Work Text:
Prompt: “I want you to leave.”
Marinette gripped the handle of the railing, holding on for dear life. Her breathing felt pained but there was nothing wrong with her. Tears ran down her cheeks which she tried to messily wipe as if it would do any good when more hot ones rolled down anyhow. She hiccupped as she looked at the person who was supposed to be her best friend . The one who was looking at her as if she didn’t galivant with him every night. As if she didn’t keep him company when the house, he lived in was far too quiet. As if she didn’t hold him when he was hit and treat him when he was sick. As if she didn’t put bandages on his bruises and lay kisses on his forehead as they drifted off to sleep cuddled under the stars on top of an abandoned building in an abandoned section of the city.
“Tim… I don’t understand.”
“I know.”
“Please… tell me what I did wrong. I… I can fix it! I can fix it! I promise you; I promise you I can fix it! Please Tim! Let me!”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
The words on his tongue came off cold. Biting. Like a silver knife that slides down your wrist, not enough to pierce the skin completely but it leaves a harsh white line that hurts all the same.
“Then why!”
He stood silently, suddenly not able to meet her eyes.
Marinette took a shuddering breath in and walked towards him. She stood before him and ducked down until their eyes met again, “Tell me what happened Tim.”
And then he snapped.
He pushed the small girl away as he glared harshly at her, “Why do you care! Why are you still trying to be nice to me! Why!”
“Because you’re my friend!”
“No!” Tim walked quickly till they were toe to toe, leaning down and spitting into her face, “You are not my friend. You’re an annoyance. You don’t mean anything. ”
“You don’t mean that,” Marinette said, but her voice shook with her shoulders that she just couldn’t steady.
“I do.” He said more calmly, taking a step back so he wasn’t so close.
“I don’t understand.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Tim…”
“I want you to leave.”
He left no room for argument. His eyes narrowed and he turned away, directing his gaze to the sobering horizon as if he couldn’t stand to see her. He heard her stuttering breath, and he could feel her agonizing gaze burn into his back, singing through his clothes and skin to his heart so it took up in flames in his chest, but he refused to let that pain show.
“I want you to leave,” he repeated again. Quieter. With less weight as if lifting the knife from her wrist and allowing her to back away. To stop the hurting.
“Ok,” her voice was gentle, barely heard over the breeze. It was fragile like autumn leaves, blowing away in the wind to be crushed under some animal's foot. Insignificant and forgotten.
He heard her steps, going away, away, away, away.
His heart longed for her to stay, to call her back, to hug her and apologize and fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness, to plead and sob and tell her he didn’t mean a word.
But instead, he just stood there. Staring off into the distance, eyes unfocused and glazed over, tears dripping down his cheeks. His chest expanded as he took a deep breath in, trying to steel himself.
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
“Good job. Now, we can begin your training.”
The weight left his shoulders, and he heard the steps he was supposed to follow start to leave. He sucked in a harsh breath and finally turned around to look where his best friend, his Marinette, had run off under the impression that he despised her and wanted nothing to do with her. Yet another person to abandon her.
He followed Ra’s, leaving Gotham behind for a while.