Work Text:
“I told you not to come here.”
“But I had to. Just because you don’t find my reasoning reason enough, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do it.”
Finally turning towards the door, Marinette flinched ever so slightly at the sight of him. “What happened to us,” she whispered, too quiet to hear, “and what will become of us now?”
He sighed. He never should’ve done it. He just wanted revenge. How was he to know a decision he made as a child would snowball into this? “Mari we can stil—“
“NO! We can’t just push this under the rug Bruce. You’ve created soldiers from children and now you have to deal with the consequences.”
"Mari-"
"Not another word. Not tonight," she said with a small shake of the head. "I- I'm done. Goodnight, Bruce," she said, pushing past him to the door.
Bruce grabbed her wrist gently to stop her, immediately letting go as she whirled around with fire in her eyes.
"I never-" He sighs. "I didn't mean to make them into soldiers."
"Mean to or not, that's what they are," she hissed. A gentle breeze rushed through the lounge room and blew her fringe into her eyes. She wiped away the hair along with her pooling tears.
"What was I supposed to do? Even if I hadn't trained them, they would have gone out. They would have found a way to follow," he said, frowning at the tears.
”You should have never introduced the concept to them, Bruce!” Marinette shouted, tears still falling from her eyes, making the image that much worse. “What happens when something irreversible happens, huh? When things get to the point that blood spilled will be the only answer? Tell me, Bruce, how exactly did you expect things to turn out?”
He opened his mouth again to defend his actions, his shoulders falling from the weight of his decisions coming to light.
“They were children,” she hissed at him, seething. “They didn’t know any better… which is why you should have," she finished, glancing away. "For god’s sake Bruce. How fucking stupid can you be?"
"I am not the first person to give a child a mask," he said firmly. He hated throwing it in her face. Bringing up a long-past history; one that she tried to pretend she didn't have. But he knew that she knew, he was not the first.
“That isn’t fair,” she responded, eyes suddenly going hard, “I had no choice. Right from the beginning, it was shoved in my face, with no space to remove it. Everything I did, was for the sake of my home. Don’t try to throw your faults back in my face, Bruce, just don’t.”
The look on her face was unbearable for him. "We didn’t have a choice," she said in such a low voice that Bruce barely caught it.
He was in a trance. She was leaving and he couldn’t stop her. It was always going to be that way, and he knew it, but a part of him hoped that she stayed even after finding out the person he tried so hard to not be.
"What am I supposed to tell the boys?" he asked quietly.
“Tell them-” she paused in the foyer. “Tell them my door is always open if they to come with me. And— and tell them they deserved so much better than this,” she sobbed, running down the manor’s front step and towards the gate. She whispered her goodbyes into the wind, hoping they find the recipient, but she knew in her heart they’d be lost. “I’m so sorry.”
Bruce moved to go after her, pausing at the entrance way, not daring to take another step. Watching. His eyes never left her figure as she ran out into the night. He stood there for what felt like years as he tried to pull himself together, until a hand rested on his shoulder. He knew all too well who it was, but even Alfred couldn’t find anything to make the situation seem better. All he could offer was a sad smile. Bruce knew how bad he'd messed up and now he was left to pull everything back together again.
How would he face them after what he had done?
~~~~
The night owls of Gotham parted as she came barreling down the path; face tea-streaked and puffy. She managed to make it into her building before breaking down on the stairs.
“I’m so sor— sorry. I couldn’t, why didn’t I? I’m so sorry Jason.”
His name felt as heavy as his casket. She remembered the gravel path to the burial. She had never seen so many small graves.
What hurt her the worst, was the fact that he didn’t even get a proper funeral. She knew that it wasn’t possible to change anything now, but she still felt at fault. Marinette had believed that being with Bruce would help fix some things, and maybe even prevent others from happening, but in reality, nothing had changed.
She prayed that they would forgive her for not doing anything, but she knew that was too much to ask for. She knew she couldn't change anything now and it killed her. She broke down sobbing as the guilt swallowed her.
“Miss, please.”
The voice had startled her more than she let on.
“Can I take you home? It’s raining, and I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”
“Just shut up, Batman. Putting on a mask and changing your persona doesn’t actually change anything. I don’t have a home here anymore, and I’ll be sure to be “out of your city” before the week ends.”
“Stop, please,” Bruce said, and Marinette felt her resolve weaken as his voice cracked, “if not for me, stay for the children.”
Emptying her face of all emotion, she responded, “I was drowning right in front of you, Bruce, and you were too busy to notice,” getting ready to walk away with nothing more than a backwards glance, she continued, “and I’ll bet Dick has too, but it’s as if you didn’t care enough to see it.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but Marinette held up a hand to silence him.
"Dick has my number if he needs anything. I'll always be there for him. Goodbye Bruce."
With that, she turned her back to the man she loved but couldn't work with. There was some things she wouldn't- couldn't- compromise on, lines she wouldn't cross, so with a heavy heart, she steeled her nerves before marching up the stairs, each footfall a building crescendo to the finality of her decision.
For the boys, she told herself, for the boys.
~~~~
Marinette took a deep breath as she folded the last of her clothes, laying it in her suitcase before pulling it shut and letting out a frustrated grunt when is stubbornly refused to shut. She frowned as she sat on top of it, using the additional weight she provided to smoosh the two sides close enough to zip.
She let out a small, shaky breath as she looked around the now empty room.
~~~~
Somber at the thought of another child’s innocence ruined, Marinette slumped over, tears running down her face, sorry that once again, there was nothing she could do to prevent it.
"Goddammit" she muttered, smacking the wall next to her. "Not again. Please. Not another."
Finally calming down, she carefully picked herself up and walked to her bedroom. Before giving herself a chance to second guess things, she quickly dialed a number that she never thought would be needed.
That one rainy night from what seemed like long again, Bruce- Batman- had left behind his number, and while Marinette wanted to tear it up out of spite, she didn’t.
When the phone reached the third ring, she wouldn’t deny hoping ever so slightly that he would just not pick of the phone. Right when she was about to hang up and try again later, he answered.
Taking a deep breath, she cut off whatever greeting the man on the other end was giving, “Hello Bruce, I believe we need to talk.”
There was a stunned silence on the other end for a moment. "Mari? Mari I've-"
"What's this I hear about a new Robin, Bruce?" she asked, cutting him off, voice icy.
Marinette could practically feel the way he tensed.
“Look, it was different this time. Tim- the newest one- just wouldn’t stop. The best thing I could do was allow him to be Robin, I’m sorry.”
“Are you-” she inhaled seeping through her nose, the silence killed him on the other side of the call. “Are you trying to replace Jason?” her voice cracked, wordless tears threatened to spill once more.
There was a sharp inhale on the other side of the line, and Marinette could hear Bruce breaking as he said, "Of course not. I couldn't- I would never. I can't even imagine- "
Marinette didn't wait for him to give her a proper answer. "The last person with the mantle of Robin died, Bruce. Jason was 15. He was a child. A wonderful child, who is now dead. And now there's another boy running around as Robin. How is he any safer than the others?"
"He will be safe. I promise."
"Don't. Say. That. You took Dick and Jason in and took their safety upon your shoulders and look at where they are."
"What did you want me to do?"
"Not drag another child into the field."
"He insisted."
"Then you should have kindly pushed him far away. Batman existed without a Robin before, and he can do so again without endangering the lives of children."
“I’m sorry Marinette, I’m sorry, but that’s just not how things are now.”
"Fuck you, Bruce."
With an audible click, Marinette ended the call, sorry that she ever made it in the first place.
Her knuckles turned white as she clenched the windowsill. ’I have to do something.’
Her eyes lit up with an idea. She would save them. She had to. Looking towards the disguised tailoring kit, she pulled out something that would save those children. They had saved children before.
“Hello Grand Guardian.”
“Hello Wayzz.”
Yes, she’d help give them a miracle.
They would be strong. They would be safe.
They would be miraculous.