Chapter Text
Tim Drake felt his feet drag as he entered his brownstone, his eyes drooping as he put away his keys and laid the large stack of Bruce’s files on the table. The top file slipped off the side table and his fingers closed on empty air as instead of catching the dropping file he managed to knock the rest of the stack off the table. The sound of the rest of the files sliding to the floor harkened the slump of his shoulders and a soft sigh. The seventeen-year-old knelt in the mass of pushed off and neglected files and began gathering and sorting. With patrol canceled for him for the week in favor of the company, Tim felt he at least had time to clean up the mess that was left over from his stint saving Bruce.
A knock sounded on the door.
With a shuttering thud, the once locked front door slammed open and Dick and Damien both strolled in in time to see him crawling on the floor.
“Oh, the trash crawls among the refuse. Imposter we have a task for you.”
“Dami, we need him to do something, so be nice.” Tim winced and sat back on his haunches. The scar tissue over his missing spleen stretched uncomfortably as he clambered to his feet to look at the uninvited guests at eye level.
“I’m sorry, I’m bogged down with Wayne tech paperwork for the week.”
“Even someone who was incompetent at managing two identities could accommodate this task.” Damien tisked as he spoke. His voice as aristocratic as he could manage for an 11-year-old.
“Please Timbo? We need this looked at. And we have patrol soon, unlike you.” Dick looked Ernest over the shoulder of his little brother, not realizing that by not reprimanding Damien, it sounded like he was agreeing with him.
“What do you need?” He felt his voice crack a bit as he looked over at the others. Sick reached into his jacket and pulled out a black folder.
“If you can go through this and get back to me as soon as you can, that would be perfect!” The file was almost an inch thick, with several notations already decorating the edges of the pages slipping out. It was the eighth such file he has received this week without so much as a thank you. Both brothers swanned out the door, having gotten him to accept the file, not looking back or saying any sort of thanks. Tim sighed and went back to sorting.
It took the better part of an hour to get the initial mess cleaned up, and all the files stacked where they belonged. Just in time for his doorbell to ring.
This time the door stayed shut as he shambled over to it. On the other side stood a delivery guy, with a big bag of takeout hanging from his hand. The smell of fried chicken and spicy sauce drifted up to his nose, as the bag was passed into his spirited hands.
“Delivery for Drake, from someone named Babs?”
“Yea I know who that is. Thanks! I will call her and let her know I got it.”
“Sounds good man.” With that Tim turned back into his building and fumbled for his phone with full hands
“You didn’t have to send me dinner, but I really appreciate it.” Was the first words out of his mouth as he balanced takeout and his phone and his files on the way to the living room.
“Well, when the boys drop off another thing they don’t want to do on you I pity you enough to make sure you eat.”
“Thanks, means a lot to me. I just Have to Get This Done, and I have a day off. And I can actually see you. And thank you in person with those chocolates you like.”
“I appreciate it wonder boy. I’m feeling dark this time!” She hummed softly, the clicking of computer keys drifting over the line as both worked. Finally, Barbra sighed. “Tim, you can’t keep doing this. Something is going to give soon. You already cut Red Robin out of the equation in favor of keeping the company going while Bruce acclimated to being home again. But now they are badgering you to do their busy work while they fly across the city. First Bruce brought you work, then Stephanie, then Dick, and it has simply compounded from there. When did you sleep last? And don’t think I’m not tracking what Damien has been saying. You need to set some boundaries, or this will only get worse. Even Jason has stopped by, and he is still on the outs with the other bats!”
“It’ll be ok Babs. I just need to get through today, get all this turned in and I can rest.” The scratch of pen on paper punctuated his words as he snapped shut the first of many files and took a bite of his chicken.
“I need to go wonder boy, just remember, Cass and I are on your side. And if you need more time off to get yourself into a better head space we will get you all the time you need.”
“Thanks Babs. You are the absolute best. See you tomorrow!” A dial tone sounded in Tim’s ear. Smiling he put the phone down, cracked his Knuckles and got to work.
Xxx xxx
Marinette felt the weight of expectations on her shoulders. Felt the pressure from all of Paris who wanted to be free of Hawkmoth. She remembered Chloe sobbing as she tried desperately to fight off Hawkmoth, remembered Miracle Queen with a feeling of dread and sorrow. Remembered losing the Master, most of her temporary holders, and her temper. She remembered with eyes closed everything that happened after. The bullying, the loss, Lila, and her broken heart as Lila and Adrien started dating.
Her bare walls mocked her with their echoes.
No pictures of friends to put in the place of what she pulled down. And it was here that Marinette remembered Luka. Her rock, her rocker, her best and one of her only friends. There were no pictures of them, but at least he was there for her. He was a wonderful person, willing to put his feelings to the side to be a friend for her. And she loved him for it. And as she packed her last bag, Marinette remembered why she was doing this. Moving out at seventeen was… unadvisable. But she no longer had a choice, as it was “Stop Bullying Her. No, I Don’t Believe You! Enough!” And eventually things escalated to the point she was buying her own food to eat at night, buying anything she needed to replace at school, anything her “friends” took from the bakery, and whatever else her parents decided to charge her for.
Thank God for Jagged.
Now Legally emancipated, employed at Jagged’s personal Stylist, and moving into a large apartment in the Hotel Jagged lived at, the young designer was contemplating roommates, and living, and freedom. She even had schooling set up, with online classes beginning in September. Her new apartment was two floors below Chloe, who was starting homeschooling classes with her.
Tears leaked out of her eyes as she listened to all the vitriol drifting loudly from the main floor. A press on her hip reminded Marinette that Tiki was with her, and so where the Other Kwami. She shut the last bag of meager belonging she was taking with her and looked at the bag of trash. Lying next to it was a single photo of her family, before Lila and the teachers and her old friends convinced her parents that she was a violent person with extreme Jealousy and a bullying nature. Softly trembling fingers reached down.
“Leave it.” Snapped a harsh voice. Marinette didn’t jump like the person obviously hoped but she did pull her hand back and look up. “You chose to leave this house, this family, and all the principles we raised you with. You don’t deserve any of our family photos or mementos. I should search your bag to make sure you aren’t stealing anything! But I won’t because that gives a foolish, useless child like you too much power. Your ride is here. Leave, don’t ever come back, and never use our name as yours again. You don’t deserve it.” Sabine pulled no punches as she spoke. Her eyes where chips of stone as she looked over the handful of bags and boxes accumulated in the middle of the room.
None of the big sewing machines or tooled that Sabine remembered buying for her former daughter were packed away. Only bags of fabric , a duffel bag of clothing, and two boxes of things she couldn’t live without where packed. Marinette hadn’t even taken the pillows or blankets from the bed.
“Goodbye Sabine Cheng. I loved you, and did my best, and you sided with my bullies. I’m sorry that I wasn’t good enough for you. Thank you for teaching me how not to be a parent.” Marinette gathered up her bags and boxes with a strength that surprised her former Mother, and with her head held high, she walked gracefully out of the room, down the stairs, and out to the waiting car with Penny Rolling standing next to it.
“Is that everything Mari Dear?”
“Yes Aunt Penny. There is nothing else I want from here.” They packed the meagre Pile into the trunk and began to head home.
“Aunt Penny, do you think Uncle Jagged was serious when he said I should change my last name to Stone like his?” The tentative question was soft in the car. Music played on the background as the two women continued their long track against the traffic.
“Absolutely! I think nothing would make him happier!” Penny didn’t even hesitate in her answer.
“Marinette R. Stone. It has a nice ring to it.” Marinette smiled sadly as she thought of the paperwork that would legally remove the last of her former family from her life. Penny was quick to move the conversation on.
“MRS. it’s an interesting acronym for your store.” Penny hummed in thought and the car was silent for a while before Marinette spoke again.
“No, it will be Stone’s Rolling designs. After all, none of this would have happened without the two of you. I should pay homage to that. It’s not just me anymore, it’s us, as a family.” Penny smiled softly. The rest of the car ride was a discussion on what she would need to really get her new business off the ground and how she could accommodate her last year of school while she did it.
Xxx
Luka Coffain was having a bad day. It was a bad day, from a bad week, from a bad summer. Having Juleka home all summer would have normally been great! They created good music together for the band and for their friends. But it had been years now since they truly saw eye to eye, and this summer it came to a head when he found out that the band was lying to him to make him keep playing and keep him from one of his best friends, Marinette. Once it all came out, he quit the band. Watching as they found a new guitarist to play with them and seeing how they struggled with the music they knew and with writing new songs. It came to a head the previous day when Juleka barged into his side of the room, knocking the partition over and demanding he write new music for them, because they deserved it for dealing with him for so long.
“No Juleka. I chose who I write for, and I chose not to write for you.”
“If this is about that bitch then she had it coming and just because you can’t see how terrible she was before she quit school doesn’t mean we can’t see it.” One of the other kids from the band was behind Juleka, and Luka had to grind his teeth at their comment. He did his best to ignore everyone else and just talk with his sister.
“Jules, we already talked about this. Mari is my friend, my best friend. I won’t write for you because you used me, lied to me, and hurt me and my friends by doing so. My choice, my reasons. Me. No one else.”
“Argh, you are the most frustrating brother ever!” She hissed getting into his personal space in a way that made his skin crawl.
“I’m your only brother.” He stepped back, but she kept crowding him.
“Yea, well, I wish I had another.” With that Juleka and her new band and new friends Luka didn’t even care to remember the names of walked out of the room finally leaving him in peace.
Now he meditated to clear his mind, even if no one else on the boat seemed to want to let him. Constant banging, shouting, music practice, stomping around and the occasional pointed rap against the door to distract him had his teeth grinding and his skin crawling. Juleka seemed more and more unlike herself the more time passed, and he found himself missing his non-confrontational little sister more as time wore on. Finally giving up, he checked his phone and smiled.
A text from Marinette’s new number graced the screen, with a bunch of happy emoji and an invite to see the new place.
Luka popped up with gusto and began to pack up his guitar. Time to make some positive things start happening today.
Maybe Marinette would like a housewarming gift?
Luka looked at his phone again and made up his mind. He could afford to buy a little something if he didn’t go overboard with it. The part time job he had would cover the gift and the lunch he was suddenly craving. Maybe Mari would like some move in pizza.
With a spring in his step, Luka left the boat and its unhappy occupiers behind.
It was a good day to see a friend.