Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A black ribbon descended from the sky. He could barely see it within the tent’s darkness. The violin screamed its first high note as a woman dressed in red and black appeared upon the aerial silk. Climbing to the top, she twirled around the fabric causing it to wrap around her waist, she spun the excess creating a tornado-like effect. With only one hand holding her up, she stayed perfectly horizontal, before splitting the ribbon and spinning some more.

The crowd watched in awe as she released her grip. With the ribbon tied around her torso and across her legs, it was stable enough to separate her limbs in a wide stretch. She held that position before once again following the music. She flipped again, her arms bursting free from the silk ropes at the bang of the drums. Tumbling down she unravelled herself before pulling her legs over her head and binding herself once more as she righted herself after the flip.

Her arms reached up while her legs pointed downwards, intending to become perfectly vertical with the ribbon. Turning to her left she faced the floor, her body becoming a /\ shape. Dick heard Stephanie gasp as the woman let go, she rapidly spun, only being held up by her feet. The dancer grasped at the silk below her, moving her arms in a circular motion to increase her spin, before throwing her hands off and to the sides.

She began to climb up as the music once again built to its climax. She kicked her legs and used the momentum to do the splits and flick a leg over her head and around the silk, pulling the fabric across her back. She continued to envelope herself within the translucent black material.

One more wrap of her leg, she brought her free arm up then threw them down. From his position in the crowd, it looked as though she was cartwheeling through the air; the ribbon’s tail creating a circle around her. She grabbed her leg and was able to stop, still a good few metres from the ground.

Moving her hips she made the fabric swing, slowly unwinding the ties that bound her body. Pulling herself up before finally dropping to the ground, she landed there on her back; her right arm up, as if still seeking the embrace of the threads. The ribbon was slowly pulled back up until only a couple of metres showed.

Her arm lowered and was placed over her eyes, or where her eyes should be. Dick sat forward in his seat, her mask was a matte black with two white splotches steaming from the ‘eyes’.

Her legs shot up, quickly V-ing them she rolled to her right. Her stomach was now on the floor, the forearm that once covered her ‘eyes’ was now flat against the floor pushing her torso up, allowing her other arm to meet her lifted legs. It seems she wasn’t just an aerial dancer but a contortionist as well.

Another turn and she pushed against the ground until she was in a backbend. Gently a leg rose, ever so slowly she transitioned into a handstand with splits. Swinging her hips back with her momentum she flew into several backflips. As she got closer and closer to the barrier, time slowed down for Dick. Her back arched and the muscles in her arm constricted. She pushed off the sandy ground, flying into the air.

She landed on one of five circular stumps that made the rink’s barrier into a pentagon. She cartwheels down the connecting beam to the stump to her left. Lifting her arms and pointing her foot, she posed for the audience. She drew her pointed left up to her right knee and brought her arms down to her chest. Dick remembered from Cass’ dance lessons her legs were in passé whilst her arms were in first position. She began the motion of a pirouette.

He was so entranced by her. He didn’t recognise what was happening until too late. The railing shook as the performer upon it. She was crouched and held on with her right arm, with her left she reached out to him. Her index finger was barely touching his chin but he still had allowed her to tilt his head up to face hers. He stared at her with wide eyes, taking in all the little details that he couldn’t before due to their distance.

Her mask stopped at the bottom of her nose and her mouth was covered by a translucent mesh connected to two bug pinchers. Her ‘antenna’ were two shoulder-length ribbons that tickled his face as she leaned over him. The eye slits showed her true eyes, surrounded by black eyeshadow her blue irises shone like stars. It was slightly unnerving to him. Her glistening blue eyes were hidden amongst the expanse of her black bug mask. She was humanely inhuman, the definition of anthropomorphic.

Her voice was barely above a whisper, “I heard you were strong.” He slowly nodded, she guided him to stand up and brought him into the ring. He could hear the crowd cheering, he could feel his family staring holes into his back. There were a few wolf whistles, they flustered him although it damped his mood slightly; HE would have whistled too if he was with them.

He picked her up to help her over the barrier. The music morphed into what was believed as a waltz or tango tune; whatever it was he had heard it before at one of Bruce’s galas. The music flowed through their still connected bodies.

She guided both their arms up, and suddenly it was only them there. Slowly lowering their hands, following the soft entrance of the music, they entered into a dance support hold. He steps forward and she steps back, it seemed as though he was the leader but truthfully she was. He was the eldest of his family, the support to the castle made of sand, the glue that held them all together. He was a very strong glue.

Snapping back, the crowd was cheering them on as they danced around. He clutched one of her hands tightly and flung her out to the side. Although she was prepared she quickly caught herself and spun back into his embrace. He dipped her, she booped his nose with a chuckle; his nose scrunched at the poke.

“I need you to throw me.”

“What?” He swiftly replied, his voice was a whisper against the crowd roar. They undipped and he spun her again.

“Throw me towards the ribbon and then get out of the rink. It’ll be dang—“ the crowd and the muffling of her mask made it impossible for him to hear her.

He had a matter of seconds before he must take action.

His eyes flicked up. The tent’s scaffolding sat roughly at forty metres, the aerial silk hung just below it, surrounded by the tent’s hanging curtains.

He sidestepped around her as she began her revolution back into his arms again. He was now out of the middle and closer to the barrier, a better and safer angle for the throw.

Her arm that had reached away from him at the apex of her spin was now clutched to her chest. She steeled three times on the sandy floor before Dick picked her up in his arms.

Four

Now that she was secure, she nodded. At that signal, he began to spin himself, following her previous momentum.

Three

He shifted his grasp higher before bowing lowly, his feet shifting, knees bent.

Two

He was rounding the bend, locking eyes on the target. He prayed for a miracle that this precious cargo met their destination.

One

He let go.

She spun through the air in a similar fashion to that of a javelin. His arms were still outreached, it had been mere seconds since she left but the distance between them was so grand already. He guessed this one event was a microcosm for his whole relationship with her. As soon as he let her go, she would fly far beyond his reach.

He jumped out of the rink, his eyes diverting from her as she barreled towards the roles made of silk. He had just sat down in his seat when he heard it.

Screams. Multiple screams from men, women and children alike. He turned to his right and saw Barbara’s terrified face looking towards the sky. Is the tent on fire? A villain causing havoc? Joker? Penguin? Selina?

His heart stopped as he saw it. It was the worst thing he could’ve ever possibly imagined, no, in his mind, it’s so bad that the possibility of it happening was blocked out.

Even as she fell he couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t angelic. An Icarus with black silk wings. The spotlights followed her plummeting form, the glitter and sequins on her leotard sparkled, and time for Dick slowed to a halt.

Even though he had just sat, he rose once more, preparing to run to her but his legs were frozen in place. He saw his parents in her place, his father hugging his mother tightly, hoping that his dead body would soften her fall. But he was no longer seven and this wasn’t his parents, but it was his girlfriend.

Her arm reached up just like his mothers did, the moment she realised she was falling. Marinette didn’t scream or panic, she looked calm, serene, relaxed as she fell to her death. There was nothing that could save her, he couldn’t reach her in time. He isn’t fast enough to save her. He isn’t strong enough to withstand this blow.

Another performer dressed in darkness and fur descended from above, hanging upside down on a trapeze. His outstretched arms grabbed hers, pulling her up in the air once more. The screams turned to gasps as she was saved mere seconds before catastrophe, her silken cloth fluttered down to the sandy ground.

Dick still couldn’t move. He stared blankly at the cloth before looking up at the aerial performers with torpefied eyes. He heard people in the rows behind him shout at him to sit down or move. Babs tugged at his arm and cocked her chin in Bruce’s direction. He turned to see Bruce staring at him from behind his cup, his eyes burning holes in his skull.

Glancing one last time to ensure Marinette’s safety he saw her get flung once more. She flipped through the air and landed in the arms of another aerialist; she was dressed in black and yellow but had two small translucent baby blue caps coming from her back. A bug, a bee and a cat… what’s next?

A snake banging drums and a dragon flipping through fire apparently. More and more anamorphic performers appeared, each with a unique leotard and mask. A pig, leopard and bull joined the snake with musical items. The vixen created illusions for the audiences, the peacock danced with a flurry of feathered ribbons, the turtle rolled around the rink on a giant wheel; bending his body around the bars.

The audience was entranced, his family was mystified, Dick was numb. His head hung in his hands and his back was hunched over his seat. Tremors rocked his body but he was in public, he couldn’t show it.

But the show must go on.

At each high note or bang a new performer appeared, the crowd roared in excitement. Some performers came into the audience like Marinette had to get participants for some acts. Damian was chosen at one point to ride an elephant around the rink with an actor dressed as a bunny doing a one-handed headstand splits.

The show drew to a close, but it wasn’t soon enough for Dick. He sat there in silent suffering, both his head and heart pounded, blood rushed through his ears.

Ladybug and the Bumblebee laced their silk ribbons and together they made a woven spiderweb. Slowly each performance ended, the actors bowed before climbing upon the ‘web’, the snake was left alone on the floor. Each bang of his large drum brought the webbing higher. The two insect females disappeared into the ceiling curtains, followed by the cat, pig and mouse.

The snake paused and placed down his mallets. Walking around to the front of his drum he bowed deeply to the audience. From where he stood he jumped into a backflip, his arms in front and behind his abdomen keeping his back straight.

He landed on the drum with a thud. ‘How could it withstand a grown adult male’s weight?’ Dick wondered as he peeked through his fingers. The snake crouched mid-air, gathering his momentum to make one final leap to join his comrades. His arms stretched to the sky, he left his echoing bang behind him.

The bull and bunny caught the viper, the ram climbed back down to make sure they were all secure before the four of them followed the rest into the shadows of the ceiling. The crowd cheered as the music faded off into a whisper. Whispers about pounding hearts full of trepidation during the first performance then became rants of wonder at each individualised act that appeared after.

Dick found her again in the smaller white tent out the back of the festival. Animals were all stored in their respective pens here, some of the anthropomorphic performers have been kicked out to this tent before; there was a certain rooster that was cooing too loudly at some hens, that was the day Dick realised that the bunny was definitely stronger than she seemed.

She was wiping down the trunk of the elephant, the blue paint slowly was washed off their wrinkled grey body. It whistled at the girl, she giggled as her blackish-blue hair tickled her face.

She heard his approach, his footsteps crunched on the fallen leaves. He never bothered to be sneaky when it was her, she’d somehow heard him anyways. His arms wrapped around her middle and buried his head in between his shoulder blades. She sighed and relaxed into his arms, her back meeting his warm chest.

“Hey, Dickie.” She softly spoke, a repose atmosphere washed over them. She continued the elephant's washing, although it was much slower. His head raised when she spoke, “This is Hathi. I remember you told me about that Elephant you had when you were younger; Zitka was their name right?”

Dick silently nodded, the bridge of his nose bumped against her ear, his breath prickled the skin on her neck. Mari guided his hand from her waist and to Hathi’s trunk, the grey beast whistled happily again on contact.

“Don’t…” Marinette paused, ‘don’t what?’ They stood there for minutes, enjoying each other in the night's sombre silence. She turned in his arms to face him, they tightened around he and he rested his head on her shoulder. What was on his mind?

“Dick?”

“Please don’t ever—” He cut himself off as he inhaled a much-needed breath. His head felt like the drum when the viper jumped on it and his heart felt like it’s cage was too small.

He flinched as Mari began to stroke his hair. She shushed him but allowed him time to speak her piece. “Please stay with me tonight.”

She hesitated with her answer for a second, is it a good idea for her to enter into the lion’s den? She glanced down at the hunched body of her partner, she bore the majority of his weight, one step back and he’d topple over. What kind of a lousy girlfriend would she be if she left him in this state? His family would dislike her more than they already do.

“Ok, Dickie.”

Chapter Text

The wine spiralled into a whirlpool and she twirls the glass, fidgeting to get rid of her awkwardness. She stood near one of the pillars in the house’s courtyard, observing the night’s activities. The party, formally dubbed ‘The Wayne’s Gift Gala’, was an open invitation to the whole of Gotham; even the villains, so long as they cause no mayhem.

“Be my date to Damian’s Gifting tomorrow night. I want to show you off to everyone.” He placed a kiss on the back of her hand before rising and pulling her in by the waist. Her palms were flat against his chest, she looked into his dazzling blue eyes. Black locks of hair hung over her, like willow tree branches, guarding in wait of an answer.

Why had she agreed? Why had he asked only for him to now show up? She even had been on time, when her friends saw her leaving early they thought the Wayne Shapeshifter was playing another of her pranks.

The party was in full swing by the time he arrived. Babs, Bruce and Tim were networking. Alfred was flitting around making sure the guests were all comfortable. Cass, Stephanie and Damian were nowhere in sight, but then again, the same went for him. Wait, was that Duke?

He had gotten caught with finishing the last of his chores and before he knew it, the sun was straddling the horizon. He brushed off his white button-up before entering the pavilion. He stood on his tiptoes in search of her and paused when he finally found her.

He breathlessly gapped in her direction. Her short blue hair was down in a braid that hung over her shoulder, pearl hair accessories twinkled like stars in the night. He saw just how perfectly her bangs framed her sparkling blue eyes as she found him amongst the crowd, her glossy red lips were pulled into a wide grin.

She swatted his chest as he got closer, lips pouted and eyes glaring. “You’re late,” she huffed, arms crossed. He was distracted by the glittering black dress that fitted her perfectly. Lace hugged her neck but left her covalent and back open to the night’s elements. There was no doubt that she had made this. She makes all of her outfits and all of the circus performers’ costumes.

Her face scrunched as she waved her hand in front of his gaze, scoffing at him. He placed a kiss on her forehead, his thumb brushing her cheekbones as he cradled her face. “I apologise mon amour.” They stood there in silence, the party raged on around them. He pulled away but moved one arm to her waist. He jerked his head towards the dance floor, “To show my sincerity how about a dance? A little bug told me once that I was good at the Tango.”

She struggled to keep up her facade, but in the end, lost and her pout turned into a smirk. She rolled her eyes, “That bug was probably high on insecticide, they didn’t know what they were talking about.”

“Huh? Oh reaaaally now?” They stepped to the flow of the tune, Dick tugged her closer whenever possible. “Guess I’ll just have to prove it to you then.”

Dancing was something they always went back to. Music and rhythm were like the body and blood of their relationship; without it, there isn’t as much life. There were highs and lows, dips and flips, but they always managed to find a way to step in time.

After his apology, they were grabbed by Steph and forced into greeting the guests.

“Bienvenue monsieur!”

“Bonjour!”

“Welcome, Mrs Blanca.”

“Ah! Gotham’s Wonder Boy Dick Grayson! It’s good to see you, sweetie,” she patted his cheek after pulling away from their hug. Her grey eyes wandered over to Marinette, “my, my, what do we have here? You are his cœur, no?”

Marinette’s feet shuffled and she shyly looked down, cheeks reddening. Her heart strained in her chest, it jumped a beat when Dick’s arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“Yes, she is.” He gazed down at her lovingly, “This is my girlfriend Marinette Dupain-Cheng, she most certainly is my cœur.”

“Bah!” Dick’s head snapped to the elderly lady, not expecting that reaction. She got close to him, a scraggly finger pointed in his face, “Now you listen here, no more of that girlfriend nonsense—” The young couple blinked at her. “You make this beautiful lady your épouse! It’s about time we’ve had a Wayne Wedding!” The lady exclaimed, the surrounding crowd acknowledged her and nodded along, agreeing with her sentiment.

Dick scratched at the back of his neck, no clue what to say now. He watched as Marinette explained to Mrs Blanca that they both were still young and had plenty of years to settle down, but that further prolonged a rant about wanting a new generation of Wayne’s running through the streets.

Both of their faces now bright red, shooed her inside before she could say anything else. She muttered something about ‘Bruce and Selina’ as Manoir opened their doors in a wide welcome.

‘Children? Marriage?’ He didn’t think they were ready for that yet, but as he looked down at Mari, hiding behind her hands. He realised they had never discussed the future, did they even want the same things? His heart wrenched at the thought of them ending their relationship at a crossroads, he’d rather compromise than give her up.

Rocks from the gravel paths scattered as Babs wheeled over to them. “Dick hurry up!”

He looked at his copper-haired sister then back at Marinette. She shooed him, “Go go!” She pushed him when he was reluctant to move away. “I’ll be near the curtain,” she whispered before giving him one last shove as a send-off. As soon as he stepped onto Manoir’s threshold he was whisked away by rolling tiles.

Barbara struggled to turn on the path; gravel really didn’t work well with wheelchairs. Dick had told her once, he planned to spend any free time he had working on creating more accessible pathways and places for his sister. Some days Dick came to her exhausted and boneless but still woke up early to place even just one brick down.

Her hands were clutched before her, taking a deep breath. “Barbara? Would you like some he—“

“NO!” She immediately replied, cutting off the bluenette. Barbara noticed the girl’s wide-eyed shock and quickly spoke again. “I’m fine! I can do it myself.” She huffed, her wheels finally unstuck from the divot in the path.

Everyone who was coming had arrived now and was mingling while the Wayne’s did final preparations.

“I’m not a child Grayson, I’m able to walk down the path alone.”

Dick sighed, rubbing at his scrunched eyebrows. “Ok, I understand Damian. I just thought you’d like to be supported like the rest of us. I’ll be by the curtain if you need me.”

“I don’t need you there.”

Cass stepped in front of his green-eyed gaze. “It’s a tradition.” She signed, “Dick had to walk alone and didn’t want that for anyone else.”

Damian popped a balloon as he stamped his foot and began to fume, “I’m not just ‘anyone else’, I’m the blood son! You can’t keep telling me what to do!” He shot glare around the room, his siblings just rolled their eyes at his antics.

He felt a hand rest upon his shoulder, he grabbed the wrist, his nails digging into the skin. Dick yelped in pain, “Damian! Ow! It’s only a suggestion, you don’t have to follow the tradition. We’re just saying it’s an option.”

Dick pried the youngest’s claws from his wrist, and heard him muttering to himself, ‘sounded more like coercion to me.’

“Heard that!”

Damian swivelled to face Tim, “Of course, you did, you Dumbo. You truly are an elephant aren’t you?”

“Damian! There’s no need for that.” Dick scolded. Although Tim heard everything, there were things he definitely didn’t want to hear. The ‘Dumbo’ incident was still a sore spot for him and he’s been self-conscious of his outfit choices since then. Having supersonic hearing with a grey suit patterned with sound waves wasn’t something Tim fondly remembered.

“Come on kid,” Damian scowled at Duke, who was leaning against the dining room doorway. “It’s your day to become a ‘Wayne Miracle’!” He waved his hand in mockery, then his face hardened and in a serious tone said, “The sooner we start, the sooner it’s over. I don’t know about you but I wanna get out of here ASAP.”

Dick saw how Damian scrunched his shoulders even so slightly. Although he was prideful, Damian did have instances where he felt like a burden. “Duke,” Dick warned, not appreciating the teen’s choice of words and tone.

“Yeah, yeah, ok Dick. ‘We’re the Wayne’s. We gotta be seen as strong and put together!’ We get it, we play the part, it ends, I go back to my apartment and live my life until I’m dragged back here.” He paused, rubbing his hands together, “Well?” He looked around the room at his younger siblings, “Let’s go.”

He strutted out of the room, making his way to his position on the upper floor, preparing to create a spotlight.

The rest of the siblings slowly trailed out of the room, taking their position at either the top or base of the stairs. Dick stood by the curtain, he nodded at Alfred and the curtain was pulled, revealing the youngest Wayne.

Damian blinked, blinded by the light-bearing down on him. His arm rose to shield his eyes and he was finally able to see the shadows of the crowd in front of him. He froze, Manoir rippled their tiles, trying to make the boy step forward.

He couldn’t move. They told him to walk, that all he needed to do was walk the aisle, climb the stairs, swear his intentions, get his door and gift. He always wondered what it would be, he looked down at his sweaty palms. Maybe it would have something to do with swords? He trained with them since he was young, no, childhood doesn’t factor into gift type. If it did Dick should’ve been able to fly or become super flexible.

‘Whatever it may be I’m sure Father will be proud.’ He still hesitated, ‘He would be proud, right?’

His heart clenched in anxiety. Alfred has said to him that “This was his time.” But was having a gift a pre-requisites to gaining Father’s favour?

“Damian?” Someone whispered, Damian snapped his head towards the source. Dick was there, standing by the curtains, just like he said he would be.

“Richard…”

The boy's eyes were glossy, like a moss after the morning dew.

“Richard,” he whispered, and Dick was immediately alerted by the use of his first name. “Please,” he hissed.

Dick stepped forward and placed himself by Damian’s side, a warm hand placed on his brother’s back. Damian was still staring at him with an emotion that Dick could only describe as helplessness and vulnerability.

“Are you good to go?” Damian nodded and Dick rubbed his back. “Come on, let’s get you to your door.”

They walked down the candle lit path. Hundreds of eyes followed them, just like all the other times. Alfred didn’t have a ceremony and Bruce didn’t get a gift so the first ceremony was grand to say the least.

“I’ll be alright Alfred!” He remembered his younger self reassuring the elderly butler. “I know you’ll be busy but Bruce will be waiting for me at the end right?”

Even as a child Dick knew how grimy the crowd’s gaze was. He was a tool to be used as soon as he was gifted his miracle. He was alone and wanted to make sure none of his found family would be.

Barbara’s gifting was only a few months after his. He smiled down at Damian who was pointingly staring forward. Damian’s reaction was similar to Babs’.

“Dickkkkkk… I’m not a baby! You had your turn to walk.” The young boy tried to explain to her his reasons but it fell on deaf ears. But when the curtain rose she called for him with her hand held out, “I need you.” She whispered and although Bruce disapproved of her showing weakness in front of the crowd, he was proud of Dick for stepping in and walking her down the aisle. The rainbow she accidentally made was the perfect way to showcase her gift to the world.

He remembered how Cass, Duke and Steph almost pulled him to be next to them when their turns came. He had never seen Cass’ smile so brightly as she held his hand. He felt solemn as he remembered Jason’s reaction.

“Who am I to break tradition? I won’t say no when I know it’s important to you Dickie.” They walked together side by side, Jason standing strong under their gaze.

They stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at Bruce, his face lit with the candle’s blaze. For the first time in a while, Dick saw Bruce smile. It was small and Dick couldn’t tell if it was really or a performance.

“Nearly thirty years ago, in our darkest moment, this candle blessed us with a miracle.” He looked down at his sons, who stood waiting to climb the stairs, ”And the greatest honor of our family has been to use our blessings to serve the Gotham community. Tonight, we come together once more as another steps into the light to make us proud.

“Damian, please come forward.” He climbed the stairs while Dick stayed by the bottom rails. He reached the top and stood tall before his father; chest out, shoulders back. Bruce held the candle out to his youngest, who placed his hands around the base. “Will you use your gift to honour our miracle? Will you serve this community and strengthen our home?”

Dick remembered the feeling that Damian was now experiencing, like ice water rushing over him. It made him feel so strong and fearless, like he could do anything. He watched as Damian nodded and Bruce stepped aside so he could access his door.

This time he showed no hesitation as he reached for the handle. A light as bright as Duke's high beams came from the door as it inscribed his name along with his picture. There were two animals in the picture; his golden snake necklace and a large Great Dane.

Damian’s eyebrows creased in confusion and he turned around to ask his father what this meant. But he found a black and white cat. It had a small black patch of fur on his chest that made it look like it was wearing a bow tie.

‘𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗, 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝙰𝚕𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚍.’

Damian’s confusion only increased as he heard a man’s voice ringing in his ears. He felt everyone’s scrutiny on him. Cain and Thomas watched him from behind where his father stood at the entry of the stairs.

“Hello?”

“Damian?” Bruce prodded as the seconds stretched.

‘𝙰𝚑 𝚜𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝙳𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚊𝚗. 𝙶𝚘 𝚘𝚗, 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚝.’

“You want to what?”

“Damian, who are you talking to?”

“Alfred the Cat. He wants me to open my door so he can nap.”

Bruce paused for a moment his lips pursed before they curled into a face splitting grin. “We have a new gift!”

The crowd cheered and the remaining family ran up the stairs to congratulate their youngest brother (except Barbara, Manoir made the stairs into an escalator for her). Dick picked up Damian and swung him around on his shoulders, everyone chuckled at the young demon’s protests.

And when he finally opened his door a landscape materialised before them. The entrance was painted a mixture of blacks and greens before the walls slowly morphed into ivy and bushes. The walls held multiple swords and images of cherished memories Damian had during his stay in Manoir. But the entrance was nothing compared to the main room. It looked to be a rocky hillside with a river surrounding it. At the top of the mound was a large hollowed out tree that had windows and hammocks; a treehouse.

The sound of thundering footsteps came closer and Damian was knocked off his feet. The Great Dane peppered the boy’s face with licks, in between each he yelled ‘𝙏𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙨! 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙏𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙨!’ until Damian was soaked in slobber.

“Titus heel!”

A loud roar halted the celebration in its tracks. The ground shook and then a dark maroon coloured figure appeared from behind the tree. The family shielded themselves behind the door, the gargantuan figure surely couldn’t fit through it, Damian stayed there in awe.

As it approached Damian saw it’s leather bat wings and four sharp talons on each foot. It landed before Damian and it looked like it should’ve been a sentry guarding a temple rather than a child’s bedroom.

Breathlessly Damian spoke whilst gazing at the creature with big eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like you. What are you?”

‘𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝕯𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓 𝕭𝖆𝖙, 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝕲𝖔𝖑𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖍.’

Damian bowed before Goliath, showing his deepest respect for the powerful beast that will now watch over him.

‘𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖊. 𝕷𝖊𝖙’𝖘 𝖋𝖑y.’

And with that they took off exploring the room’s sky. Bruce for once was speechless, he turned to face the prying eyes of the crowd behind him and shrugged. The party continued and was more lively than before.

Eventually Marinette found her way back to Dick’s side, they barely got to say their greetings before Bruce called the family in for a group picture.

Snap went the camera.

Crack went the room.

Goliath screeched as his new master fell into the crack, he swooped down and grabbed the boy with his claws. Dick grabbed Babs from her chair and rushed her out to the courtyard. The door became a bottleneck for partygoers, frantic screams were heard as they tried to escape. The room crumbled and the door slammed shut. The glowing light dimming until it died out.

And the whispers began. Rumours, lies and myths spread like a wildfire. The most popular was that, indeed, ‘Jason had been right.’

“We should have listened.”

“This house is cursed with hexes, not miracles.”

“Was this all a trap?”

The Wayne’s ushered everyone out, checking their guest list to make sure everyone was accounted for. Dick only got more antsy the more time he went without seeing Mari. She had been with him and he left her to save Babs from certain destruction.

The guests still stood outside, like vultures watching over a dying body, waiting for more gossip to arise. Bruce’s mask fell, revealing a pure rage, “We are the Wayne’s! Our miracle is fine, the magic is fine. We are fine!” He tugged the two doors closed with a resounding bang.

“Father?” Damian’s voice sounded small and unsure. “Did I do something wrong?”

Bruce’s fists clenched. His sharp gaze fell on Damian and the boy wished he never spoke. “I’ll fix this.” He said through gritted teeth, “Everyone to your rooms now. Damian stay in the nursery.”

He began to walk off, not even noticing that two people were missing; Stephanie and Marinette.

Just as the Wayne patriarch reached the stairs a barreling form came running into the open space, bumping into Bruce before they fell.

Dick sighed in relief as he ran over, Marinette had been found. Her knees were now grazed and bloody from the fall and she had a few new bruises but seemed mostly alright.

She froze as she realised what she had done. Apologies to Bruce tumbled out of her mouth but he just scoffed and walked away. Dick reassured her, stroking her messy hair. She babbled about to him how she got out of the room and Manoir took her down the kitchen stairs and covered her with the railing.

“Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”

Alfred made her a chocolate crêpe before retiring for the night, “All this excitement is bad for my blood pressure.”

Alfred’s cooking could bring the dead back alive (trust me he’s had to do it on the boys a few times) so a few scrapes were nothing. Dick still bandaged her up anyways.

“Tonight was…” Dick felt the same way, wordless, numb to his environment. He placed his hands on either side of where she sat on the countertop, carefully moving his body so that it doesn’t bump her injuries.

“Mari I was thinking. Tonight made me realise we’ve never discussed the future…” Marinette's face burned a blazing crimson, “What do you see in your future?” He paused, his head down not looking at his lover. “Did you ant to be married sometime in the near future?”

Her chest rose with a sharp inhale of breath, “I uh—“

A noise came from the hallway that cut their late-night conversation short. Marinette and Dick looked at each other, wariness set in. Truthfully Mari was unwelcomely welcomed, Bruce didn’t want her here but the rest of the family did, so he stewed in silence. Dick knew his family well enough to know how they’d react to him having a secret moment with his Marinette. Another bang resounded along with a clang and a groan. He watched as Marinette placed down her crêpe and gently slipped off the countertop. He took her hand in his, tiptoeing to the doorway he peeked out to look at the hall.

The hall was narrow, decorated with cubbyholes for their shoes and coat racks. Although thin, there was still plenty of room for two people to brush by each other while walking. This fact made the scene more confusing since he saw Steph crouched on the floor, one hand holding her knee, the other clutching the shelf for support. Her quiet curses were now louder that he was in the same room as her.

“Fucking shit, I’m more than.”

Marinette peeked over his shoulder and gasped. Steph was a mess. Her hair was messy, her purple dress was wet and torn, her blouse was stained with mud and unbuttoned. She was completely different from the preppy girl the bluenette saw early at the gift ceremony. Had she been caught by Manoir too? It didn’t make sense why she was so dirty though.

Dick walked over and helped his sister stand up on her shaky legs. He heard her mumble “I’m more than—“

“What’s that Steph?” Dick asked, his eyebrow quirking in confusion. Mari clutched the door frame, her knuckles turning white as she squirted her eyes shut and looked away; she shouldn’t be here. “Have you been drinking?”

“No. I’m more than—“

Dick looked back at Mari, he saw she was biting her lip, looking uncomfortable. Looking back at his youngest sister, he saw her cheeks covered with streaks of mascara and tears. Her lips trembled as she gasped for a breath, finally looking him in the eyes. “He—” She sobbed before cutting herself off a third time.

Marinette decided although she shouldn’t get involved, it was worse to ignore this situation. “He?” She stepped in Steph’s line of sight, the blonde flinched. “Steph, who's he? What did he do?”

“H-he said,” she glared at the floor taking a step back. “Body, let me see your body. Take off all your makeup and your clothes.” She tugged at the collar of her shirt, clenching her necktie in her fist. Her nails dragged along her throat leaving trails of red, “Trust me, why don’t you just trust me? You’re the only beauty, show me more.”

Her ballad resonates down the hall and into Manoir’s open courtyard. Her hands slid up her face to cover her ears. She pushed past the couple as she ran into the courtyard, moonlight washing over her skin. “You’re not a dime a dozen.” She angled her arms up, pointing her back leg and arching her back. “Oh, your skin is golden, let me show the whole damn world.”

Dick might’ve laughed if he wasn’t so worried. Someone had said these things to his sister, and now, her golden skin was ghostly.

“You’re one in a billion. The only thing you’re missin’,” Dick watched in horror as Steph’s hand slowly covered her lips. “Is some tape over that mouth.”

Dick looked over at Mari in alarm, she just had a similar realisation. Her hands were clasped in front of her, her small frame tense, intently watching the scene before them.

Steph flinched once again as a hand came in contact with her shoulder. Her blonde hair whipped around as she snapped her head towards the intruder; it was Dick. “Come on let’s get you to bed.” He guided her up the stairs but ended up carrying her as she drunkenly stumbled a few too many times.

They reach her room, her door glowing brighter at the presence of its owner. Mari never was allowed close enough to the Wayne clan’s rooms (besides Dick’s which was the first from the stairs) to notice every detail in their doors. It seemed that each had a symbol; Dicks had a mountain whilst Steph had masks. It was off-putting that instead of her face there was only the creepy smile of a mask.

Dick opened the door with his hip and stepped inside. He maneuvered around the shifting room and placed Steph on her bed. But when he tried to cover her with the sheets she kicked them off and stood up. “Body, I’m more than my body. You can pack your things up, buh-bye just go!”

Even though Dick protested Steph jumped down from the bed. A couch moved between the two of them, preventing him from closing the distance. “Body, I’m more than my body.” A mirror appeared in front of her bloodshot eye. “Don't owe you a thing. No, not at all.”

She clutched the mirror's polished wooden frame and shifted. She tilted her ‘new’ body to the right, poking her head out to look at the adults. They saw a scruff teenaged boy with a scraggly beard before she shifted back. “I'm not a toy to play with,” she swapped to the right. “Not just a sight to see and,” Steph stood straight up, shifted again and touched the reflection; it turned to glass. “My mind is worth its weight in gold. I'm not a dime a dozen. I know I'm worth just more than you will ever know.”

She was Bruce.

The floor she stood upon rose and shifted to become diagonal, forcing her back onto her bed. She landed on her back, the shock of the sudden movement forced her to unshift. She laid there for a moment, looking up at the eggplant colour canopy above her: her chest heaved and she clutched at her sheets. Mirrors surrounded the edge of the bed, encompassing her in her reflection. She knelt, hands clutching at her chest, “Touch me, you just wanna feel me. You just wanna share me. You don't care at all.” Her voice broke into a choked sob. Her hands grabbed at her sleeves, tugging them off her skin. Tears streamed down her face once more, blackened as they mixed with her mascara. “Trust you, why don't I just trust you? You just wanna use me, now I know.”

She hugged the mahogany frame, she locked eyes with her reflection but she soon shied away. Her eyes closed and she didn’t even notice the mirrors turn to the glass again; her mannequins were now standing behind each pane. Waiting there like weeping angels but she was none the wiser. “Body, I’m more than my body. You will never get me, buh-bye just go!”

“I’m more than, I’m more than, I’m more than my body!” She belted to no one in particular, or maybe, she was trying to get through to the one person who never listened to her at all; herself. “I’m more than, I’m more than, I’m more than my body.”

Her voice trailed off, her eyes opened. Her chest rose as she took in a deep breath, “I’m more than,” she shouted, she began shifting into multiple different people. Margret who she helped get her cat out of the tree by shifting into her tallest brother Dick. Peter from the grocery store who she helped catch a thief. When she pretended to be a goon for the police officers to get insider information. Ann from school, Oliver, Coby, Alfred, Danielle, Andy, Tim, Bruce— “I’m more than, I’m more than my body!” Her glass prison shattered into millions of specs of glitter, it swirled around her. The mannequins stepped towards her, toddling on their stiff legs. They grabbed at her arms, some with their sculpted hands, others with articulated fingers, a few with the nubs of their wrists. She shifted back into the mess that was her actual body within their hold. She glared towards the wall-length mirror in front of her, stamping her foot. “I’m more than, I’m more than, I’m more than my body.” Her voice trailed off until it was a quiet hiss of a note. The glitter glass settled, creating a dazzling view of sparkling stars that coated all of her furniture.

Steph looked towards her brother and Marinette. They released a breath they both didn’t know they were holding. She stepped off her bed but her leg crumbled beneath her. She collapsed in a pile on the floor, she felt numb but could feel the pressure of their hands on her. She saw them trying to talk to her through her dazed eyes, their voices reached her ear but she couldn’t process them.

“I’m more than.” They helped her stand up. They unbuckled her shoes and undressed her before Mari helped her into a nightgown. She could vaguely hear Marinette telling her that she’d take her clothes, fix the tears and wash out the stains then return them in the morning. Steph nodded her eyes closing in drunken exhaustion. Her brain felt hazed and disorientated.

“Mmm. I’m more than.”

Dick brushed the hair off her face and laid her down on her plush mattress. He pressed a kiss on her forehead and covered her body with blankets, her eyes fluttered shut.

“I’m more than.” She muttered before falling into a deep slumber. Her thoughts faded into the abyss of abstraction that comes with unconsciousness. Was this another case of drunk words being sober thoughts? Was she just being dramatic, correction, melodramatic like usual? ‘Real’ her mind whispered before mellowing out. Dick cast her one last glance as he guided Marinette out of the shifting room.

They walked to Dick’s room, silent tears streaming down Mari’s face. They stepped inside and Dick hugged her to his chest. The weight of what just happened settled on his shoulders, he felt like Atlas, condemned to hold up the world, if he fails it’ll fall into anarchy. He stared daggers into the wood of his door, maybe anarchy was already upon them.

He stepped back, “Mari?” He looked down and wiped her tears with his sleeve. She clutched her upper arms in his grasp, “Hey,” he soothed. “Hey, Steph will be fine, she can take care of herself. I’m sure the guy is worse off than her.”

Marinette had known the family for years, when they first got to get her Dick introduced her and she visits every time she’s in town. He knew Mari was worried about the bruises they saw forming on Stephanie’s skin, but his sister can throw a mean right hook. Although he’ll ‘check in’ on the guy and make sure he got what he deserved.

“Just remember Mari, sometimes it's hard to be seen for more than what our gifts can do for people. It's hard to be more.”

Chapter Text

It always amazed him how sunlight still managed to stream through their magic rooms. He scooted forward and leaned in, he smooshed his lips against the bare skin of her shoulder. His grey sweatshirt was bagging on her much smaller form. His pecks moved up her neck, he leant up on his elbows, brushing away her dark locks to gain more access to her pale skin.

She rolled over onto her back, her eyes peeked through her thick lashes. “Mmm,” she mumbled, still half asleep.

Dick smiled down at her, “Good morning, my Mari.”

She shifted and stretched underneath him, groaning as her sleepy body was forced awake. She muttered her greeting as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She cupped his cheek, her thumb, tilting his head up.

“You’ve been crying.” His eyes were pink and his cheek was crusty from his tear streaks.

“I’m fine.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She sat up, moving her hand to his shoulder. He removed himself from her grasp and sat on the bedside.

“We should go down for breakfast.”

——

She waited for Dick to check in on Steph before they made their way down the stairs and outside. Without prompting he told her that Steph was ok but still hungover so she wouldn’t be down for breakfast. The day was sunny, early morning dew slowly evaporated from plants’ leaves and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. A small smile formed on Dick’s face; although last night went badly Babs wasn’t too upset.

He grabbed two plates from the table and loaded them up with croissants and scrambled eggs. A hand reached into his vision, it was Tim. Dick placed down his plates and stood up to face the teen whose face was mostly hidden by a yellow mug of coffee.

“Tim! I need to talk to you about the thing.” A dark eyebrow raised his blueish-grey eyes. Dick walked closer, Tim could hear him from anywhere but he didn’t want others to hear him. “You know the thing that happened last night? Is there anything you heard?” In a hushed whisper he drew out his last word but there still was no reply. “You know, like the time with Jason?”

“Steph!” Barbara made her way out of the doors with her old wheelchair, it squeaked everyone now and then. Dick looked around in confusion, he had yet to tell anyone about Stephanie’s condition. “Stop disguising yourself as Tim to get more coffee, you know what happened last time!”

‘Tim’ shrugged, chugging the coffee before placing the mug on the table & morphing back into Stephanie. Marinette’s handy work made her clothes look brand new and a new headscarf covered her hair and face, dreary green eyes looked at him. She shrugged, “Worth a shot.”

Manoir’s window shutter flung out and slapped the blonde’s arm, “Ow! Ok ok, Manoir! Sheesh.”

The two girls left to sit at the table, the real Tim appeared, his ears covered to muffle the wheelchair’s high pitched squeaks. He grabbed his three other yellow mugs of coffee and a plate of eggs, without looking at his brother he said, “The thing was loud enough that I couldn’t hear anything.”

Dick crossed his arms, eyes narrowing, “Tim I think we both know that’s not true.”

Tim shrugged, inhaling his first mug. He smirked and combed his fingers through his hair, “Maybe the guests were right, maybe Jason was right?”

“There were cracks everywhere! I…” the teen looked around the courtyard desperately, his chest rose and fell in a frantic rhythm. His eyes returned to his family who stood above him on the staircase.

“Do not worry! There is nothing wrong with Wayne's Manoir!

Dick sucked in a breath at the memory, Tim eyed him, his smirk somewhat faltering. “Maybe this is Jason’s curse? Or Manoir is trying to take back our powers.”

The teen grabbed his full cups and plate and wandered over to the table, “Tim!” Dick whisper yelled, his younger brother paused but didn’t turn. “Give me a straight answer for once!”

Tim looked over his shoulder, no longer smiling, “I told you before Dick, I don’t know. When the cracks appeared my powers were gone and I couldn't do anything about it.”

“Are they—”

“They’re back now, so don’t do anything stupid to jeopardise it.”

————

Dick finally sat down, the two plates were placed in front of himself and Marinette. She thanked him, blue eyes crinkled in joy as she reached to butter the pastry. The order of their seating mostly stayed the same; starting on the right side it went oldest to youngest, Bruce, of course, sitting at the table’s head.

Dick was his right-hand man… because he always sat by his right hand.

There were two missing seats. Cassandra almost always had two empty seats next to her. Even with guests joining them, rarely does she sit in Jason’s spot. And when Jason’s spot was about to be filled, she would offer her stool and guard his.

When each of them entered the family, Bruce helped them make a stool to sit on. He made sure each child engraved their name so there was no confusion. When had such a happy memory been tarnished by sadness?

A chair scraped back on the tiled flooring, Dick felt animosity in the air. The family stood to greet their patriarch. Bruce was shooting daggers into Mari’s bowed head. Confusion swelled inside him, Dick never understood why Bruce hated Marinette so much.

“Good morning,” the Wayne's head muttered to his family before sitting down. He was shocked to find Alfred the Cat laying across his chair. “Uh—“

Damian flicked his hand and Alfred the Cat jumped down and ran inside. “I asked him to warm up your seat.” His green eyes looked up at Bruce for approval but only found an uncomfortable expression. Dick looked on in dismay as the twinkle died in Damian’s eyes. Bruce cleared his throat, mumbled his thanks and sat down, the rest of the family quickly followed suit. Alfred brought a plate over for Bruce then stood by his side.

“Regarding last night's,” he paused, searching for the right word. “Events. I think it’s best if we put it behind us and move forward.”

“But father!” Damian stood up once again. Being the youngest he sat on Bruce’s left thus making him tied-closest with Dick. “My room was destroyed! How could we just ignore this?”

“Damian.” Bruce warned, “Sit down.” The boy stayed standing against his father’s command. “Sit down Damian, this doesn’t concern you.”

Damian’s hand slammed against the stable, rage burning in his eyes. “It was my room father!” He pounded his palm against his chest, “how isn’t this my problem?”

“Sit down now.” Bruce’s voice was icy and sharp, “We are the Wayne’s, we’ve been dubbed Gotham Royalty due to our miracle. We must be strong and unfazed by this incident.”

Damian sat, his hands grasping the chair, head hung. He stayed that way throughout the rest of the meal, his almost full plate remained untouched.

Bruce continued his speech before Damian’s interruption, “I’ve invited Selina for dinner tomorrow night. Be on your best behaviour and welcome her into the family.”

From under her headscarf, Stephanie wiggled her eyebrows at Cass and morphed into Selina. Selina wore a silky black dress to the Gift Gala that hugged each curve and her dark hair hung down straight, rather than her Afro or braids. A thin smile with pearly white teeth bared, she leaned forward, her painted cheek resting on her hand.

Cass blew smoke into Steph’s face. The shifter unmorphed, hacking up a lung but still smiled.

“Tim, where is Selina now? I need to discuss some details with her.”

Tim halted his sip, tilting his head to focus better, then resumed his sip with a sigh. “She’s with Harley and Ivy.” He turned his head to lock eyes with Bruce, “They’re having a girls day.”

The family simultaneously sucked in a breath and awaited his reaction. Bruce’s glare dragged from Tim to the Gotham streets, he lowered his hand, his fist tightening until it became paperwhite under the table. He somewhat regained his composure and grimly muttered “I’ll have to have a talk with her sooner than expected then.”

He stood, not bothering to finish his plate, “Due to this unfortunate incident today we need to work twice as hard, I expect you still to smile and show none of our flaws in front of those who aren’t a part of our family.” His gaze bounce from Damian and stopped on Marinette.

Silence filled the air but it was cut short by Alfred clearing his throat, “Master Bruce.”

Bruce clapped his hands and smiled, looking around at his children. “Our community is counting on us. La Famille Wayne!”

“La Famille Wayne!”

As soon as Bruce turned his back, Dick grabbed Marinette’s hand and pulled her out of there. They ran down the trailed path, Dick’s grip on her hand was tight and Marinette’s face winced.

“Ah! Dick! Too tight.”

He recoiled from her. His assailing hand was dragged down his face and tugged at the roots of his hair. “Shit!” His eyes locked on her, she cradled her hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry Mari, do we need to go back and see Alfred?” He gently brought her hand up to his eye level and blew on it. Pink splotches marred her skin, dread swelled inside him. “I think we should go anyway,” he scooped her up in his arms.

She gasped as he held her bridal style, hiding behind her hands from the public’s gaze. “Dick no! I really am alright!” She squirmed in his arms which only made him tighten his grip more. “Dickie! Put me down!” She whined, still squirming.

He paused and placed her down on the church’s stairs, he kneeled before her, one arm on her waist and his other hand cupping her cheek. His weary eyes gazed into hers, “Are you sure that you’re alright?”

She nodded, her eyes closed as she leant in. Dick did the same, their breath intermingled and their upper lips brushed against each other—

“Dick! The church is leaning again! Could you—“ Dick pushed the wall above him, straightening out the building. His head had snapped towards the priest, hooded eyes glowering. “Ah,” the priest lowered his pointed finger, Th-thank you.” He said before running back into the cathedral.

A shameless grin appeared on his face as he looked back at his girlfriend. “Now,” he said in a husky tone, his eyes began to close as he leant in. “Where were we?”

Something touched his lips, his eyes shot open to realise it was Mari’s pointer finger, a playful expression on her face. “You were about to do your chores Dickie.”

She heard his whines as she escaped his embrace, she looked back at him, breathless from her laughter. He was slumped and followed like a dejected puppy, lips pouting. She walked back to him and with her uninjured hand, grabbed his arm and dragged him along reading off the list of chores. As they walked through the city more people called out to them, asking Dick to do things for him; Mari noted that they ask without a please or thank you.

They made their way to the field on the far side of the city to find the lost farm animals. Farmer Beau’s fence broke during the night and his animals were long gone by morning.

“Dick! Found another chicken!” She scooped up the fluffy hen, soothing her with pats as she walked back over to their temporary pen.

“Found Marguerite!” Marinette whipped around to find Dick holding the cow named Marguerite, similarly to how she held the hen. She looked at him strangely as he placed the animal into the pen and dusted off his hands. “What?” He asked her, eyebrows furrowing.

She chuckled, shaking her head, she’ll never get used to seeing him handle cows like babies. While her head was turned she tripped over a root and fell to the floor. She had tried to catch herself with her hands but her injured hand touched the floor and pain shot up her arm. She cried out and collapsed on the floor, her pale pink skirt now dirtied by the ground.

Dick rushed to her, his hand placed on her quivering shoulder. “I knew I should’ve gotten you to Alfred sooner.”

“Dick— ah, I’m alright.”

He cut her off, “No you’re not.” He helped her sit up, brushing dirt off of her blouse and skirt. The side of her hand had started to discolour. He took off her flats, checking over her ankle there didn’t seem to be a break or sprain. Mari throughout this just reassured him that she only rolled it. “I’m so sorry mon danseur,” he held her close to his chest, pulling her onto his lap.

She melted into his chest, her exhaustion numbed her body. She almost fell asleep in his arms but her work ethic screamed at her, they still had chores to do. She pushed away from his chest, sitting up straighter, “I’m ok, mon amour. Just—” She lowered her body to rest on his, “really tired. We have to finish working though, your family will think I distracted you otherwise.”

Dick kissed her forehead and moved her over to be sitting on a rock by the tree. He made sure she was comfortable and began unbuttoning his shirt. Her cheeks flushed red as she watched, “D-dick!” She stuttered, “What are you doing?”

He took off his shirt and laid it over her, like a makeshift blanket. Her eyes flicked down to look at his shirt before she looked back up at him, lingering longer than she should have on his muscular chest.

He liked it when she gaped at his torso, wide-eyed, cheeks flushed. It was a sight he took a lot of pleasure in. She huffed, shifting her shoulders so her good hand could move the shirt higher on her body with her good hand. Dick came back to her side and hung the shirt over her shoulders, although it was a warm January winter day the wind and shade were frosty for someone not moving around.

He searched the field, Mari called out to him whenever she saw one of the animals. The last one he found was a baby lamb who had been born only a few weeks ago. He smiled down at her as she cooed and pet the baby, every so often she exclaimed how adorable and cute it was.

“Dick?” She whispered her big blues looking into his, he felt as though he couldn’t breathe. He waited in anticipation for what she was about to say, time slowed to a halt. ‘Was she going to bring up last night's conversation?’ He got nervous, he was no longer in a good mental space to talk about it.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

His hands began to shake, “Uh talk about what Mari?” All of the confidence he had earlier turned into jitters.

“About what happened earlier.”

Cold dread rushed over him, the future conversation happened last night but they were talking about her injuries beforehand. Was she going to scold him for not taking her to Alfred like he insisted? He knew he didn’t like receiving the butler’s help in the off chance they ran into Bruce. He couldn’t fathom why Bruce thinks Mari is using them for their powers, it’s always Dick convincing her to let them help.

“I’m so sorry Mari.” He pleaded on his knees, clutching the fabric of her skirt. “It was an accident but I should’ve paid more attention. You got hur—“

She frantically patted his hand, “Non, non!” He looked up with misty eyes, “I meant what happened this morning. Do you want to talk now?”

This morning when he cried.

Bruce looked around the table, a proud smile plastered on his face as he gazed upon all of his children. “I expect you still to smile,” he paused and looked at Marinette, his face falling, she swiftly bowed her head. “And show none of our flaws in front of those who aren’t a part of our family.”

“Oh,” he froze. Mari was always hesitant to go over to his house but would come anyway because he asked her. She was so strong, he needed to be stronger for her. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to be strong all the time Dickie.”

He let go, stood up and stepped back. He closed his eyes and breathed, ”I'm the strong one, I'm not nervous, I'm as tough as the crust of the earth is.”

“Dick?”

“I move mountains, I move churches, and I glow 'cause I know what my worth is.” He flexed his bare torso, and Marinette couldn’t deny, he was indeed glowing in the afternoon sunlight. He lifted a dead and fallen tree, ”I don't ask how hard the work is.” He beat his chest with a free hand whilst the tree remained lifted above his head. ”Got a rough indestructible surface. Diamonds and platinum,” he stepped towards her, ”I find 'em, I flatten 'em. I take what I'm handed, I break what's demanding. But!” He chucked the tree into the field and it splintered on impact with the ground. He picked her up bridal style with a twirl and ran out of the field.

”Under the surface.” They found themselves on an abandoned building’s roof, old clotheslines hung over the alley. He tentatively walked on it causing it to strain under his weight. He looked back at her, ”I feel berserk as a tightrope walker in a three-ring circus. Under the surface— WOAH!” The wire snapped and he fell to the floor, huffing to catch his breath. Behind the rickety old fence, a dog ran through the unlocked gate. The Rottweiler snarled at him, spit flying everywhere as it barked. ”Was Hercules ever like ‘Yo, I don't wanna fight Cerberus’?” He sprinted and jumped on a dumpster. ”Under the surface.” He pulled at the snapped wire. He used it as a makeshift lasso/muzzle, the dog growled as Dick held it back over its fence, locking the gate. ”I'm pretty sure I'm worthless if I can't be of service.”

The dog, now out of its wire bonds, pounded against the fence; peeling posters fell from the force. Said fenced was made out of brittle wood, its holes covered by diagonal wooden repairs. ”A flaw or a crack.” Dick took a step back, preparing to run as the fence was slammed again. ”The straw in the stack.” The Rottie kept slamming against its wooden cage, seeking revenge on the prey that outsmarted him. ”That breaks the camel's back.” The fence splintered, the canine’s spit foamed in its mouth. It seemed ravenous. Dick sprinted away. ”What breaks the camel's back it's—“

Dick scaled the wall seeking asylum from the deranged beast. He hung off the roof’s gutter by his fingertips. ”Pressure like a drip, drip, drip,” at each ‘drip’ he pulled himself higher until he rolled onto the roof’s tiles. ”That'll never stop,” he sang, looking up at her. ”Whoa.”

He pressed his hand to his chest, rising on each repeat. ”Pressure that'll tip, tip, tip 'till you just go pop,” his arms flung up, exploding from his chest. “Whoa.”

He walked over to the crumbled roof, it had collapsed during a storm a few years back. He pushed crumbling rocks out of the way, ”Give it to Richard, Richard’s older!”

He picked up a piece of the wall that was the size of a boulder. “Give him all the heavy things we can't shoulder! Who am I if I can't run with the ball?” He lifted it on his back, hunched over looking like atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. Although it wasn’t heavy but buckled his knee for dramatic effect. ”If I fall to…”

He threw the boulder to the side and offered a hand to Mari, helping her climb over the rubble. They found themselves in a crevasse between the debris. “Pressure like a grip, grip, grip and it won't let go,” he pushed against the pile, ”Whoa!”

They looked around the room, a grandfather clock stood proudly in the corner, living out its last days in isolation. Dick carried Mari over the fallen concrete before placing her on solid flooring. ”Pressure like a tick, tick, tick 'til it's ready to blow, whoa.” He pointed over his shoulder before kicking the clock behind them.

He spun on his back foot and walked towards the clock. ”Give it to Richard, Richard’s stronger.” He picked up the clock and ventured down the treacherous stairs. Marinette leant over the railing watching him as he delivered it to Old Man Pierre.

”Gotham’s wonder boy can do anything!” The old man cried, patting the young man on the shoulder, crying into the clock’s glass. Marinette’s head rested in her hands as she leant on the railing, smiling down at the sight below her. Her exhaustion was a long-forgotten memory, maybe it will come back after this fantasy of a day has ended.

Dick waved at her to come down. He came back inside the dilapidated building & offered her a hand. Together they rushed outside and climbed on the back of a passing garbage truck. They clutched the safety rails as the world around them whizzed by, ”See if he can hang on a little longer.” The truck hit a pothole and Dick’s tight grip ended with the railing being pulled off the truck. “Who am I if I can't carry it all? If I falter…”

He fell onto the road. Mari gasped in terror as he rolly-pollied out of the way of cars until he reached his refuge on a pedestrian island.

“Dick!” Mari pressed her body against the railing, holding on for dear life. She waited until the bus slowed down before jumping off. She weaved through cars until she made it back to him, offering her uninjured hand to help him stand.

He laid on his stomach, palms flat against the floor, elbows angled towards the clear blue sky. ”Under the surface. I hide my nerves, and it worsens, I worry something is gonna hurt us.” He reached for her hand, pulling himself up (and almost her down). ”Under the surface.” They ran through traffic, maneuvering around vehicles, ”The ship doesn't swerve as it heard how big the iceberg is!” They left the scene, echoes of angry car horns ringing in their ears.

They ran up the hill, moving wooden pallets in their way. His hand moved to her waist as they looked over Gotham. ”Under the surface.” His gaze turned to her, she didn’t notice and continued looking out to the heart of Gotham City. He brushed a leaf that was caught in her braided bun, “I think about my purpose, can I somehow preserve this?”

The sound of thudding behind them broke the moment. “Line up the dominoes—“ the pallets they had previously moved began to fall, “—A light wind blows.”

“Oh, my kwami!” Marinette exclaimed, nothing they could do would stop the destruction.

”You try to stop it tumbling, but on and on it goes!” The garbage truck from before stopped at the end of the alley, halting the sliding pallets. Somehow they ended up right where they belonged. Mari shrugged, another thing done.

Dick stopped in his tracks. ”But wait.” He turned away and looked over the hill once more. “If I could shake the crushing weight of expectations, would that free some room up for joy, or relaxation, or simple pleasure?” A bright smile on his face as he reached towards the sky hopefully.

She sent him a small smile as they slid down the hill, running across a barren plot of land. ”Instead we measure this growing pressure.” His smile slowly melted off his face as they reached the water tower, he lifted the tank, the value had broken recently so it had to be manually poured. Instead of fixing it the popular assigned that as dick’s daily chow, to water everyone’s plants. He held it on his back, resuming the Atlas position, so he could see the pour. ”Keeps growing, keep going.” He locked eyes with Marinette, “'Cause all we know is!”

“Pressure like a drip, drip, drip—“ water sloshed out of the tank and onto the plants as he jerked it. ”—that'll never stop, whoa.” He was usually a strong presence in a room but now a wilted leaf held more power over the guy. “Pressure that'll tip, tip, tip—“ he leaned forward to get the rest of the plants before straightening and dropping the tank on the ground. The water slammed against the sides of the tank until a wave poured down over dick, his white shirt become skin-tight and see-through. “—'til you just go pop, whoa-oh-oh.”

He shook his arms in frustration, agitation bubbled inside him. It was nearly sunset, shadows had already begun to descend across the empty plot.

He yelled into the air, beating a hand against his chest, “Give it to Richard, it doesn't hurt! And see if he can handle every family burden. Watch as he buckles and bends but never breaks!..”

“No mistakes,” he snarled. It scared her how much Dick had changed from the man she knew… did she even know him at all? “Just—“

The dog from the alley appeared, obviously remembering them by its growls. It charged at Dick, said man reached over the fence and grabbed their hose. The dog was cautious this time, Dick had used a clothesline to subdue the beast before but the rubber hose would have to do.

He side-eyed Mari, silently telling her to stay a safe distance away. She had helped him before in similar instances; his chores all got done quickly and he was able to work on smaller passion projects of his. Of course, Bruce praised Dick for completion of his chore but she could see the cogs turning in his head, thinking that she was making Dick lazy.

“Pressure like a grip, grip, grip and it won't let go, whoa!” The dog was on the floor. Once again muzzled but this time dick also bound its legs. It fought against its restraints, “Pressure like a tick, tick, tick 'til it's ready to blow, whoa!”

He lifted the dog and placed it into a lost shopping cart. They were a strange sight to see but the Gothamites were unphased. A boy, a girl and a bound dog in a cart; C.S.Lewis could write children’s books about this. “Give it to Richard and never wonder!” He looked at Marinette, a glowing smile on his face but it didn’t seem… right. ”If the same pressure would've pulled you under. Who am I if I don't have what it takes?” He gazed forward at the alley.

He grabbed any spare wood or sheet metal. He hammered his nails with the side of his hand. It didn’t look pretty but it should do the job.

”No cracks, no breaks.” He lifted the now calm dog over the fence and placed it into the yard. It still growled at Dick’s touch but allowed Dick to unbind him. It snapped and growled at the man, barking but not moving from where it stood.

Dick backed out of the yard and locked the gate. Dusting himself off he looked proudly at his hard work. ”No mistakes, no pressure.”

—————

“Ok so. Find animals, done. Get clock, doneee. Fix the fence, would’ve been nice if they warned us about the dog but at least that’s over with.” Marinette looked up at Dick, she was being carried in his arms again. She tried to wriggle out for the fifth time but, just like the other four, failed miserably. “Dick!” She whined, “You’re still wet! Why are you carrying me?”

“Because I want to.”

“I’ve been running around with you all day, I swear I’m fine.”

“Because you’ve been running after me all day, you need to rest your ankle. It could get worse.” He paused to readjust his hold on her, his arms weren’t tired nor was she heavy, but he learnt early on that holding someone in the same position for a long while would start to hurt them.

She had been delegated the role of chore checker. They had completed all of them, the cherry on top being the church. Both of their faces tinged pink and they looked away at the mention of it.

They, well Dick turned the corner and entered a small neighbourhood square. It was paved, a fountain in the middle and fairy lights hung by a net over their heads.

Water landed on her cheek. She looked around in confusion. It wasn’t Dick’s hair as that hadn’t been wet. They weren’t close enough to the fountain to get splashed. And last she checked there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

Welp looks like she needed to check again because more droplets landed on her semi-horizontal body, creating wet blotches on her clothes. The sky filled with tumultuous grey clouds. Streaks of lightning dance around.

“Barbara is upset, isn’t she?” Marinette knew the answer, it was a rhetorical question but she sought confirmation. Dick silently nodded before swivelling in the direction of Manoir.

Marinette lightly hit his chest, “Dick no! I shouldn’t be there.” He walked to a veranda, covering both of them from the start of the downpour.

He tried to dispute her but she swiftly responded with, “Mon amour, I’m not a Wayne. I shouldn’t interfere with you guys. Bruce already doesn’t like me, this will just be giving him another reason to believe I’m sticking my nose in a place where it doesn’t belong.”

She had a point, dick hated it but she was right.

He finally placed her down. She felt like dancing in joy the moment her tippy toes touched the pavement. She waved her goodbyes, wished him goodnight and asked him to give Barbara a hug for her.

He caught her hand before she could walk far. He raised it to his lips and kissed her bruised knuckles. “Come to dinner tomorrow night. I’ll make my intentions clear to Bruce.”

“Dick I really shouldn’t.” She protested, “He doesn’t like me.”

“I won’t take no for an answer Mari.”

Chapter Text

Marinette wandered around the marketplace, a woven basket in the crook of her arm. She had almost gotten all of her groceries and now was looking at the spools of fabric. This stall sold many different ‘exotic’ items.

The people of Gotham were trapped in this mountain range but a few of them managed to find a way out; they’d always come back though. The mountain range was treacherous. At some points, it was a jagged cliff side streaking up into the sky. Gotham children always marvelled at her circus in wonder. They travelled in and out of Gotham frequently. Along with being circus performers, they brought merchants to sell their wares and even sold some things of their own. They became travelling merchants of sorts.

The circus gave them the opportunity to leave the prison, why wouldn’t they come back to the cage they were born in eventually? For anyone out of the know, you would almost say it’s magical.

The big tent is gone, along with the animals’ white tent. The majority of the performers had left only a few days after the shows, moving on to the next city to enter them with their wonderful fantasies. Only Marinette and a few others stayed in town, returning to their old homes.

She smiled fondly as she remembered her parents' reaction to her coming home. Her mum screamed and dropped her bowl of dough and when her dad came to check on them she was pulled into the biggest bear hug in history.

Then they launched into all the things she missed; how the business was going, how Nona Gina was when she came to visit (she was another Gotham Escapist) and they told her about Dick. Whenever he completed his stack of chores, which was growing higher each day, he would come by and exclusively ask them if they needed any help or any work done.

Her heart grew warm and her eyes misted. He did everything from building them a new oven to kneading dough. They tried to offer him compensation (something that didn’t happen with his other ‘chores’ because community), but he’d refuse by saying “Your time is my payment.”

It just made her love him even more.

An arm slithered around her waist, she looked up to see Dick’s best friend Wally. She raised an eyebrow at him. He smiled down at her, eyes crinkling. “Hi, Mari!” He chirped while taking the basket from her.

“Hi, Wally?” She replied, confusion evident in her tone. “Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? (What’s the matter?)”

His smile widened and became flirtatious. “Can’t I just spend time with a beautiful dame?”

“This ‘dame’ is taken. So retract your arm or extract yourself from the nearest building.”

“I’d love to see what you can do with that aggression.” He leaned closer to her ear, and her body tensed. With a whisper, he said, “I’d let you order me around any day.”

“Then heed this order, let go!” She didn’t have anything to worry about with Wally, he was Dick’s friend after all. He had done this before to get on Dick’s nerves, his flirts were shallow, if not puddle deep in depth. She huffed at him when her escape attempt failed again, she couldn’t do much with her injured hand. What with all these strong guys wanting to keep her in their arms?

“Wally!” Dick ran up to them, glaring at the ginger. He shushed him away and gently pulled Marinette into his arms. He gave her a thorough once over and found no visible injuries, although he noted that the hand he squeezed yesterday was covered by a glove. He knew in the back of his mind that Wally would never hurt her, he just wanted her in his arms and reassurance.

Marinette pouted and huffed again, her arms crossed as she sulked. From one grip to another. She just wanted to look at pretty fabric.

“Heeeey birdy!” Wally leant against the wall behind him, smiling at the couple in front of her. “I saw your bug all alone. Thought someone else might swoop in and take her away.” Dick’s glare narrowed before shifting to the basket Wally was holding. “Oh, this is your bug’s. I’m just helping her hold it.”

“Just hand it here Wally, I don’t want to be stuck in another glare-off.” She held out her hand, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“I can’t leave, I am too entranced by your beauty, it’s hypnotising.”

“Wally,” Dick warned.

Wally stepped forward. But instead of giving her the basket, he kissed the back of her hand. Dick's hand shot out and flicked the man’s forehead, Wally’s head arched back and he landed on his behind, vision spinning. Dick stepped around his best friend’s pile of limbs and retrieved the basket, thankfully the eggs hadn’t cracked.

“Bye Wonder Boy!” Wally called out as they left. Marinette cried internally from not getting any of the textiles.

The couple finally rested on a raised curb. The Wayne family mural laid behind them. It was many years old, it was originally painted around the time Steph got her miracle but recently Damian had been added with Titus by his side.

Dick watched as Marinette rubbed her fingertips over the painting. His gaze drifted downwards. He looked solemnly at the black-gloved hand on her lap. He shot up, spine straight as a pin as he dug through his pocket. She looked at him strangely as he handed her his scrunched-up handkerchief. He unwrapped it and it was a squashed croissant.

“Oh um, here.” He placed the pastry on her lap, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Sorry, I asked Alfred to make it.”

She couldn’t refuse that face. She took a bite out of it, her hand and ankle tingled. She shifted and kissed his cheek. They looked up at the painting of the Wayne Clan.

Bruce was in the centre, arms bent in front of him, holding the candle. Dick, as always, stood to Bruce’s right, he held a piano over their heads. Alfred stood on the other side, he carried a plate of food. Each of the three men were dressed in blacks and whites, Mari’s nose scrunched, she had never seen any of them wear a colour. Personally she thinks Dick would look good in a baby blue, Alfred maybe a dark teal?

Tim, Barbara, Steph and Duke stood nearest to Dick.

Tim wore a canary yellow tunic with darker yellow curved lines to represent the soundwaves he hears. He was posed with his signature mug of coffee and his other hand cupped at his ear.

Barbara was standing in the painting, her hair was in a side braid and round glasses perched on her nose. She wore a tan blouse that had flared sleeves and a long orange skirt; it was embroidered with sunset clouds. Her hands were positioned in front of her, with a yellow sun shining brightly behind her.

Steph’s ability couldn’t be easily captured in the painting, so, similar to her door, she held a dramatic mask. Her eggplant coloured dress was buckled at the waist with another mask, it was the same at the collar of her blouse.

Duke wore yellow linen pants with a black top. His yellow was a few shades darker, maybe a mustard? His hands created a circle and his light sparked in the centre.

Cass, Damian and a man she didn’t know stood next to Alfred.

Cass wore her usual black cargo pants with a grey and gold top. Her hair and part of her forehead had vanished in a cloud of smoke.

Damian wore his modified green bisht, with embroidery running along the hems. A golden snake necklace created the neckline for his black shirt. He, along with the unknown man, were the only two who didn’t smile in the mural.

Her hand paused. Previously it had run over each person in the painting but she was confused by the last person. Cass and his arms were interlaced and the white strip in his hair was smoking, similar yet it somehow seemed different from Cass’. She turned towards Dick who was staring at her intently, cheeks resting on his hand.

He sat up straight but sighed. Dick averted his eyes to the ground before finally looking up at his brother. He avoided this mural religiously. Jason’s smirk was too close to a smile. His hair looked combed, not messy. Clothes had no holes or tears from rats and fights; red shirt, black leather jacket, denim pants and combat boots. No scars.

They looked like a happy family here. Most wore smiles and held their closest relatives. They looked like a full happy family with Jason.

He whispered his brother’s name, forehead thudding against the mural.

“I have to go.” He stood up, eyes still closed. He knew they would be red and watery if he exposed them to the world. He had to keep up with the mural’s facade; the Wayne Family’s facade.

Marinette watched his back become smaller and smaller before becoming obscured by the crowd. She left as well. Wandering through the markets with her basket slowly getting heavier, although she was almost done before she needed something to keep her busy.

“Did you hear about the Wayne’s?”

“Hear? I saw! I was in the room when the magi—” The First Lady shushed her friend, a painted hand covering the loud girl’s face. She nervously chuckled at the watching crowd before pulling her friend off to the side.

“No! Not about the magic, the wedding! I heard there was an engagement.” The First Lady quietly squealed. Marinette watched them from the corner of her eye as she pretended to look over the merchant’s wares. The lady’s loud friend made a noise of bafflement and had a dumbfounded look on her face. “Shhhh shush! I heard it was tonight as well!”

‘Tonight?’ Dick had invited her to dinner tonight. Her hands trembled as she remembered yesterday’s conversation and his baby blue eyes.

“Mari I was thinking,” He paused hesitantly. “Tonight made me realise we’ve never discussed the future…” His voice trailed off but his eyes never left her, his cheeks reddened. “What do you see in your future? Did you want to be married sometime in the near future?”

‘Was this what he meant?’

She didn’t wait around for her brain to make up an answer. Marinette hurried off. Apparently she needed another thing to be busy from.

And when you have two things to be busy from, you eventually run out of things to do. So you go with the lesser of two evils.

She eventually circled back around to the mural. She looked back at the painted faces and compared them to the family she saw almost daily (well, daily since she returned).

“They don't seem upset or mad at all.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, tearing her eyes away. “So don't feel regret or sad at all.”

She looked around at everyone going out of their daily lives “Hey, I'm not a part of the family, it’s understandable.” She shrugged her shoulders. “And I'm fine, I am totally fine. I will stand on the side as they shine”

Her eyes clouded, tears obscuring her vision. She didn’t let them fall though; the Wayne’s never falter so why should she? Especially if Dick planned on making her a Wayne tonight. How would she hyphen her name? Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Wayne? Or what about Alphabetical order; Marinette Cheng-Dupain-Wayne. Or maybe a mash of the three? Marinette Dupengne. Wait Dick’s name is Hyphenated as well; Dick Wayne-Grayson. Marinette Dupain-Grayson-Cheng. Marinette Dupengson. Marinette Dupeng-Wayson. Her mind was a mess, she was a mess.

She wasn’t ready for this. But I guess who is ever ready for their lives to change. The Wayne’s, the foundation of Gotham certainly weren’t. “I'm not fine, they’re not fine.” She finally let those tear drops fall.

Have you ever felt like you were drowning on dry land? When your clear vision is swimming and the breathable air isn’t able to enter your lungs.

Have you ever seen those blue speckles when you close your eyes? They form many different shapes, whatever your heart desires. She felt like she was there. Chest screaming for a breath as images from her mind flooded the darkness before her.

“I can't move the mountains.” The blue, navy and black rippled beneath her feet. Heat rushed through her body and she felt her heartbeat in her hands. She looked down at them and felt like her fingers were alight like candle wicks. “I can't make infernos bloom.”

She threw her arms down, sparks flying off of her finger tips. “I can't take another night watching their tomb!” She stamped her foot, her pink skirt swishing. Her mouth formed into a pout, “Waiting on a miracle.”

“I can't heal what's broken.” Bandages wrapped around her like they were sent to mummify her, before exploding out in a flurry. “Can't control the morning rain or a hurricane.” She grabbed at her chest as she took another step into the darkness. “Can't keep down the unspoken invisible pain. So I’ll be waiting on a miracle, a miracle!”

She couldn’t tell whether the darkness from her eyes had faded and her sight was restored or if she was viewing a memory. She was peeking from behind a pillar and watched as the Wayne’s walked aimlessly around their mansion. “They're always walking alone, always wanting for more.” She flipped and pressed her back against the square pillar. The coldness from the stone creeped into her skin. “Like they're still at that door longing to shine—“ she gazed as Bruce walked downstairs, coffee in hand, sipping it nonchalantly. “—Like you hoped they’d all shine. . .”

She ran away from the mansion, darkness surrounded her. She looked back as the clouds of darkness covered the mansion. She yelled into the mist, “All they need is a change. . . All they need is a chance!” She puffed up her chest and turned away. “All I know is I can't stay on the side! Watching them die, open your eyes, open your eyes!”

She pushed her hands out as if to slam open a double door, the black and blue world around her rippled. “I would move the mountains. Make new flames and fires grow.” She didn’t know why she was saying what she was but it just felt right. She felt a gush of wind blow, her hair whipped around. “Someone please just let me know, where do I go? They’re waiting on a miracle, a miracle.”

Images of faces appeared before her. Damian’s hurt face after the destruction of his room and his father’s dismissive attitude. Steph’s sorrow-filled song, belted out through choked sobs. Dick’s anxiety ridden shoulders carried the weight of his family. “Show this family something new. Who they are inside, so what can I do? They’re sick of waiting on a miracle, so here I go!” She stamped her foot, blue sparks erupted around her.

“I am ready! Come on, I'm ready!”

She ran again. Reaching out her arms, she swung around. She twirled, semi in place, as she let go. She felt solid ground beneath the soles of her ballet flats. She saw her reflection materialise in front of her in an outline of blue sparks. Her reflection joyed her in clutching their chests. They both spun on their heels and stood back to back.

“I've been patient, and steadfast, and steady! Help me now as you blessed them all those years ago. . .” She flung her arms out and belted out her final notes, head held high. “When you gave them a miracle!”

The tears fell from her eyes and the blackness faded. Her knees gave way and she plopped down on something soft. She looked around, she found pink walls with cherry blossoms and Chinese lucky cats; sewing materials scattered everywhere and posters for the circus littered the floor. Her eyes slowly dragged from the mess to the sobering sunset outside her window.

“Are we too late for a miracle?” Her hoarse voice trailed off into the silence of the wind.

She hung her head. Her heart was filled with guilt and worry.

‘Is there really nothing I can do?’ She splashed some water on her face, hoping to calm down her hot cheeks and swollen eyes. ‘Wait. . .’ Her eyes snapped back to the window.

Sunset.

The Wayne’s Dinner.

Dick’s proposal.

“Oh shit!” She rubbed her face (which did nothing for the redness) and ran out of the room, putting on her nicest white blouse. Slipping on her ballet flats she ran out the door. She ran down the street, running her hands through her hair trying to flatten the frizz.

Her heart beat louder than her footsteps. She looked out of the corner of her eye, she saw herself running in the windows. She looked like a brewing storm; the tension in her shoulders and the air; the darkening clouds and bags under her eyes; the anxiety and nerves before the rain came.

Distracted by the hurricane of thoughts in her head she bumped into someone on this barren backstreet. “Sorry!” She yelled, not looking at her victim, they seemed to still be standing though so they were hopefully fine. She rubbed her arm and cursed under her breath, whoever they were, they were built like a brick wall.

Said person watched as she ran down Gotham’s Crime Alley. His heavy leather boots scuffed against the gravel path, a dust cloud blew past him but he didn’t mind. He had a red bandanna over his nose and mouth and a brown leather jacket with a dark maroon hood. He watched as she disappeared around a corner, he knew where she was going and knew that this was a storm he didn’t want to miss.

—————

She arrived at Wayne Manor, albeit very late. Before walking through the giant door to the she looked at the sun, or where it should be. It had just dipped behind the mountain range but she could see the rays through the orange clouds against the purple sky. Maybe it was waiting on her so she wouldn’t be tardy. She might be able to sneak in, they probably haven’t started dinner yet.

All eyes turned to her as she entered. So much for her naive hopefulness. She nervously chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck as her eyes shot to the floor.

“You’re late,” Bruce grumbled from his place at the head of the table. She could feel his dark eyes glaring holes into her.

She scurried to her seat, Dick helped push in her chair and held her hand under the table. She wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but it would be like a scream into the blanket of silence that laid across the dinner table. It didn’t help that she was only one seat away from Bruce, because once again Dick was his right hand man.

Selina sat diagonally across from her and smiled a Cheshire grin. “Nice to meet you! Marinette right?” She held out a hand to shake, “I’m Selina, we’ve seemed to always miss each other.”

A small smile appeared on the young girl’s face. “Lovely to meet you too.”

Selina hunched her body towards her, chin lent upon her hand. “So tell me about yourself, Precious.” Selina purred and Marinette squeaked, her cheeks reddening.

The young lady’s hands clenched at her pink skirt. “I—” she stuttered, “—I work as a performer and costume director at Miraculous Circus.”

Selina’s eyes widened and her back straightened. “Oh wow,” she exclaimed, her face was one of shock and awe. “That’s quite an achievement!”

Bruce watched as those two were deep in conversation. The hand holding his cup tensed and turned white at the knuckles. His shoulders, like always, were tense. He didn’t project it but anxiety was pumping through his veins. He didn’t know who he could trust with his family’s miracle, so he was suspicious of everyone.

“I adore the circus! All the bright lights, costumes and acts. It’s just. . .” Selina waved her arm around trying to find the right words. “Oh, I don’t know! Magical?”

He adopted many children and teens into his family, so he’d like to say that he had good judgement; but there was a dark blot in the family’s past that wrecked everything.

“We do try our best to achieve that.” Marinette grinned. “Were you at our last performance of the year?”

Could he trust Selina? Would she use the power she is given to finally do good? He loved Selina but she could be so difficult. She didn’t have the cleanest record.

“Hm? Oh! I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I finally would get to see Dickies girl that he’s been raving about!”

Bruce’s eyes shifted to his eldest son, who grumbled in embarrassment. Next to him was Marinette, she looked at Dick with a teasing grin.

Could he trust Marinette? She and Dick had been dating for many years. Unlike himself and Selina, who were frequently on and off; the young couple had stuck it out through thick and thin, bearing the long distances and periods of lacking contact. But in his eyes, Marinette was a distraction to Dick, who needed to be strong for the sake of the family.

Bruce didn’t even want to give her the time of day but his children begged for her to come. He just hoped she wouldn’t ruin any of his plans.

“I must have missed you. The audience is dark so it’s hard to see. Sorry I didn’t say hello when I was over greeting the others.”

“I was sitting with my girlfriends during the show.” Selina leaned forward, the black fabric covering her torso touched the table. “One of them, Harley Quinn, used to be a clown. She wasn’t a circus performer—“

“Selina.” Bruce warned and the room went silent. Nothing but her musings filled the room. His fists clenched again. He had told her that she shouldn’t socialise with people like Ivy and Harley. ‘Why does she never listen?’

“—she was more—“ Selina was cut off by Bruce again. He warned her once more with a deep and dark tone. The cat burglar turned to her boyfriend, a wide grin pulled at her cheeks. “—freelance.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed but her grin never faltered.

Before silence could find a foothold Alfred came in with the meals, wordlessly Dick and Marinette got up to help the elderly butler.

Bruce raise his glass, “To a perfect night! À votre santé(cheers).”

The family followed suit.

Although the meal was delicious, Marinette left like it rotted in her dry throat. She was so, so nervous. The spoon in her hand shook. It didn’t help that Tim was staring her down. She knew he had super sonic hearing. Did he know that Dick was going to propose? Or was he angry at her for being scared about it. Was he offended by her song?

She felt Dick lean her way and whisper in her ear, asking if she was ok. She nodded at him, her gaze returning down the table. She saw Tim whispering in Barbara’s ear, a thundering cloud forming over her head.

Bruce interrupted his conversation with Selina to state the obvious. “Barbara. You have a cloud.”

Barbara clasped her hands in front of her and shut her eyes tightly. “Clear skies, clear skies, clear skies.” She whispered. Both Selina and Marinette looked at the red head confusedly. They hadn’t seen Barbara chant or need to calm herself down before.

She looked away again but the whispering returned. She saw images appear in Cass’ smoke as she passed on what Barbara said to her to Steph. It was a mix of smoke signaling and sign language, if Marinette had to guess. Steph coughed, choking on her dinner as her face contorted and shifted into other people. In the smoke and the shifting faces she saw her face along with the guy from the mural.

That just confused her more. Why were they talking about him and her?

She felt something shift. She looked around. She felt the shift along with some crackling noise. She looked around again. The floor underneath her chair showed a slow building crack. She gasped and bent down to look closer.

“Marinette.” She slammed her head into the table, her back shooting up pin straight. Selina’s brows furrowed, “Are you ok?”

Marinette’s lips pursed as she rapidly nodded. Her hand sneaked up the back of her neck, fingers entwined in her hair searching for a bump on her skull.

“She’s just excited!” Dick cut in, laughing. Marinette looked at him confusedly, he winked, his signal to ‘play along’. He stood up, patting her shoulder. “She’s just excited—“ he walked over to Bruce and turned his chair to face Selina. “—For your announcement!”

“Which you should do!” Barbara chimed in. She flicked her hand, a small twist of wind swung Selina’s chair so she sat directly before Bruce.

“Which you should do right now!” Dick tipped Bruce’s chair, the Wayne head fell on his knees.

Selina looked down at him, her braided black hair hung over her shoulder. She raised an eyebrow, her smirk fading off, until it was nothing more than a whisper on her lips.

Bruce cleared his throat and reached around to grab an item out of his pocket. “Selina.” He gazed into her eyes, a rare genuine smile appeared. “You are the most passionate woman I know. Will you be my wife?”

The Cheshire grin returned to Selina’s red lips. “What took you so long?”

The family cheered and whistled in joy. After years and years and years of the couple being on and off; back and forth; building up and tearing down.

Her eyes sparkled as the ring slid onto her finger. “Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever stolen something this pretty.”

She looked back up at Bruce’s face, his smile had been wiped clean and a scowl stood in its place. “Selina,” he said in a warning tone.

She patted his cheek with a cheeky grin before she booped his nose, he subconsciously flinched backwards. “Relax Brucie~”

“Show us!” Steph rose out of her chair and stumbled over. She gasped in awe at the ring. Selina tilted her hand forward so she could show it off to the Wayne children. It was a princess cut three carat diamond with two smaller black sapphires either side, embedded into a band of white gold. It was gorgeous.

Marinette’s head spun. She realised she had been holding her breath this whole time. She closed her eyes, shoulders dropped and she silently sighed. She was happy but unhappy at the same time. ‘Why am I like this?’ She questioned. The sinking pit of anxiety was gone but a sense of numbness replaced it; she couldn’t tell if that was better or worse.

She painted a smile on her face, ‘It’s an engagement. I should be happy.’ She gasped when she saw the ring, it was perfect for Selina. “It’s beautiful Selina.”

“Thank you, Precious.” Marinette blushed at the nickname, her eyes flying away from the source of her embarrassment.

"If you’re acting like this, the fearless circus flyer, I can only imagine the looks on Harley and Ivy's faces when they see this!” Selina hugged her arms to her chest, hands clasped together she gazed down at her newly acquired jewellery. She spun on her heel, her black leather and velvet skirt twisted around her slender legs. “Babs! Tim! You’re the planners of the family. What do you think of red bridesmaid dresses? I think Harley and Ivy both would look amazing in red."

"I thought you were going to stop associating with those criminals."

Her red lips pouted as she grabbed the back of her chair. The air became heavy. “Bruce,” she paused, seemingly in a state of disbelief. “They’re my best friends.”

A cloud began to brew overhead but no one could take their eyes off of the incoming disaster to notice. Marinette feels her chair shift again and the cracks camouflaged with the sound of rolling thunder.

“They’re criminals.”

“They were criminals. They’ve stopped just like me. We’re still rough around the edges and don’t always make the best decision but we try.” She pursed her lips. “I thought you knew that, and that’s why you proposed.”

They seemed to forget that they were surrounded by children and young adults, Alfred tried to usher them out but they were lost in conversation.

“I thought you knew better.” He slammed his fist down on the table, the plate and silverware jumped and clattered back onto the wooden table. “You haven’t changed.I have a duty to protect our family’s miracle from people who will use it for greed and destruction.”

“Are you saying I’m using you?” She yelled, her mocha skin turning pink from anger.

“I’m saying I thought you behaved better.”

Her wordless shriek ricocheted around the room.

Her fingers grabbed at her engagement ring, she thought about chucking it on the floor in a moment of righteous dramaticism; but it was too pretty for that.

‘I can’t throw it away.’ She turned on her heel and swiftly walked out the door with a straight back and her head held high. ‘Seems like it will now be the prettiest thing I’ve ever stolen.’

Her clicking heels in the tile were drowned out by booming thunder as a torrent of rain poured down. Steph and Mari screamed as they tried to escape the rain. Damian’s animals scampered across the tiles, Titus’ paws slipped and he dragged the whole table cloth down as well. Steph started shifting wildly and Tim held hands over his ears yelling at Barbara to shrink the storm. Duke and Cass were at Barbara’s side trying to calm her down.

In the end Dick lifted all his siblings out into the courtyard; Steph, Mari and Alfred met them carrying towels to dry off.

Bruce came out last. He refused the towel and stormed up to his room. A trail of wet footprints and a broken engagement left in his wake. His door slammed but the storm raged on.