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rosy-cheekx · 3 years

Note

Heard you were looking for prompts :) 1 of 2 - From favorite tropes: Blind date set up by mutual friends! And maybe combined with "I'm speechless you're so beautiful" from the fluff & kisses (and other stuff) prompts. Go wild with it!

This will go to AO3 soon, but it was a lot of fun to write and a nice distraction from any hypothetical realities the TMA fandom may be experiencing.

Double-Blind: 5K

Martin smelled like espresso. He wrinkled his nose and dusted his hands on his apron uselessly, as if doing so would rid himself of the months of coffee, cinnamon, and hazelnut baked into his skin. It wasn’t all that bad, he supposed, except what was the point in using cologne if it was going to be immediately overpowered?

The bell above the door jingled and Martin jumped, pulled from his thoughts on cologne and what he would like to smell like, given the opportunity. Sandalwood, maybe? Tobacco and vanilla? The musky-sweet smells are nice, they have a nice mix of feminine and masculine to them, almost—

“Ahem.” An exaggerated clearing of the throat, once again whisking him from his distractions. Martin locked eyes on the woman across the counter from him, grinning mischievously. “Welcome back to Earth, Martin.”

“Oh! Oh. It’s just you. Hi, Georgie.” Georgie Barker, a regular customer, moderately well-known podcast host, and most importantly, one of Martin’s favorite people to see at the tiny coffee shop he spent more time in than his own flat.

“Just me? Excuse me.” Georgie pouted and crossed her arms, coily hair bouncing around her face as she shook her head. “I’ll have you know you should be grateful to see me this fine afternoon, Martin Koffee Blackwood!”

Martin grinned and dropped the act. “I always am, Georgie. But I told you, there’s not a—”

“Like I said, you should be happy to see me.” Georgie barreled on. “I have good news.” She cocked her head and pondered the chalk-covered board behind the counter. “Two chai lattes, please. And make one of them extra spicy?”

Martin rang up the order and passed two cups down to Rosie, all the while checking the door surreptitiously, ensuring a little chat wouldn’t hold anyone up. “Okay? Spill.”

Georgie’s phone was in her hand, and she waved it at Martin like it contained the secrets of the universe. “D’you remember my roommate, Melanie?”

Martin nodded, pursing his lips. “Vaguely. I thought you guys were dating.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate.

Georgie waved a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Not the point. Anyways, she has a friend of a friend-“ Georgie frowned for a moment, “…of a friend who is looking to get back into dating. Mel says he’s short and nerdy and prickly until you get to know him. Apparently a real pain to work with according to the friend.” Georgie smirked and pulled a sticky note from her back pocket. “Thought maybe you’d want his number.”

Martin grimaced at the blue piece of paper as she smoothed it to the counter with a firm motion. “Wow, George. Really selling it.” It was his fault; they had bonded over being queer back in July when Martin had worn his gay and trans pride buttons and Georgie was proudly sporting her own pansexual patch firmly affixed to her laptop case. One lunch break discussing quirky exes later, their friendship had been sealed. Mentioning offhandedly that he was on dating apps and hating every minute of it seemed to have rooted itself in Georgie’s mind and had grown like weeds until she had taken it upon herself to become his personal wing woman.

“Do you even know his name?” Martin asked, regarding the string of numbers on the piece of paper in front of him.

Georgie blushed, shrugging apologetically. “Friend of a friend of a friend. Sorry mate. Melanie said he likes cats, documentaries, and-” she made air quotes with her fingers, “-being uptight.”

“Wow.” Martin chuckled in disbelief. “Really selling it here.”

Rosie sidled by Martin and set down Georgie’s lattes, who shrugged and picked them up after dropping a few coins in the tip jar. “You have his number. Just think about it, Blackwood. Melanie’s friend doesn’t spread the word about someone unless they’re something special.” She blew a kiss (clumsily, considering the cups requiring the attention of each of her hands) and made her way to the door.

“I just want you to be happy!” She called out as the January winds pulled her out the door and into the grey afternoon.

Martin chewed on his lip as he considered. January was always a tough month for him, and he had been feeling a little lonely recently. He really didn’t see anyone besides his coworkers, customers, and his mother. As much as he enjoyed his job, he wouldn’t call anyone there a romantic interest. He folded the sticky note and stuck it in his pocket as his next customer approached the counter. He did like cats, after all. Maybe that would be a good starting conversation.

Jonathan Sims groaned and shifted the stack of books in his hand as he inspected the knee-high table that was buried amongst the fiction books. He hated working the children’s section of the library. Although no food or drink was allowed, there always seemed to be crumbs everywhere. He was starting to wonder if children just manifested them. He made a mental note to come back with disinfectant wipes after putting the stack of child-suitable biographies away and turned, nearly walking straight into the chest of one Timothy Stoker.

“A-ah!” Jon jumped instinctively backward, clutching the books closer to his chest in an attempt to keep from dropping them. “Tim! Good lord, there’s really no need to be sneaking up on me like that.”

Tim grinned wryly and shrugged, taking half of the books from Jon’s arms. “Sorry boss, thought you heard me.” He gestured for Jon to lead the way through the half-sized bookshelves; an unnecessary act seeing as Tim worked the children’s library much more frequently than Jon did.

“I’m not your-” Jon sighed, deciding this wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on today. He made his way through the shelves, sliding books into their correct placements with practiced hands. “Do you need something?”

“Actually,” Tim checked a Dewey code and slid a book into a shelf a few rows down. “I don’t. But you do.”

Jon stared blankly, uncomprehending. Tim chuckled and gestured with a cock of his head towards the research section. “Melanie said she has a friend who has a friend she wants to set up on a date. And while normally, I’d jump at the chance-” he waved his left hand, the silver ring inset with tiny diamonds flashing in the fluorescents, “I’ve been wifed up and I don’t think my dear Sash would appreciate my going on a blind date with a stranger.”

Jon frowned, setting his stack of books down and eyeing Tim. “What, so I have to?”

Tim shook his head, a patient smile on his face. “No, no one is forcing you. I just think—well. It’s been a while since your last relationship and you’ve been a little…testy, recently.” The look on Tim’s face dared Jon to contradict. “Melanie says he’s apparently a really good guy, very kind and sweet and patient. I think his name is Melvin? I kinda tuned out after she wrote down the number she got from her friend.”

Jon scoffed, pushing his glasses up his face as if that would help him comprehend the absolute ridiculousness of what Tim was saying. “Y-You want me to go on a date with this guy, Melvin? Because I’ve been…grumpy? That doesn’t seem very kind to this mysterious date.”

Tim pursed his lips. “I just think you could benefit from seeing someone who doesn’t work here. I mean, we love you Jon, but god, you need to get a social life. I’m practically begging you.” Tim’s purse elongated into a pout, eyes going big and starry. Jon inwardly groaned. Tim was his oldest friend here at the library and he really never learned how to resist that face. Maybe he should ask Sasha.

“One date,” Jon promised. “I’ll do one date. And then you never set me up again.”

Tim grabbed the rest of the books Jon had set down and added them to his stack before whisking himself away down the aisles. “If we’re lucky, I’ll never have to!” He called down the aisles, grinning madly. Jon sighed and grabbed a small pink sticky note that had been stuck to the countertop, running his eyes over the numbers before slipping it into his pocket. He’ll call later.

Martin stared resolutely at the numbers on the blue sticky note, running his thumb over the curled edge of the paper, slightly stained from some sort of milk during the shift. Even his apron pockets weren’t foolproof. The underground was busy and he was jammed between an older woman who smelled weirdly like salmon and a man who seemed utterly too well-dressed to be on the tube. Elbows crammed into his side to keep from nudging anyone, he pulled out his phone and stared at the messaging app for what felt like several minutes. He typed the numbers into the message bar and watched his cursor blip in the body of the message.

Hey whats up?

No, that would be so weird.

Hiya, this is martin!

Georgie never said the man’s name, would this mysterious date know his?

Hey I think the alphabet is missing I and U together.

Gross. Just gross. Martin grimaced inwardly and chewed on his lip, thinking carefully before typing.

Hi! My name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, I get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

As he finished typing, he heard the familiar robotic voice of the tube announcing his stop. Quickly, Martin shoved the phone in his pocket and carefully forced his way through the crowd and onto the platform, mind cast to what he had accessible for dinner.

----

It took Jon a few days, until Saturday, to remember to call the phone number they had been given. They could text, they supposed, but they always appreciated hearing someone’s intonation a little better. Especially a stranger, ugh, they shuddered at the idea of not being able to decipher the tone of this Melvin. It was half-past 11 when they decided to call, hoping this would be late enough in the morning to not wake him up.

The phone rang momentarily before a surprisingly feminine voice answered the phone. “Hello. This is Rosie. You’ve reached Swirl Café and Bakery.”

Well shit. This was not what Jon expected. They stumbled over their rehearsed speech, trying to scramble words together in a way that made sense. “Uh-sorry, I must have the wrong number. I-I was trying to speak to Melvin?”

“Mmm, sorry. No Melvin works here. We have a Martin, but he’s off the clock. Would you like to speak to our manager?” Rosie’s voice was clipped and courteous, but Jon could hear the bustle of voices in the background. It must be their weekend rush.

“Ah-uh, no, no thank you.” Jon shook their head into the phone, before remembering that did not translate aurally. “It’s alright. Thank you anyways.”

“Sorry, mate. Thanks for calling!” The dial tone droned on for a moment before Jon hung up, sighing and pressing the heels of their hands into their eyes. That was a waste. Melanie must have been playing them; Jon knew they generally didn’t get along, but they didn’t realize she would stoop so low. Honestly, shame on themself for getting excited about a date.

Later that evening, Jon was cooking and listening to music through the speaker that balanced precariously on a shelf next to their stove. The music was low, with a variety of orchestral instruments and sultry, smooth voices. Jon’s eyes were half closed as they stirred the curry in the pan in front of them, letting the music and heat of the kitchen entangle them in a sleepy feeling relaxing their whole body. As the cello in the song dipped low and resonant, Jon stood still, letting the music sweep them away—

They jumped as the ringer alerted them through the speaker that they had received a text, glaringly electronic compared to the rich notes of cello and viola that had been so rudely interrupted. Sleepy feeling gone as adrenaline washed through their body, Jon sighed and retrieved their phone, checking for the message.

An unknown number flicked across the screen:

Hi! my name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, i get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

i meant to send this a few days ago but I never hit send. sorry ab that! rosie said someone called the café asking ab me and i assumed that was you bc i wasnt expecting anyone else and no one involved in the blind date thing ever asked for my mobile number.

if it wasn’t you, oops! either way it reminded me that i had never texted you. :)

Jon squinted at the screen as they read the messages a few times over. That was…a lot of words. So his name was Martin. It was certainly nicer than Melvin. Jon agonized over their words as they typed out a response.

Hello Martin. That was me who called the café…I hope it didn’t cause problems for you. Blind dates aren’t usually my thing, but my coworkers think I need to get out more. I’d be happy to meet you for dinner or coffee. Even if we don’t get along, we can say we’ve done it.

Unless, of course, you’re rather sick of coffee. I prefer tea anyways.

…not “done it” done it. Just. Had the blind date.

Jon winced at their follow up texts. God, that was embarrassing. Martin probably didn’t even take it that way until they bothered to clarify. They shook their head, warding away the growing anxiety in their chest and tucked their phone in their pocket as they turned their attention back to the simmering curry. Jon had embarrassed themselves enough for one night.

----

Martin chuckled at the texts that came through; one slow and the two follow-ups rapid. He could feel the awkwardness through the messages, desperately trying to give a good impression. He chuckled to himself as he set down his dinner plate.

dinner sounds perfect. but same about the tea! and about the coworkers tbh, my friends think im making friends with the espresso machine. which, i am, but only bc its good company haha.

btw i never got your name?

Martin’s phone was silent the rest of the night, as he plodded his way through a mediocre dinner and shower before settling into his armchair, desperate to work on his poetry. Words came slowly to him recently, thoughts about the world and darkness and the intersection of fall and winter. He really should up and move to somewhere warmer, he thought to himself, before laughing the notion away aloud. Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the poetry prompts book he had found at the charity shop. “Use noncolor words to describe a color.” Great. Martin settled back and tried to focus, but kept finding himself checking his phone impulsively, the foamed latte art he’d photographed, one of a cat he was particularly proud of, stared back at him judgmentally.

As he drew his evening to a close, Martin almost missed the buzz of his phone, now plugged in by his bed, as he brushed his teeth.

Congrats on the espresso machine. And my name is Jon. Anywhere you want to go for dinner?

________________________________________________________________

Jon hesitated, thumb hovering over the icon that would open a video chat with Tim. He didn’t want to come off nervous, but… he was.

Texting had been going well. Martin was good at keeping the conversation going and genuinely seemed to enjoy the long texts Jon had sent regarding his irritations with the research he was conducting as a part of his master’s in literature, asking him questions about details Jon had added for context. Martin was easy to talk to, too, he always seemed to have an opinion on subjects but always ones Jon was happy to hear, even if he was objectively wrong about spiders and oolong tea. Martin had sent an awkward text, letting Jon know he was trans and that if that was a dealbreaker he should tell him now, one Jon had blushed over and responded that he was nonbinary himself, and that it certainly wasn’t. The “okay fantastic! :))) remind me of your pronouns? he/him for me.” that followed it up had made Jon’s heart sing.

They had agreed to meet at an Italian place, equidistant between their flats and not too fancy. Martin had commented about getting ice cream after, but Jon wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, since it had also been a jab about Jon’s preference for rum raisin. Thus, he was staring at his wardrobe, paralyzed with indecision. Tim had offered to help, which Jon had initially rejected since he’s “not a child Tim, I’ve dated before. And I know how to dress myself.” But lord if he wasn’t wishing for someone to lay out his clothes and tell him to behave. He grimaced and jabbed the video chat button, bracing for the onslaught of teasing to come.

----

Martin adjusted his collar for what must have been the twelfth time, sucking on his lip as he waited at the reserved table. He hadn’t been there long, no more than five minutes, but his anxiety had been building up all day and a part of him was absolutely certain Jon wasn’t going to come. Neither of them knew what the other looked like; what if Jon saw him and had dipped out immediately? He was wearing mint green, as he had promised, so Jon would recognize him, and brought a bouquet of daisies, mostly because it felt weird not to bring anything, but he didn’t want to be too romantic. Not roses or anything. Besides, Jon said he liked daisies, said they reminded him of an old friend. Martin hoped it wasn’t too weird. He brushed his auburn curls out of the way of his eyes, part of him regretting not having gotten a haircut first, but he tucked those thoughts aside as he surveyed the restaurant from his vantage point.

He blinked in confusion as he watched long curls make their way towards him. Dark black hair, streaked with white, half bunned up in the back and rest left to hang loose, skimming purple-covered elbows. Martin wasn’t sure if they were wearing flowy grey pants or a skirt, but either way, the faint black pattern to them was stunning and Martin couldn’t help but watch the swoosh of the hemlines. As the person got closer, Martin realized they were tiny, stylized eyes.

“Ah-you’re Martin, right?” It took Martin a second to realize this absolutely beautiful person was talking to him.

“hmm—Oh! Yes! You must be Jon.” Martin stood, unsure whether he should shake Jon’s hand or hug him or? But Jon solved the problem himself by sitting, and so Martin did as well. “It’s nice to finally meet you…in person, that is,” he added, grinning shyly. “You look lovely, by the way.”

Jon blushed. “Ah, thank you. Y-You too. O-or handsome, whichever you prefer.” He sipped his water and fidgeted with his hands, eyes flicking around the room nervously before coming around to rest on Martin.

Martin shrugged. “A compliment is a compliment, they all work. Speaking of—what pronouns are you feeling today? I remember you saying it varies.”

Jon shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to pitch a fit either way, but ‘he’ is just fine.” It was nice to be asked. The library respected his pronouns, of course, but something about Martin going out of his way to make sure he was on the same page was… It made Jon’s heart thud deep in his chest.

They made small talk about the travel, the weather, Italian food preferences until the waiter came and relieved the tension. Martin felt his shoulders relax after they both ordered; it felt more real somehow.

“So,” Martin asked, sipping his water demurely, a smile tinged on his lips. “Melvin, huh?”

Jon choked on air for a moment. His mouth gaped open and shut again and Martin couldn’t help the grin overtook him. Jon’s embarrassment was sweet; his cheeks flushed and he bowed his head slightly. It was a lovely look on him. “For the record, that’s what I was told by my coworker, Tim.” Jon made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Melvin or something.’ Who was I to question your name?”

“Right, and I’m glad you respect names ‘n’ all. But Melvin?” Martin chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not the decimal system guy.”

“Nn-mmm,” Jon shook his head, nose wrinkled in a way Martin found particularly cute. “That’s Melville. Melville Dewey.” Jon emphasized, back straightening. “Distinctly different. I’m a librarian, actually.”

“Oh!” Martin blinked. “That makes sense. You work with Melanie, then, I assume?”

Jon grimaced again. “Unfortunately.”

“She’s not that bad!” Martin insisted. “I’ve met her once or twice and she’s been very polite.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “For someone who’s getting a degree in parapsychology, she seems very judgmental.”

“Oh? And what are you studying again?”

“English Lit-hey!”

Martin grinned behind his glass of water. “Just saying, I haven’t met an English Lit student who wasn’t obscenely pretentious.”

Jon faltered for a second and slumped his shoulders in defeat, though his voice still seemed to carry humor, albeit dry. “Unfortunately, I am no exception.”

“Well, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Dinner arrived smoothly, shrimp scampi for Jon and eggplant parmesan for Martin. They ate slowly, chatting more about Jon’s graduate degree, Martin’s affinity for fiction and poetry, and their shared interest in tea.

“So, are you vegetarian?” Jon gestured to the eggplant on Martin’s plate. Martin wobbled his head slightly, not quite a negatory shake of the head.

“It’s complicated. My mother has—had—a sensitive stomach so we didn’t eat meat growing up. I think that turned me off the taste. And there’s something about the texture,” he shuddered. “Weirds me out.”

Jon’s eyes were sharp, boring holes into Martin’s in a way he should have found alarming, but instead found soothing. “Mine, too.” His tone—softer, almost reverent, clued Martin in: he wasn’t talking about being vegetarian.

Martin nodded, and gently placed a hand on Jon’s, the one that hovered near his drinking glass. “I’m sorry.”

They were quiet for a moment, Jon’s hand was small and warm under his, and Martin could feel a thin silver bracelet clinging to his wrist. Martin was amazed by how perfectly his fingers rested over Jon’s, how nice it must feel to hold hands with him on a walk or side by side against the world. Jon cleared his throat suddenly and reached for his glass, gulping down water while staring steadfastly at his plate.

Martin felt his own blush rise through his cheeks and pushed a stray noodle around his plate. “So, here’s a question,” he began, eager to clear the tension. “You said earlier your friend Tim gave you the number to Swirl, right? I don’t know a Tim. So how did he know me?”

Jon frowned, cocking his head. “Technically, I got the number from Tim but that was via Melanie. She said her roommate was friends with…well, friends with you.”

“Mmhmm, that makes sense. I know Georgie from the coffee shop.” He was about to continue when he saw absolutely paralyzed look on Jon’s face. “You…you alright?”

Jon was stock still, pausing the forkful of shrimp that was en route to his mouth. “Sorry, Melanie’s roommate is Georgie?”

Martin nodded slowly. “Yeah, Georgie Barker, that podcaster. She gets her an extra-spicy chai latte from Swirl most days and that’s about the most I know of the relationship. Why, you know her?”

Jon put the fork down, shrimp forgotten, and sighed, running his thumbs along the bridge of his nose, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses up to his eyebrows. “Y-yes, she’s kind of…my ex.”

It was Martin’s turn to freeze. “Sorry?”

“Mmm, yeah, we decided we were better as friends. It was back in Oxford. But I don’t exactly see her often much anymore.” Jon winced at his own words, as if he knew how bad they sounded.

Martin sat back in disbelief, chuckling to himself. “Y’know, she said you were a ‘friend of a friend of a friend.’ D’you think she even knew it was you?”

Jon cocked his head in thought. “I guess not. I mean, I think the whole library staff has been gunning for me to relieve some tension. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been looking for a blind date for me for months now.”

Martin grinned, eyes sparkling. “Well, no matter. It was lucky for me.” Lucky again, was Martin, when he was rewarded with Jon’s warm blush.

----

The bill had been a painful affair, with both Jon and Martin vying for the privilege of paying. Martin struck a deal: he’d pay for the dinner, and Jon would pay for ice cream. Jon knew the differences would widely outweigh when it came to cost but he relented, and the self-satisfied smirk that blossomed over Jon’s face was payment enough.

Martin pointed out the ice cream parlor was a few blocks away and, though it was January, they decided to walk. The fresh snow on the ground glinted against the orange street lamps, and Jon laughed under his breath at the way Martin took great care to step on any unusually large clumps of snow, like he had a personal vendetta. When Jon’s chuckle had made it past the scarf he had wound round his neck and mouth, Martin had glanced over, embarrassed.

“I like the sound of it,” he mumbled, suddenly very meek for a man his stature. It was, regretfully, endearing. Martin was tall, but he was big too, and it was obvious underneath the layer of soft cashmere and chub, there was rigid muscle, and beneath that still, a gentle heart. Jon was struck by him, in more ways he had prepared himself for, and it felt second nature to slide his gloved hand into Martin’s and give it a solid squeeze of acknowledgement.

“Do you think it’s too cold to get ice cream?” Jon asked, watching a cloud of breath float by his lips.

Martin shrugged. “Technically? Yes. But who’s going to tell on us?” Jon swung their entwined hands a little. “Unless…you don’t want to?” Martin added, eyes locking on Jon’s before his head followed.

Jon shook his head. “No, I want to. I believe we have a debt to settle and I have a personal score involving rum raisin.” Martin beamed, clearly pleased, and Jon was certain the snow around him melted right off with the warmth of his smile. Jon leant into Martin’s side a little, and they continued in silence until they reached the ice cream parlor, the entrance to which glowed with pink and white LEDs.

Jon smugly ordered a scoop of rum raisin and was delighted to find Martin “didn’t hate it,” though he insisted his mint chip was better. That was genuinely the best Jon could hope for; not even Georgie in all her unusual tastes enjoyed his rum raisin sensibility. “My grandmother loved it when I was a kid,” he explained between bites, stirring the ice cream with his spoon. “It was the only flavor she kept around the house.”

“Not even vanilla?” Martin gasped in mock disbelief. “Any sensible person would say you’ve been tricked into enjoying it.” Jon chuckled and elbowed Martin mildly.

Jon found himself lingering over the bowl, realizing that the end of their dessert meant an end to the date. Martin seemed to be acting similarly, putting his spoon down between bites and taking more and more thoughtful swallows between their bouts of conversation.

“You-you took the tube here, right?” Jon asked, setting his finally-empty bowl off to the side. At Martin’s confirmation, Jon clenched his fist below the table. “Do you want to walk to the station together?”

Martin’s eyes lit up, nodding eagerly. “I had meant to ask, actually! I wanted to make sure you got there safe.” Jon winced at the blush that overtook his cheeks, though it was easy to blame it on the chill of the ice cream and the frigid night.

The walk to the tube was longer and the pair, heavily sated by pasta and dairy, were quiet, making soft comments about the snow or the odd remaining Christmas decorations, hands clasped tightly and shoulders pressing into the other. The fluorescents of the underground shone brightly, normally a beacon calling travelers home in the night, but to Jon it felt like a dreadful curse. He truly hadn’t expected to enjoy his evening with Martin so much, but they had just clicked. It felt like a shame to let it go.

Swiping their cards, Jon and Martin passed through their respective turnstiles and stood at the bisecting tunnels through which the various lines waited to take them home. They faced each other in silence, hands still interlocked, unsure of how to begin.

“If you’d like to,” Jon murmured, eyes shifting focus to Martin’s curls, plastered to his forehead from the snow; his collar, peeking through his coat; the way the shell of his ear seemed to have a nick missing (was it from a childhood accident? Just the way it was grown?). “I’d like to go out again.”

Martin squeezed Jon’s hand, and Jon’s eyes flitted back to Martin’s own; they were grey-blue and reminded Jon of his childhood sea. “Mmhmm, yeah.” Martin rolled his eyes at his own words and tried again. “Yes, Jon, I’d love that.” Martin moved to hug Jon, a gesture Jon eagerly accepted, relishing the warm arms encircling him and the feel of Martin’s chin resting on the crown of his head. As they pulled away, Martin’s eyes flitted across Jon’s face and the hand around his back moved, cautiously, to rest on the side of Jon’s neck.

“I…I don’t want to presume,” Martin said quietly, and Jon was distinctly aware of how empty, how big, the station was. “Is it okay if I kiss your cheek?”

Jon blinked rapidly, nodding wordlessly, before clearing his throat. “Ah, um, yes. Please.”

Martin’s smile was soft as he pressed his lips to the apex of Jon’s cheekbone, almost into his hairline. Jon was sure the blush that rose across his face this time certainly couldn’t be explained away by the snow, but he honestly wasn’t really sure he cared.

#tma #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fanfic #fanfic to a tea #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jmart #jonmartin #georgie barker #rosie zampano #tma rosie #tim stoker #meet cute #blind date au #this is my love letter to TMA #prompt answer #fanfic prompt

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the-hunchback-of-notre-dame · 3 years

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‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame’ at 25: An Oral History of Disney’s Darkest Animated Classic

Posted on Slashfilm on Monday, June 21st, 2021 by Josh Spiegel

“This Is Going to Change Your Life”

The future directors of The Hunchback of Notre Dame were riding high from the success of Beauty and the Beast. Or, at least, they were happy to be finished.

Gary Trousdale, director: After Beauty and the Beast, I was exhausted. Plus, Kirk and I were not entirely trusted at first, because we were novices. I was looking forward to going back to drawing.

Kirk Wise, director: It was this crazy, wonderful roller-coaster ride. I had all this vacation time and I took a couple months off.

Gary Trousdale: A little later, it was suggested: “If you want to get back into directing, start looking for a project. You can’t sit around doing nothing.”

Kirk Wise: [Songwriters] Lynn Ahrens and Stephen Flaherty had a pitch called Song of the Sea, a loose retelling of the Orpheus myth with humpback whales. I thought it was very strong.

Gary Trousdale: We were a few months in, and there was artwork and a rough draft. There were a couple tentative songs, and we were getting a head of steam.

Kirk Wise: The phone rang. It was Jeffrey [Katzenberg, then-chairman of Walt Disney Studios], saying, “Drop everything. I got your next picture: The Hunchback of Notre Dame.”

Gary Trousdale: “I’ve already got Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz. You’re going to do this.” It wasn’t like we were given a choice. It was, “Here’s the project. You’re on.”

Kirk Wise: I was pleased that [Jeffrey] was so excited about it. I think the success of Beauty and the Beast had a lot to do with him pushing it our way. It would’ve been crazy to say no.

Gary Trousdale: What [Kirk and I] didn’t know is that Alan and Stephen were being used as bait for us. And Jeffrey was playing us as bait for Alan and Stephen.

Alan Menken, composer: Jeffrey made reference to it being Michael Eisner’s passion project, which implied he was less enthused about it as a story source for an animated picture.

Stephen Schwartz, lyricist: They had two ideas. One was an adaptation of Hunchback and the other was about whales. We chose Hunchback. I’d seen the [Charles Laughton] movie. Then I read the novel and really liked it.

Peter Schneider, president of Disney Feature Animation (1985-99): I think what attracted Stephen was the darkness. One’s lust for something and one’s power and vengeance, and this poor, helpless fellow, Quasimodo.

Roy Conli, co-producer: I was working at the Mark Taper Forum in Los Angeles, doing new play development. I was asked if I’d thought about producing animation. I said, “Yeah, sure.”

Don Hahn, producer: The goose had laid lots of golden eggs. The studio was trying to create two units so they could have multiple films come out. Roy was tasked with something hard, to build a crew out of whole cloth.

Kirk Wise: The idea appealed to me because [of] the setting and main character. I worked with an elder story man, Joe Grant, [who] goes back to Snow White. He said, “Some of the best animation ideas are about a little guy with a big problem.” Hunchback fit that bill.

Gary Trousdale: It’s a story I always liked. When Jeffrey said, “This is going to change your life,” Kirk and I said, “Cool.” When I was a kid, I [had an] Aurora Monster Model of Quasimodo lashed to the wheel. I thought, “He’s not a monster.”

Don Hahn: It’s a great piece of literature and it had a lot of elements I liked. The underdog hero. [He] was not a handsome prince. I loved the potential.

Gary Trousdale: We thought, “What are we going to do to make this dark piece of literature into a Disney cartoon without screwing it up?”

Peter Schneider: The subject matter is very difficult. The conflict was how far to go with it or not go with it. This is basically [about] a pederast who says “Fuck me or you’ll die.” Right?

“We Were Able to Take More Chances”

Wise and Trousdale recruited a group of disparate artists from the States and beyond to bring the story of Quasimodo the bell-ringer to animated life.

Paul Brizzi, sequence director: We were freshly arrived from Paris.

Gaëtan Brizzi, sequence director: [The filmmakers] were looking for a great dramatic prologue, and they couldn’t figure [it] out. Paul and I spent the better part of the night conceiving this prologue. They said, “You have to storyboard it. We love it.”

Roy Conli: We had two amazing artists in Paul and Gaëtan Brizzi who became spiritual leaders in the production. They were so incredible.

Gaëtan Brizzi: [“The Bells of Notre Dame”] was not supposed to be a song first.

Paul Brizzi: The prologue was traditional in the Disney way. Gaëtan and I were thinking of German expressionism to emphasize the drama. I’m not sure we could do that today.

Paul Kandel, voice of Clopin: They were toying with Clopin being the narrator. So they wrote “The Bells of Notre Dame” to open the movie.

Stephen Schwartz: [Alan and I] got called into a presentation, and on all these boards [was] laid out “The Bells of Notre Dame.” We musicalized the story they put up there. We used the pieces of dialogue they invented for Frollo and the other characters. I wrote lyrics that described the narrative. It was very exciting. I had never written a song like that.

Kirk Wise: Early on, we [took] a research trip with the core creative team to Paris. We spent two weeks all over Notre Dame. They gave us unrestricted access, going down into the catacombs. That was a huge inspiration.

Don Hahn: To crawl up in the bell towers and imagine Quasimodo there, to see the bells and the timbers, the scale of it all is unbelievable.

Kirk Wise: One morning, I was listening to this pipe organ in this shadowy cathedral, with light filtering through the stained-glass windows. The sound was so powerful, I could feel it thudding in my chest. I thought, “This is what the movie needs to feel like.”

Brenda Chapman, story: It was fun to sit in a room and draw and think up stuff. I liked the idea of this lonely character up in a bell tower and how we could portray his imagination.

Kathy Zielinski, supervising animator, Frollo: It was the earliest I’ve ever started on a production. I was doing character designs for months. I did a lot of design work for the gargoyles, as a springboard for the other supervisors.

James Baxter, supervising animator, Quasimodo: Kirk and Gary said, “We’d like you to do Quasimodo.” [I thought] that would be such a cool, amazing thing to do. They wanted this innocent vibe to him. Part of the design process was getting that part of his character to read.

Will Finn, head of story/supervising animator, Laverne: Kirk and Gary wanted me on the project. Kirk, Gary, and Don Hahn gave me opportunities no one else would have, and I am forever grateful.

Kathy Zielinski: I spent several months doing 50 or 60 designs [for Frollo]. I looked at villainous actors. Actually, one was Peter Schneider. [laughing] Not to say he’s a villain, but a lot of the mannerisms and poses. “Oh, that looks a little like Peter.”

James Baxter: I was doing design work on the characters with Tony Fucile, the animator on Esmerelda. I think Kirk and Gary felt Beauty and the Beast had been disparate and the characters weren’t as unified as they wanted.

Kathy Zielinski: Frollo stemmed from Hans Conried [the voice of Disney’s Captain Hook]. He had a longish nose and a very stern-looking face. Frollo was modeled a little bit after him.

Will Finn: The team they put together was a powerhouse group – Brenda Chapman, Kevin Harkey, Ed Gombert, and veterans like Burny Mattinson and Vance Gerry. I felt funny being their “supervisor.”

Kathy Zielinski: Half my crew was in France, eight hours ahead. We were able to do phone calls. But because of the time difference, our end of the day was their beginning of the morning. I was working a lot of late hours, because [Frollo] was challenging to draw.

Kirk Wise: Our secret weapon was James Baxter, who animated the ballroom sequence [in Beauty and the Beast] on his own. He had a unique gift of rotating characters in three-dimensional space perfectly.

Gary Trousdale: James Baxter is, to my mind, one of the greatest living animators in the world.

James Baxter: I’ve always enjoyed doing things that were quite elaborate in terms of camera movement and three-dimensional space. I’m a glutton for punishment, because those shots are very hard to do.

Gary Trousdale: In the scene with Quasimodo carrying Esmeralda over his shoulder, climbing up the cathedral, he looks back under his arms, snarling at the crowd below. James called that his King Kong moment.

As production continued, Roy Conli’s position shifted, as Don Hahn joined the project, and Jeffrey Katzenberg left Disney in heated fashion in 1994.

Roy Conli: Jeffrey was going to create his own animation studio. Peter Schneider was interested in maintaining a relationship with Don Hahn. We were into animation, ahead of schedule. They asked Don if he would produce and if I would run the studio in Paris.

Don Hahn: Roy hadn’t done an animated film before. I was able to be a more senior presence. I’d worked with Kirk and Gary before, which I enjoy. They’re unsung heroes of these movies.

Kirk Wise: The [production] pace was more leisurely. As leisurely as these things can be. We had more breathing room to develop the storyboards and the script and the songs.

Gary Trousdale: Jeffrey never liked characters to have facial hair. No beards, no mustaches, nothing. There’s original designs of Gaston [with] a little Errol Flynn mustache. Jeffrey hated it. “I don’t want any facial hair.” Once he left, we were like, “We could give [Phoebus] a beard now.”

Kirk Wise: The ballroom sequence [in Beauty] gave us confidence to incorporate more computer graphics into Hunchback. We [had] to create the illusion of a throng of thousands of cheering people. To do it by hand would have been prohibitive, and look cheap.

Stephen Schwartz: Michael Eisner started being more hands-on. Michael was annoyed at me for a while, because when Jeffrey left, I accepted the job of doing the score for Prince of Egypt. I got fired from Mulan because of it. But once he fired me, Michael couldn’t have been a more supportive, positive colleague on Hunchback.

Kirk Wise: [The executives] were distracted. We were able to take more chances than we would have under the circumstances that we made Beauty and the Beast.

Don Hahn: Hunchback was in a league of its own, feeling like we [could] step out and take some creative risks. We could have done princess movies forever, and been reasonably successful. Our long-term survival relied on trying those risks.

One sticking point revolved around Notre Dame’s gargoyles, three of whom interact with Quasimodo, but feel more lighthearted than the rest of the dark story.

Gary Trousdale: In the book and several of the movies, Quasimodo talks to the gargoyles. We thought, “This is Disney, we’re doing a cartoon. The gargoyles can talk back.” One thing led to another and we’ve got “A Guy Like You.”

Kirk Wise: “A Guy Like You” was literally created so we could lighten the mood so the audience wasn’t sitting in this trough of despair for so long.

Stephen Schwartz: Out of context, the number is pretty good. I think I wrote some funny lyrics. But ultimately it was a step too far tonally for the movie and it has been dropped from the stage version.

Gary Trousdale: People have been asking for a long time: are they real? Are they part of Quasimodo’s personality? There were discussions that maybe Quasimodo is schizophrenic. We never definitively answered it, and can argue convincingly both ways.

Jason Alexander, voice of Hugo: I wouldn’t dream of interfering with anyone’s choice on that. It’s ambiguous for a reason and part of that reason is the viewers’ participation in the answer. Whatever you believe about it, I’m going to say you’re right.

Brenda Chapman: I left before they landed on how [to play] the gargoyles. My concern was, what are the rules? Are they real? Are they in his imagination? What can they do? Can they do stuff or is it all Quasi? I looked at it a little askance in the finished film. I wasn’t sure if I liked how it ended up…[Laverne] with the boa on the piano.

Kirk Wise: There was a component of the audience that felt the gargoyles were incompatible with Hunchback. But all of Disney’s movies, including the darkest ones, have comic-relief characters. And Disney was the last person to treat the written word as gospel.

“A Fantastic Opportunity”

After a successful collaboration on Pocahontas, Menken and Schwartz worked on turning Victor Hugo’s tragic story into a musical.

Alan Menken: The world of the story was very appealing, and it had so much social relevance and cultural nuance.

Stephen Schwartz: The story lent itself quite well to musicalization because of the extremity of the characters and the emotions. There was a lot to sing about. There was a great milieu.

Alan Menken: To embed the liturgy of the Catholic Church into a piece of music that’s operatic and also classical and pop-oriented enriches it in a very original way. Stephen was amazing. He would take the theme from the story and specifically set it in Latin to that music.

Stephen Schwartz: The fact that we were doing a piece set in a church allowed us to use all those elements of the Catholic mass, and for Alan to do all that wonderful choral music.

Alan Menken: The first creative impulse was “Out There.” I’m a craftsman. I’m working towards a specific assignment, but that was a rare instance where that piece of music existed.

Stephen Schwartz: I would come in with a title, maybe a couple of lines for Alan to be inspired by. We would talk about the whole unit, its job from a storytelling point of view. He would write some music. I could say, “I liked that. Let’s follow that.” He’d push a button and there would be a sloppy printout, enough that I could play it as I was starting the lyrics.

Roy Conli: Stephen’s lyrics are absolutely phenomenal. With that as a guiding light, we were in really good shape.

Stephen Schwartz: Alan played [the “Out There” theme] for me, and I really liked it. I asked for one change in the original chorus. Other than that, the music was exactly as he gave it to me.

Gary Trousdale: Talking with these guys about music is always intimidating. There was one [lyric] Don and I both questioned in “Out There,” when Frollo is singing, “Why invite their calumny and consternation?” Don and I went, “Calumny?” Kirk said, “Nope, it’s OK, I saw it in an X-Men comic book.” I went, “All right! It’s in a comic book! It’s good.”

Stephen Schwartz: Disney made it possible for me to get into Notre Dame before it opened to the public. I’d climb up the steps to the bell tower. I’d sit there with my yellow pad and pencil. I’d have the tune for “Out There” in my head, and I would look out at Paris, and be Quasimodo. By the time we left Paris, the song was written.

Kirk Wise: Stephen’s lyrics are really smart and literate. I don’t think the comical stuff was necessarily [his] strongest area. But this movie was a perfect fit, because the power of the emotions were so strong. Stephen just has a natural ability to connect with that.

Will Finn: The directors wanted a funny song for the gargoyles and Stephen was not eager to write it. He came to me and Irene Mecchi and asked us to help him think of comedy ideas for “A Guy Like You,” and we pitched a bunch of gags.

Jason Alexander: Singing with an orchestra the likes of which Alan and Stephen and Disney can assemble is nirvana. It’s electrifying and gives you the boost to sing over and over. Fortunately, everyone was open to discovery. I love nuance and intention in interpretation. I was given wonderful freedom to find both.

Stephen Schwartz: “Topsy Turvy,” it’s one of those numbers of musical theater where you can accomplish an enormous amount of storytelling. If you didn’t have that, you’d feel you were drowning in exposition. When you put it in the context of the celebration of the Feast of Fools, you could get a lot of work done.

Paul Kandel: The first time I sang [“Topsy Turvy”] through, I got a little applause from the orchestra. That was a very nice thing to happen and calm me down a little bit.

Brenda Chapman: Poor Kevin Harkey must’ve worked on “Topsy Turvy” for over a year. Just hearing [singing] “Topsy turvy!” I thought, “I would shoot myself.” It’s a fun song, but to listen to that, that many times. I don’t know if he ever got to work on anything else.

Paul Kandel: There were places where I thought the music was squarer than it needed to be. I wanted to round it out because Clopin is unpredictable. Is he good? Is he bad? That’s what I was trying to edge in there.

Kirk Wise: “God Help the Outcasts” made Jeffrey restless. I think he wanted “Memory” from Cats. Alan and Stephen wrote “Someday.” Jeffrey said, “This is good, but it needs to be bigger!” Alan was sitting at his piano bench, and Jeffrey was next to him. Jeffrey said, “When I want it bigger, I’ll nudge you.” Alan started playing and Jeffrey was jabbing him in the ribs. “Bigger, bigger!”

Don Hahn: In terms of what told the story better, one song was poetic, but the other was specific. “Outcasts” was very specific about Quasimodo. “Someday” was “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

Kirk Wise: When Don watched the movie, he said, “It’s working pretty well. But ‘Someday,’ I don’t know. It feels like she’s yelling at God.” We played “God Help the Outcasts” for him and Don said, “Oh, this is perfect.” That song is the signature of the entire movie.

Don Hahn: “Someday” was lovely. But I had come off of working with Howard Ashman, and I felt, “This doesn’t move the plot forward much, does it?” We ended up with “Someday” as an end-credits song, which was fortunate. ‘Cause they’re both good songs.

Kirk Wise: It was all about what conveys the emotion of the scene and the central theme of the movie best. “God Help the Outcasts” did that.

Everyone agrees on one point.

Stephen Schwartz: Hunchback is Alan’s best score. And that’s saying a lot, because he’s written a whole bunch of really good ones.

Gary Trousdale: With Hunchback, there were a couple of people that said, “This is why I chose music as a career.” Alan and Stephen’s songs are so amazing, so that’s really something.

Paul Kandel: It has a beautiful score.

Jason Alexander: It has the singularly most sophisticated score of most of the animated films of that era.

Roy Conli: The score of Hunchback is one of the greatest we’ve done.

Don Hahn: This is Alan’s most brilliant score. The amount of gravitas Alan put in the score is amazing.

Alan Menken: It’s the most ambitious score I’ve ever written. It has emotional depth. It’s a different assignment. And it was the project where awards stopped happening. It’s almost like, “OK, now you’ve gone too far.”

Stephen Schwartz: It’s astonishing that Alan has won about 173 Academy Awards, and the one score he did not win for is his best score.

The film featured marquee performers singing covers of “God Help the Outcasts” and “Someday”. But one of the most famous performers ever nearly brought those songs to life.

Alan Menken: I met Michael Jackson when we were looking for someone to sing “A Whole New World” for Aladdin. Michael wanted to co-write the song. I could get a sense of who Michael was. He was a very unique, interesting individual…in his own world.

I get a call out of nowhere from Michael’s assistant, when Michael was at the Four Seasons Hotel in New York. He had to [deal with] allegations about inappropriate behavior with underage kids, and the breakup with Lisa Marie Presley. He’s looking to change the subject. And he obviously loves Disney so much. So I mentioned Hunchback. He said he’d love to come to my studio, watch the movie and talk about it. So we got in touch with Disney Animation. They said, “Meet with him! If he likes it…well, see what he says.” [laughing]

There’s three songs. One was “Out There,” one was “God Help the Outcasts,” one was “Someday.” Michael said, “I would like to produce the songs and record some of them.” Wow. Okay. What do we do now? Michael left. We got in touch with Disney. It was like somebody dropped a hot poker into a fragile bowl with explosives. “Uh, we’ll get back to you about that.”

Finally, predictably, the word came back, “Disney doesn’t want to do this with Michael Jackson.” I go, “OK, could someone tell him this?” You can hear a pin drop, no response, and nobody did [tell him]. It fell to my late manager, Scott Shukat, to tell Michael or Michael’s attorney.

In retrospect, it was the right decision. [But] Quasimodo is a character…if you look at his relationships with his family and his father, I would think there’s a lot of identification there.

“They’re Never Going to Do This Kind of Character Again”

The film is known for the way it grapples with the hypocrisy and lust typified by the villainous Judge Frollo, whose terrifying song “Hellfire” remains a high point of Disney animation.

Gary Trousdale: Somebody asked me recently: “How the hell did you get ‘Hellfire’ past Disney?” It’s a good question.

Alan Menken: When Stephen and I wrote “Hellfire,” I was so excited by what we accomplished. It really raised the bar for Disney animation. It raised the bar for Stephen’s and my collaboration.

Stephen Schwartz: I thought the would never let me get away with [“Hellfire”]. And they never asked for a single change.

Alan Menken: Lust and religious conflict. Now more than ever, these are very thorny issues to put in front of the Disney audience. We wanted to go at it as truthfully as possible.

Stephen Schwartz: When Alan and I tackled “Hellfire,” I did what I usually did: write what I thought it should be and assume that [Disney would] tell me what I couldn’t get away with. But they accepted exactly what we wrote.

Don Hahn: Every good song score needs a villain’s moment. Stephen and Alan approached it with “Hellfire.”

Alan Menken: It was very clear, we’d thrown the gauntlet pretty far. It was also clear within our creative team that everybody was excited about going there.

Don Hahn: You use all the tools in your toolkit, and one of the most powerful ones was Alan and Stephen. Stephen can be dark, but he’s also very funny. He’s brilliant.

Gary Trousdale: The [MPAA] said, “When Frollo says ‘This burning desire is turning me to sin,’ we don’t like the word ‘sin.’” We can’t change the lyrics now. It’s all recorded. Kinda tough. “What if we just dip the volume of the word ‘sin’ and increase the sound effects?” They said, “Good.”

Stephen Schwartz: It’s one of the most admirable things [laughs] I have ever seen Disney Animation do. It was very supportive and adventurous, which is a spirit that…let’s just say, I don’t think [the company would] make this movie today.

Don Hahn: It’s funny. Violence is far more accepted than sex in a family movie. You can go see a Star Wars movie and the body count’s pretty huge, but there’s rarely any sexual innuendo.

Kathy Zielinski: I got to watch [Tony Jay] record “Hellfire” with another actor. I was sweating watching him record, because it was unbelievably intense. Afterwards, he asked me, “Did you learn anything from my performance?” I said, “Yeah, I never want to be a singer.” [laughing]

Paul Kandel: Tony Jay knocked that out of the park. He [was] an incredible guy. Very sweet. He was terrified to record “Hellfire.” He was at a couple of my sessions. He went, “Oh my God, what’s going to happen when it’s my turn? I don’t sing. I’m not a singer. I never pretended to be a singer.” I said, “Look, I’m not a singer. I’m an actor who figured out that they could hold a tune.”

Kathy Zielinski: I listened to Tony sing “Hellfire” tons. I knew I had gone too far when, one morning, we were sitting at the breakfast table and my daughter, who was two or three at the time, started singing the song and doing the mannerisms. [laughs]

Don Hahn: We didn’t literally want to show [Frollo’s lust]. It turns into a Fantasia sequence, almost. A lot of the imagery is something you could see coming out of Frollo’s imagination. It’s very impressionistic. It does stretch the boundaries of what had been done before at Disney.

Kirk Wise: We stylized it like “Night on Bald Mountain.” The best of Walt’s films balanced very dark and light elements. Instead of making it explicit, we tried to make it more visual and use symbolic imagery.

Gaëtan Brizzi: We were totally free. We could show symbolically how sick Frollo is between his hate and his carnal desire.

Kathy Zielinski: The storyboards had a tremendous influence. Everybody was incredibly admiring of the work that [Paul and Gaëtan] had done.

Don Hahn: They brought the storyboarded sequence to life in a way that is exactly what the movie looks like. The strength of it is that we didn’t have to show anything as much as we did suggest things to the audience. Give the audience credit for filling in the blanks.

Gary Trousdale: It was absolutely gorgeous. Their draftsmanship and their cinematography. They are the top. They pitched it with a cassette recording of Stephen singing “Hellfire”, and we were all in the story room watching it, going “Oh shit!”

Paul Brizzi: When Frollo is at the fireplace with Esmeralda’s scarf, his face is hypnotized. From the smoke, there’s the silhouette of Esmeralda coming to him. She’s naked in our drawings.

Gary Trousdale: We joked, maybe because they’re French, Esmeralda was in the nude when she was in the fire. Roy Disney put his foot down and said, “That’s not going to happen.” Chris Jenkins, the head of effects, and I went over every drawing to make sure she was appropriately attired. That was the one concession we made to the studio.

Gaëtan Brizzi: It’s the role of storyboard artists to go far, and then you scale it down. Her body was meant to be suggestive. It was more poetic than provocative.

Brenda Chapman: I thought what the Brizzis did with “Hellfire” was just stunning.

Roy Conli: We make films for people from four to 104, and we’re trying to ensure that the thematic material engages adults and engages children. We had a lot of conversations on “Hellfire,” [which] was groundbreaking. You saw the torment, but you didn’t necessarily, if you were a kid, read it as sexual. And if you were an adult, you picked it up pretty well.

Will Finn: “Hellfire” was uncomfortable to watch with a family audience. I’m not a prude, but what are small kids to make of such a scene?

Kathy Zielinski: When I was working on “Hellfire,” I thought, “Wow. They’re never going to do this kind of character again.” And I’m pretty much right.

“Straight for the Heart”

“Hellfire” may be the apex of the maturity of The Hunchback of Notre Dame, but the entire film is the most complex and adult Disney animated feature of the modern era.

Gary Trousdale: We went straight for the heart and then pulled back.

Kirk Wise: I was comfortable with moments of broad comedy contrasted with moments that were dark or scary or violent. All of the Disney movies did that, particularly in Walt’s time.

Don Hahn: A lot of it is gut level, where [the story group would] sit around and talk to ourselves and pitch it to executives. But Walt Disney’s original animated films were really dark. We wanted to create something that had the impact of what animation can do.

Will Finn: Eisner insisted we follow the book to the letter, but he said the villain could not be a priest, and we had to have a happy ending. The book is an epic tragedy – everybody dies!

Kathy Zielinski: It’s a little scary that I felt comfortable with [Frollo]. [laughing] I don’t know what that means. Maybe I need to go to therapy. I’ve always had a desire to do villains. I just love evil.

Don Hahn: Kathy Zielinski is brilliant. She works on The Simpsons now, which is hilarious. She’s very intense, very aware of what [Frollo] had to do.

One specific choice in the relationship between Frollo and Esmeralda caused problems.

Stephen Schwartz: I remember there was great controversy over Frollo sniffing Esmeralda’s hair.

Kirk Wise: The scene that caused the most consternation was in the cathedral where Frollo grabs Esmeralda, whispers in her ear and sniffs her hair. The sniffing made people ask, “Is this too far?” We got a lot of support from Peter Schneider, Tom Schumacher, and Michael Eisner.

Kathy Zielinski: Brenda Chapman came up with that idea and the storyboard. I animated it. It’s interesting, because two females were responsible for that. That scene was problematic, so they had to cut it down. It used to be a lot longer.

Brenda Chapman: I know I’m probably pushing it too far, but let’s give it a go, you know?

Kirk Wise: We agreed it was going to be a matter of execution and our collective gut would tell us whether we were crossing the line. We learned that the difference between a G and PG is the loudness of a sniff. Ultimately, that’s what it came down to.

Brenda Chapman: I never knew that! [laughing]

Don Hahn: Is it rated G? That’s surprising.

Gary Trousdale: I’m sure there was backroom bargaining done that Kirk and I didn’t know about.

Don Hahn: It’s negotiation. The same was true of The Lion King. We had intensity notes on the fight at the end. You either say, we’re going to live with that and it’s PG, or we’re not and it’s G.

Brenda Chapman: I heard stories of little kids going, “Ewww, he’s rubbing his boogers in her hair!” [laughing] If that’s what they want to think, that’s fine. But there are plenty of adults that went, “Whoa!”

Don Hahn: You make the movies for yourselves, [but] we all have families, and you try to make something that’s appropriate for that audience. So we made some changes. Frollo isn’t a member of the clergy to take out any politicizing.

Gaëtan Brizzi: We developed the idea of Frollo’s racism against the gypsies. To feel that he desires Esmeralda and he wants to kill her. It was ambiguity that was interesting to develop. In the storyboards, Paul made [Frollo] handsome with a big jaw, a guy with class. They said he was too handsome. We had to break that formula.

Stephen Schwartz: I [and others] said, “It doesn’t make any sense for him to not be the Archdeacon, because what’s he doing with Quasimodo? What possible relationship could they have?” Which is what led to the backstory that became “The Bells of Notre Dame.”

Don Hahn: The things Frollo represents are alive and well in the world. Bigotry and prejudice are human traits and always have been. One of his traits was lust. How do you portray that in a Disney movie? We tried to portray that in a way that might be over kids’ heads and may not give them nightmares necessarily, but it’s not going to pull its punches. So it was a fine line.

Stephen Schwartz: Hugo’s novel is not critical of the church the way a lot of French literature is. It creates this character of Frollo, who’s a deeply hypocritical person and tormented by his hypocrisy.

Peter Schneider: I am going to be controversial. I think it failed. The fundamental basis is problematic, if you’re going to try and do a Disney movie. In [light of] the #MeToo movement, you couldn’t still do the movie and try what we tried to do. As much as we tried to soften it, you couldn’t get away from the fundamental darkness.

Don Hahn: Yeah, that sounds like Peter. He’s always the contrarian.

Peter Schneider: I’m not sure we should have made the movie, in retrospect. I mean, it did well, Kirk and Gary did a beautiful job. The voices are beautiful. The songs are lovely, but I’m not sure we should have made the movie.

Gaëtan Brizzi: The hardest part was to stick to the commercial side of the movie…to make sure we were still addressing kids.

Kirk Wise: We knew it was going to be a challenge to honor the source material while delivering a movie that would fit comfortably on the shelf with the other Disney musicals. We embraced it.

Roy Conli: I don’t think it was too mature. I do find it at times slightly provocative, but not in a judgmental or negative way. I stand by the film 100 percent in sending a message of hope.

Peter Schneider: It never settled its tone. If you look at the gargoyles and bringing in Jason Alexander to try and give comedy to this rather bleak story of a judge keeping a deformed young man in the tower…there’s so many icky factors for a Disney movie.

Jason Alexander: Some children might be frightened by Quasi’s look or not be able to understand the complexity. But what we see is an honest, innocent and capable underdog confront his obstacles and naysayers and emerge triumphant, seen and accepted. I think young people rally to those stories. They can handle the fearsome and celebrate the good.

Brenda Chapman: There was a scene where Frollo was locking Quasimodo in the tower, and Quasi was quite upset. I had to pull back from how cruel Frollo was in that moment, if I’m remembering correctly. I wanted to make him a very human monster, which can be scarier than a real monster.

Roy Conli: We walked such a tight line and we were on the edge and the fact that Disney allowed us to be on the edge was a huge tribute to them.

“Hear the Voice”

The story was set, the songs were ready. All that was left was getting a cast together to bring the characters’ voices to life.

Jason Alexander: Disney, Alan Menken, Stephen Schwartz, Victor Hugo – you had me at hello.

Paul Kandel: I was in Tommy, on Broadway. I was also a Tony nominee. So I had those prerequisites. Then I got a call from my agent that Jeffrey Katzenberg decided he wanted a star. I was out of a job I already had. I said, “I want to go back in and audition again.” I wanted to let them choose between me and whoever had a name that would help sell the film. So that series of auditions went on and I got the job back.

Kirk Wise: Everybody auditioned, with the exception of Kevin Kline and Demi Moore. We went to them with an offer. But we had a few people come in for Quasimodo, including Meat Loaf.

Will Finn: Katzenberg saw Meat Loaf and Cher playing Quasimodo and Esmeralda – more of a rock opera. He also wanted Leno, Letterman, and Arsenio as the gargoyles at one point.

Kirk Wise: Meat Loaf sat with Alan and rehearsed the song. It was very different than what we ended up with, because Meat Loaf has a very distinct sound. Ultimately, I think his record company and Disney couldn’t play nice together, and the deal fell apart.

Gary Trousdale: We all had the drawings of the characters we were currently casting for in front of us. Instead of watching the actor, we’d be looking down at the piece of paper, trying to hear that voice come out of the drawing. And it was, we learned, a little disconcerting for some of the actors and actresses, who would put on hair and makeup and clothes and they’ve got their body language and expressions. We just want to hear the voice.

Kirk Wise: We cast Cyndi Lauper as one of the gargoyles. We thought she was hilarious and sweet. The little fat obnoxious gargoyle had a different name, and was going to be played by Sam McMurray. We had Cyndi and Sam record, and Roy Disney hated it. The quality of Cyndi’s voice and Sam’s voice were extremely grating to his ear. This is no disrespect to them – Cyndi Lauper is amazing. And Sam McMurray is very funny. But it was not working for the people in the room on that day.

Jason Alexander: The authors cast you for a reason – they think they’ve heard a voice in you that fits their character. I always try to look at the image of the character – his shape, his size, his energy and start to allow sounds, pitches, vocal tics to emerge. Then everyone kicks that around, nudging here, tweaking there and within a few minutes you have the approach to the vocalization. It’s not usually a long process, but it is fun.

Kirk Wise: We decided to reconceive the gargoyles. We always knew we wanted three of them. We wanted a Laurel and Hardy pair. The third gargoyle, the female gargoyle, was up in the air. I think it was Will Finn who said, “Why don’t we make her older?” As the wisdom-keeper. That led us to Mary Wickes, who was absolutely terrific. We thoroughly enjoyed working with Mary, and 98% of the dialogue is her. But she sadly passed away before we were finished.

Will Finn: We brought in a ton of voice-over actresses and none sounded like Mary. One night, I woke up thinking about Jane Withers, who had been a character actress in the golden age of Hollywood. She had a similar twang in her voice, and very luckily, she was alive and well.

Kirk Wise: Our first session with Kevin Kline went OK, but something was missing. It just didn’t feel like there was enough of a twinkle in his voice. Roy Conli said, “Guys, he’s an actor. Give him a prop.” For the next session, the supervising animator for Phoebus brought in a medieval broadsword. Before the session started, we said “Kevin, we’ve got a present for you.” We brought out this sword, and he lit up like a kid at Christmas. He would gesture with it and lean on it. Roy found the key there.

Gary Trousdale: Kevin Kline is naturally funny, so we may have [written] some funnier lines for him. When he’s sparring with Esmeralda in the cathedral and he gets hit by the goat. “I didn’t know you had a kid,” which is the worst line ever. But he pulls it off. He had good comic timing.

Kirk Wise: Tom Hulce had a terrific body of work, including Amadeus. But the performance that stuck with me was in Dominic and Eugene. There was a sensitivity and emotional reality to that performance that made us lean in and think he might make a good Quasimodo.

Gary Trousdale: [His voice] had a nice mix of youthful and adult. He had a maturity, but he had an innocence as well. We’re picturing Quasimodo as a guy who’s basically an innocent. It was a quality of his voice that we could hear.

Don Hahn: He’s one of those actors who could perform and act while he sang. Solo songs, especially for Quasimodo, are monologues set to music. So you’re looking for someone who can portray all the emotion of the scene. It’s about performance and storytelling, and creating a character while you’re singing. That’s why Tom rose to the top.

Stephen Schwartz: I thought Tom did great. I had known Tom a little bit beforehand, as an actor in New York. I’d seen him do Equus and I was sort of surprised. I just knew him as an actor in straight plays. I didn’t know that he sang at all, and then it turned out that he really sang.

Paul Kandel: [Tom] didn’t think of himself as a singer. He’s an actor who can sing. “Out There,” his big number – whether he’s going to admit it to you or not – that was scary for him. But a beautiful job.

Brenda Chapman: Quasimodo was the key to make it family-friendly. Tom Hulce did such a great job making him appealing.

Kirk Wise: Gary came back with the audiotape of Tom’s first session. And his first appearance with the little bird, where he asks if the bird is ready to fly…that whole scene was his rehearsal tape. His instincts were so good. He just nailed it. I think he was surprised that we went with that take. It was the least overworked and the most spontaneous, and felt emotionally real to us.

Kathy Zielinski: Early on, they wanted Anthony Hopkins to do the voice [of Frollo]. [We] did an animation test with a line of his from Silence of the Lambs.

Kirk Wise: We were thinking of Hannibal Lecter in the earliest iterations of Frollo. They made an offer, but Hopkins passed. We came full circle to Tony, because it had been such a good experience working with him on Beauty and the Beast. It was the combination of the quality of his voice, the familiarity of working with him, and knowing how professional and sharp he was.

Though the role of Quasimodo went to Tom Hulce (who did not respond to multiple requests for comment), there was one audition those involved haven’t forgotten.

Kirk Wise: We had a few people come in for Quasimodo, including Mandy Patinkin.

Stephen Schwartz: That was a difficult day. [laughing]

Kirk Wise: Mandy informed Alan and Stephen that he brought his own accompanist, which was unexpected because we had one in the room. He had taken a few liberties with [“Out There”]. He had done a little rearranging. You could see Alan’s and Stephen’s spines stiffen. It was not the feel that Alan and Stephen were going for. Stephen pretty much said so in the room. I think his words were a little sharper and more pointed than mine.

Stephen Schwartz: I’ve never worked with Mandy Patinkin. But I admired Evita and Sunday in the Park with George. He came in to audition for Quasimodo. When I came in, Ben Vereen was sitting in the hallway. Ben is a friend of mine and kind of a giant star. I felt we should be polite in terms of bringing him in relatively close to the time for which he was called.

Mandy took a long time with his audition, and asked to do it over and over again. If you’re Mandy Patinkin, you should have enough time scheduled to feel you were able to show what you wanted to show. However, that amount of time was not scheduled. At a certain point, I became a bit agitated because I knew Ben was sitting there, cooling his heels. I remember asking [to] move along or something. That created a huge contretemps.

Kirk Wise: Gary and I stepped outside to work on a dialogue scene with Mandy. As we were explaining the scene and our take on the character, Mandy threw up his hands and said, “Guys, I’m really sorry. I can’t do this.” He turned on his heel and went into the rehearsal hall and shut the door. We started hearing an intense argument. He basically went in and read Alan and Stephen the riot act. The door opens, smoke issuing from the crater that he left inside. Mandy storms out, and he’s gone. We step back in the room, asking, “What the hell happened?”

Gary Trousdale: I did a drawing of it afterwards. The Patinkin Incident.

Stephen Schwartz: Battleship Patinkin!

“Join the Party”

The darkness in the film made it difficult to market. Even some involved acknowledged the issue. In the run-up to release, Jason Alexander said to Entertainment Weekly, “Disney would have us believe this movie’s like the Ringling Bros., for children of all ages. But I won’t be taking my 4-year old. I wouldn’t expose him to it, not for another year.”

Alan Menken: There was all the outrage about Jason Alexander referring to it as a dark story that’s not for kids. Probably Disney wasn’t happy he said that.

Jason Alexander: Most Disney animated films are entertaining and engaging for any child with an attention span. All of them have elements that are frightening. But people are abused in Hunchback. These are people, not cute animals. Some children could be overwhelmed by some of it at a very young age. My son at the time could not tolerate any sense of dread in movies so it would have been hard for him. However, that is certainly not all children.

Don Hahn: I don’t think Jason was wrong. People have to decide for themselves. It probably wasn’t a movie for four-year olds. You as a parent know your kid better than I do.

If everyone agrees the score is excellent, they also agree on something that was not.

Alan Menken: God knows we couldn’t control how Disney marketing dealt with the movie, which was a parade with Quasimodo on everybody’s shoulders going, “Join the party.” [laughing]

Roy Conli: I always thought “Animation comes of age” would be a great [tagline]. I think the marketing ended up, “Join the party.”

Brenda Chapman: Marketing had it as this big party. And then you get into the story and there’s all this darkness. I think audiences were not expecting that, if they didn’t know the original story.

Kathy Zielinski: It was a hard movie for Disney to merchandise and sell to the public.

Gaëtan Brizzi: People must have been totally surprised by the dramatic sequences. The advertising was not reflecting what the movie was about.

Stephen Schwartz: To this day, they just don’t know how to market “Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame.” I understand what their quandary is. They have developed a brand that says, “If you see the word Disney on something, it means you can take your 6-year old.” You probably shouldn’t even take your 8-year old, unless he or she is very mature, to Hunchback.

Alan Menken: We [Disney] had such a run of successful projects. It was inevitable there was going to be a time where people said, “I’ve seen all those, but what else is out there?” I had that experience sitting at a diner with my family, overhearing a family talk about Hunchback and say, “Oh yeah, we saw Beauty and Aladdin, but this one…let’s see something else.”

Stephen Schwartz: I did have a sense that some in the critical community didn’t know how to reconcile animation and an adult approach. They have the same attitude some critics have about musicals. “It’s fine if it’s tap-dancing and about silly subjects. But if it’s something that has intellectual import, you can’t do that.” Obviously we have Hamilton and Sweeney Todd and Wicked. Over the years, that’s changed to some extent, but not for everybody.

Roy Conli: Every film is not a Lion King. [But] if that story has legs and will touch people, then you’ve succeeded.

Kirk Wise: We were a little disappointed in its initial weekend. It didn’t do as well as we hoped. We were also disappointed in the critical reaction. It was well-reviewed, but more mixed. Roger Ebert loved us. The New York Times hated us! I felt whipsawed. It was the same critic [Janet Maslin] who praised Beauty and the Beast to the high heavens. She utterly shat on Hunchback.

Don Hahn: We had really good previews, but we also knew it was out of the box creatively. We were also worried about the French and we were worried about the handicapped community and those were the two communities that supported the movie the most.

Will Finn: I knew we were in trouble when the first trailers played and audiences laughed at Quasimodo singing “Out There” on the roof.

Kirk Wise: All of us were proud of the movie on an artistic level. In terms of animation and backgrounds and music and the use of the camera and the performances. It’s the entire studio operating at its peak level of performance, as far as I’m concerned.

Gary Trousdale: I didn’t think people were going to have such a negative reaction to the gargoyles. They’re a little silly. And they do undercut the gravity. But speaking with friends who were kids at the time, they have nothing but fond memories. There were adults, high school age and older when they saw it, they were turned off. We thought it was going to do really great. We thought, “We’re topping ourselves.” It’s a sophisticated story and the music is amazing.

Kirk Wise: The 2D animated movies used to be released before Christmas [or] Thanksgiving. The Lion King changed that. Now everything was a summer release. I always questioned the wisdom of releasing Hunchback in the summertime, in competition with other blockbusters.

Paul Kandel: It made $300 million and it cost $80 million to make. So they were not hurting as far as profits were concerned. But I thought it was groundbreaking in so many ways that I was surprised at the mixed reviews.

Kirk Wise: By most measures, it was a hit. I think The Lion King spoiled everybody, because [it] was such a phenomenon, a bolt from the blue, not-to-be-repeated kind of event.

Gary Trousdale: We were getting mixed reviews. Some of them were really good. “This is a stunning masterpiece.” And other people were saying, “This is a travesty.” And the box office was coming in, not as well as hoped.

Don Hahn: I was in Argentina doing South American press. I got a call from Peter Schneider, who said, “It’s performing OK, but it’s probably going to hit 100 million.” Which, for any other moviemaker, would be a goldmine. But we’d been used to huge successes. I was disappointed.

Peter Schneider: I think it was a hit, right? It just wasn’t the same. As they say in the theater, you don’t set out to make a failure.

Don Hahn: If you’re the New York Yankees, and you’ve had a winning season where you could not lose, and then people hit standup singles instead of home runs…that’s OK. But it has this aura of disappointment. That’s the feeling that’s awful to have, because it’s selfish. Animation is an art, and the arts are meant to be without a price tag hanging off of them all the time.

Paul Brizzi: We are still grateful to Kirk and Gary and Don. We worked on [Hunchback] for maybe a year or a year and a half. Every sequence, we did with passion.

Gaëtan Brizzi: Our work on Hunchback was a triumph of our career.

Kathy Zielinski: There are certainly a whole crowd of people who wish we had not [done] the comedy, because that wasn’t faithful. That’s the main complaint I heard – we should’ve gone for this total dramatic piece and not worried about the kiddies.

Gaetan Brizzi: The only concern we had was the lack of homogeneity. The drama was really strong, and the [comedy] was sometimes a little bit goofy. It was a paradox. When you go from “Hellfire” to a big joke, the transition was not working well. Otherwise, we were very proud.

James Baxter: We were happy with what we did, but we understood it was going to be a slightly harder sell. The Hunchback of Notre Dame usually doesn’t engender connotations like, “Oh, that’s going to be a Disney classic.” I was very happy that it did as well as it did.

Jason Alexander: I thought it was even more mature and emotional on screen. It was an exciting maturation of what a Disney animated feature could be. I was impressed and touched.

“An Undersung Hero”

25 years later, The Hunchback of Notre Dame endures. The animated film inspired an even darker stage show that played both domestically and overseas, and in recent years, there have been rumors that Josh Gad would star as Quasimodo in a live-action remake.

Alan Menken: I think it’s a project that with every passing year will more and more become recognized as a really important part of my career.

Stephen Schwartz: This will be immodest, but I think it’s a really fine adaptation. I think it’s the best musical adaptation of the Victor Hugo novel, and there have been a lot. I think the music is just unbelievably good. I think, as a lyricist, I was working at pretty much the top of my form. I have so many people telling me it’s their favorite Disney film.

Alan Menken: During the pandemic, there was this hundred-piece choir doing “The Bells of Notre Dame.” People are picking up on it. It’s the combination of the storytelling and how well the score is constructed that gets it to longevity. If something is good enough, it gets found.

Paul Kandel: I think people were more sensitive. There was an expectation that a new Disney animated film would not push boundaries at all, which it did. For critics, it pushed a little too hard and I don’t think they would think that now. It’s a work of art.

Gaëtan Brizzi: Hunchback is poetic, because of its dark romanticism. We have tons of animated movies, but I think they all look alike because of the computer technique. This movie is very important in making people understand that hate has no place in our society, between a culture or people or a country. That’s the message of the movie, and of Victor Hugo himself.

Jason Alexander: I think it’s an undersung hero. It’s one of the most beautiful and moving animated films. But it is not the title that lives on everyone’s tongue. I think more people haven’t seen this one than any of the others. I adore it.

Peter Schneider: What Disney did around this period [is] we stopped making musicals. I think that was probably a mistake on some level, but the animators were bored with it.

Don Hahn: You know people reacted to Beauty and the Beast or The Lion King. They were successful movies in their day. You don’t know the reaction to anything else. So when [I] go to Comic-Con or do press on other movies, people started talking about Hunchback. “My favorite Alan Menken score is Hunchback.” It’s always surprising and delightful.

Kirk Wise: I’ve had so many people come up to me and say, “This is my absolute favorite movie. I adored this movie as a kid. I wore out my VHS.” That makes all the difference in the world.

Paul Kandel: Sitting on my desk right now are four long letters and requests for autographs. I get 20 of those a week. People are still seeing that film and being moved by it.

Alan Menken: Now there’s a discussion about a live-action film with Hunchback. And that’s [sighs] exciting and problematic. We have to, once again, wade into the troubled waters of “What is Disney’s movie version of Hunchback?” Especially now.

Jason Alexander: Live action could work because the vast majority of characters are human. The story of an actual human who is in some ways less abled and who is defined by how he looks, rather than his heart and character, is timely and important, to say the least.

Kirk Wise: I imagine if there were a live-action adaptation, it would skew more towards the stage version. That’s just my guess.

Stephen Schwartz: I think it would lend itself extremely well to a live-action movie, particularly if they use the stage show as the basis. I think the stage show is fantastic.

Kirk Wise: It’s gratifying to be involved in movies like Beauty and the Beast and Hunchback that have created so much affection. But animation is as legitimate a form of storytelling as live-action is. It might be different, but I don’t think it’s better. I feel like [saying], “Just put on the old one. It’s still good!”

Gary Trousdale: There were enough versions before. Somebody wants to make another version? Okay. Most people can tell the difference between the animated version and a live-action reboot. Mostly I’m not a fan of those. But if that’s what Disney wants to do, great.

Don Hahn: It’s very visual. It’s got huge potential because of its setting and the drama, and the music. It’s pretty powerful, so it makes sense to remake that movie. I think we will someday.

Brenda Chapman: It’s a history lesson. Now that Notre Dame is in such dire straits, after having burned so badly, hopefully [this] will increase interest in all that history.

James Baxter: It meant two children. I met my wife on that movie. [laughs] In a wider sense, the legacy is another step of broadening the scope of what Disney feature animation could be.

Kirk Wise: Hunchback is the movie where the final product turned out closest to the original vision. There was such terrific passion by the crew that carried throughout the process.

Roy Conli: It’s one of the most beautiful films we’ve made. 25 years later, I’d say “Join the party.” [laughs]

#long post behind read more #the hunchback of notre dame #hunchback of notre dame #notre dame de paris #victor hugo #interviews #disney #alan menken #stephen schwartz #quasimodo #esmeralda #frollo #phoebus #movies #movie history

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"....So I Married A Monster" *Chapter 3*

So I gave you a LITTLE lovin' at the end, give me a break. I'm loving all the angsty comments I'm getting. Really gives me a rush relishing in your pain. MWAHAAHAHAHAHA. I'm kidding I love you all please don't leave me.

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Tag List

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@chasingeverybreakingwave

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@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

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@stars-in-the-skies-world

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@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

@mrsrafaelbarba

@word-scribbless

@storiesofsvu @believinghurts

-------

The next morning

As soon as you dropped Kylie at daycare and Maggie at school, you headed to work. You worked as an executive at an advertising company, so it gave you a lot of freedom to work from home. Really helped the whole "single mom" thing.

But today you had to go into the office for a meeting, and you were dreading it. The one day you could really use to yourself, you had to go and be around people, pretending to be okay. This was going to be hell.

During your meeting, you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket. You immediately went for it, thinking maybe by some miracle Rafael had figured out a solution super fast. But to your horror, it was a text from Billy.

LUNCH?

Oh god. He knew didn't he? He knew everything. There was no way in hell he was getting you alone in your house right now. You quickly texted him back discreetly.

I'M AT THE OFFICE TODAY.

*BUZZ*

THAT'S HALFWAY TO THE CITY. COME ON, I PROMISE I'LL HAVE YOU BACK IN TIME TO PICK UP THE GIRLS.

Was he serious? He wanted you to meet him in the City? Closer to Rafael? What kind of game was he playing? Well, at least you'd be in a public place. He couldn't murder you in front of an audience. And he promised you could pick up the girls, surely he was just going to let you leave after lunch. Right? While you were thinking it over, your phone went off again.

MY TREAT

His treat? Well, that would be a first. Sure he took care of them when they were married, but since their divorce he hadn't offered up a penny more than his legally obligated alimony and child support.

"Miss Y/N, do you have somewhere better to be?" Your boss interrupted your thoughts, you noticed that the whole boardroom was staring at you.

"No sir, sorry sir," You shook your head as you typed a quick OK back to Billy before shoving your phone back into your pocket.

-------

After your meeting you headed to the restaurant address Billy texted you. You sat in your Uber running your fingers nervously through your hair and checking your makeup. Though you really weren’t sure why-- Billy wasn’t the cute harmless man you fell in love with anymore, you had to remember that. No matter how much his smile made your knees weak.

You walked into the restaurant to see Billy already at a table. He smiled and waved at you, you walked towards him and joined him.

“Hey, sweetie,” He went for a hug, but you went for the handshake.

“Hey, Billy,” You nodded as you sat down across from him. “So, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” He kept that hundred watt smile focused on you, you felt yourself blush.

“Okay?” You tried to act nonchalant as you picked up a menu and browsed it.

“Yeah, you know after I found out you were with that animal, Barba,” He picked up his own menu and began to peruse it. You were glad he wasn’t looking at you in that moment because as soon as he called Barba the animal as opposed to himself, your fists clenched.

“Oh? Yeah it was no big deal…” You tried to keep your voice calm.

“So what did he say about me?”

“N-Nothing, I kicked him out as soon as I hung up on you, Billy,” You glanced up at him. You weren’t lying, you did kick him out right after you hung up. And it was the biggest mistake in the world.

“Really?” He looked genuinely surprised, but elated. “You just believed me over him, just like that?”

“Well, of course Billy,” You nodded as you put the menu down. “You’re the father of my children, I’ve known you for almost a decade. I...loved you,” You gulped as you sipped the courtesy water. You didn’t know if it was a great idea to toss that in, but you figured you needed to throw him as far off the scent as you could.

“...Loved?” Billy asked curiously.

Shit. Abort Abort.

“I mean, I’ll always care about you Billy,” You put a hand over his, giving him the sweetest smile you could manage.

“And Barba?” He gripped your hand a little tighter. “Do you love him?”

Shit. Alright, stay calm.

“I thought I might,” You nodded sadly. “Before you told me what a...monster, he is,” You hated even saying the words, but he needed to buy what you were selling.

“Oh, honey,” Billy gave you a sympathetic smile. “You know that’s what I’ve always loved about you. Always so trusting, and loyal...those are really great qualities in a woman,”

“...Thank you?” You sounded offended.

“Gosh,” He chuckled. “You know I am starting to forget why we even broke up,”

Oh God.

“B-Because you were always working, and you thought it would be unfair to keep going like we were going on the kids, and me,” You reminded him.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” He half laughed. “Gosh, you know I think I...I really messed that up,”

“...What?” You nearly choked on your drink.

“I think I made a huge mistake, choosing my...work, over you and the girls,” He gave you a genuinely apologetic smile.

“Oh, Billy you--” You tried to dissuade him, but he wasn't having it.

“No, you know what Y/N having the girls this past summer, it reminded me how much they mean to me. How much you, mean to me,” He took your other hand in his so he was holding them both now.

“But you know what? No more. Screw my job, I’m choosing my family this time,” He gave you the most loving smile and look you’d ever seen on him. You were starting to be even more confused than ever.

“...R-Really?” You blinked in disbelief. “You’d just...give up, your...job, for us?”

“Yes, I would babe,” He nodded, rubbing the back of your palms with his thumbs.

Suddenly, you remembered what kind of “job” he actually had. How could you get out of this? What would make sense? Wait, a thought occurred to you.

“...No,” You removed your hands from his.

“....No?” He repeated, his tone shifting. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, I’m not going to let you back into our lives, back into the girl’s lives. Get their hopes up that we can be a happy family again, and then you just take off again when you start itching to get back to work!”

“....Itching?” His nostrils flared. “Is there a reason you used that...specific phrase, Y/N?”

“No, it’s a term, Billy. Look it up,” You were getting more brazen, knowing you had a crowd of eyes around you. He wouldn’t try anything.

“You sure that’s not a certain lawyer talking, sweetheart?” He didn’t let up.

“....How do you know him, anyway Billy?” You suddenly changed the subject.

“Excuse me?” Now it was his turn to blink in disbelief.

“You knew him, when you called me,” You reminded him.

“Well yeah babe, I know he’s a--”

“A monster,” You finished.

“Yeah, I told you--”

“But, how would you know that?” You asked again.

“What?”

“He’s a prosecutor, Billy. You’re a...whatever it is you are,” You crossed your arms. “So how, do you know him?”

“Because….” You saw the wheels turning in Billy’s head. “Because he and the NYPD set me up!”

“They set you up?” You asked curiously.

“Yeah,” He sniffed and rubbed his nose as the waitress came and took your orders. He eyed her nervously as she wrote down your requests and left the table once more.

“You gonna elaborate?”

“Look right before I met you, I was living in the city,” He sighed, starting his story. “And I was on a harmless jog in Central Park, and these tourist girls got spooked and this bitch detective brought me in, started getting her whole squad zoned in on me for some reason, including your man Barba,”

“Just for no reason?” You gave him a look.

“Yes!” He pounded the table, causing some stares. He took a deep breath, and repeated himself. “Yes, babe,”

“Uh huh,” You nodded as the waitress brought your drinks. It was only lunch but you had ordered a martini, you needed it to get through this.

“Look I thought you said you believed me,” Billy’s eyes narrowed. “...Or was that a bunch of bullshit?”

“N-No,” You suddenly sat straight up, remembering you needed to keep up your act.

“I’m just trying to understand the whole situation, baby boy,” You threw your old nickname at him to diffuse the situation.

“Right…” He licked his lips with a smile as the waitress came and sat the food down in front of each of you.

“Anyway, babe they set up this whole thing. They went on a vendetta against me, I swear to God. They-- they started pulling all these records of me from places I lived, trying to pin me to something, anything. And then their Captain…” He stopped and chuckled, but not his normal chuckle. This was more...sinister, darker.

“She just had this...thing, for me,” He smiled as he remembered her, the “Good times” they had. “She begged me to spend this bender weekend with me and when things didn’t go her way, she tried to say I ‘kidnapped’ her, raped her, did all this nasty stuff to her,”

“....Why would she make that up?” You took a bite of your food. He was just spilling all of this information without you even prying, this seemed too easy.

“Because she’s a BITCH, that’s why!” He suddenly yelled again and pounded the table, more people turned to stare this time before he quickly got himself together once more.

“Billy, I’ve never seen you like this,” Your voice shook as you spoke.

“I’m--I’m sorry, Y/N,” He blinked back tears. “They just...they put me through hell,” He began to show you scars on his face and pointed to his ear. “She...when we went on our little bender, she got so hopped on pills and booze that she beat me within an inch of my life,”

Your hand went over your mouth as you saw his injuries for the first time. You put your other hand and traced the scar, tears in your eyes. He couldn’t have just faked those scars, there was no way for him to know you’d start questioning him like you had.

Maybe...maybe he was telling the truth. You had just taken Rafael at his word, and those articles at theirs. Stories could always be spun, and if it made the NYPD look good, that would make the best story, right?

“Billy…” You wiped his cheek with your thumb, tears were spilling down them. “I am so, so sorry…”

“It’s fine,” He sniffed, wiping snot from his nose as he pulled himself together. “I just...I just want to move on,”

“Yeah…” You nodded, patting his cheek gently with a small smile.

“So, will you let me come home?” He asked you with a sad smile.

“I…” You looked down at the table, mulling everything over. You really, really didn’t want to believe Rafael had been the liar here, just covering up for his best friend.

But...Billy seemed genuine, you had known him so much longer than any of them, maybe you knew him better than they did. You knew he was the wrong guy they should have tried to send away, maybe he was just the victim of their dirty captain. But the whole…”job” aspect, you weren’t sure of. You still didn’t know what he did, and why he had been gone all the time. Rafael’s explanation seemed logical.

“...I’ll think about it,” You looked at him with a small smile.

“You’ll think about it?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Billy, you really hurt me,” You felt tears come to your throat. “You have to know that,”

“I know, babe…” He gave you a sad smile back, taking your hands again. “I get it, I have to earn your trust again,”

“Yes,” You nodded, glad he wasn’t going to press it. He nodded and looked at the table for a moment, then looked up at you with that smile of his.

“...You know, if you want the afternoon off honey, I can pick up the girls,” He offered.

“E-Exucse me?”

“You want to go see Barba, don’t you?” He was now smirking. “You want to verify what I’m saying, right?”

“I...um…”

“Go for it darling, that’s how confident I am you’ll make the right decision,” He encouraged you.

“...Right,” You nodded, downing the rest of your martini. “And if I don’t, you’ll have the girls as leverage,”

“Aww now Y/N…” He kept his smirk, it seemed more evil now when you looked at it. “I won’t need leverage, will I?”

“....No,” You gulped. You didn’t entirely trust him now, but you weren’t about to turn down a chance to see Rafael. Besides, if what he said was true, Billy would never harm the girls.

“Good then, so we’ll see you at home?”

“Sounds good,” You nodded as Billy laid down his card on the check. You got up and headed to the door, dialing Rafael’s number. You remembered that he had said not to contact him first, so you thought you’d do him one better.

-------------

Rafael was in his office putting together his opening argument when you knocked on his office door.

“Come in,” He said nonchalantly, thinking it would be his assistant with a memo.

He glanced up from his desk as the door opened and dropped his pen when he saw you. He blinked a few times, making sure he wasn’t hallucinating as he stood up from his chair and approached you slowly.

“....Y/N? What are you--?”

“Shut up,” You cut him off with your words before catching his lips in yours in a hungry, aggressive kiss.

You didn’t care what Billy had said, or what events led up to right now. You just knew at that moment you needed Rafael. And you took him, no regrets. You two spent several seconds just kissing and drinking each other up, hands roaming all over each other’s bodies.

You’d think you two had been separated for months, not barely 24 hours. But you both had been sure it would be ages, maybe ever before you saw each other again, and like you had said before you’d never been out of each other’s lives for more than a day since the day you met. Fine, maybe you were a little overdramatic.

“What are you doing here, tonta?!” He suddenly broke apart from you and chastised you. “I told you, it’s too--”

“Billy sent me,” You simply said, breathless from the kissing.

“...’Billy’, sent you?” His eyes narrowed. “And why exactly did Billy send you?”

“...We need to talk,” You bit your lip nervously. “But...but I just...I just want us to be us, for a little bit longer,”

“...A little bit longer?” Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t like the sound of that one bit.

“Just...please, Rafa?” You begged him, your doe eyes wet with tears. You knew what you were about to have to do, and you just wanted to be happy for a few more minutes.

“...Bueno,” Rafael sighed, before he grabbed you by your waist and carried you over to his couch, before resuming making out with you like two teenagers.

He didn’t like the sound of where this was going, but he knew he wanted to put it off as long as possible. And he had missed you like crazy, even if it had just been 12 hours. He loved you so much, and so fast, it scared him.

You didn't know what you were going to say to Rafael once his tongue was out of your mouth, but right now you didn't care. You just wanted this to go on forever---

And then there was a knock at the door.

#rafael barba #rafael barba angst #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #so i married a monster #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #rafael barba fanfcition #raul esparza #william lewis #william lewis fanfiction #william lewis x you #william lewis x reader

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preciousthingsareprecious · 3 years

Text

That Time Tim Totally Terminated Ra's Al Ghuls Entire Empire Part 1

So. I wrote something very silly. The title says it all, except it doesn't because this bad boy spiraled out to being over 10k and deserving of 2 chapters. Anyway, here is the first chapter featuring all the times Ra's kidnapped Tim because he wanted to recruit him.

Summary:

"Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.” Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

“As you know, I’m always on the lookout for enterprising young individuals with both leadership and fighting experience to join the League of Assassins. Right now I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect person to fill a brand new executive role in a new chapter of my organization.”

AO3 Link

Tim wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up in this situation. No really. One moment he’d been in Gotham, crouched behind an old BMW that had been in the same spot for a month, waiting on Batman’s signal, the next he’d woken up in some lavishly decorated room. Was that silk? Or maybe velvet? He had no idea what was hanging around the bed he was laying in, but Tim really didn’t care.

What he was concerned about was his own personal state. He raised his arms --that alone was a good sign-- and confirmed that his mask was in place. He pushed himself up on the ridiculously plush bed, -which was unreasonably plush by the standards of a kid who'd grown up rich, and then gone to live with a guy who had both more money and even better beds.

The point was, the bed was so soft Tim actually had a bit of trouble sitting up.

When he did manage to right himself, he finished taking stock of his own situation and his surroundings. His Robin uniform was intact aside from his belt, but he saw that set on a trunk that looked at least as old as Bruce, a few feet away. The room was, as he already determined, lavishly decorated.

Tim pushed himself out of the bed and onto a carpet so thick he kind of wanted to pull off his shoes and curl his toes in it, but seeing as he still had no idea where he was, who took him, or why, he figured that was probably out of the question. He did make a mental note to ask Bruce for some better carpet when he got home. As a kind of gift for surviving a very weird kidnapping.

Instead, he moved to walk carefully around the room. He found no obvious traps, no cameras or speakers or microphones that were either hidden or out in the open, and both doors were unlocked.

The first he opened revealed a bathroom. The second he cracked open to peer out of. His eyes locked on that of an honest to goodness ninja standing guard outside the door. The man locked eyes with him and Tim snapped the door shut with a click.

Welp, that answered the who and maybe even the where of Tim’s abduction. Ra’s Al Ghul. He was pretty sure if he gave the ninja ten minutes to go find Mr. al Ghul himself, he’d have the why too.

While he waited, Tim snapped his belt back around his waist, comfortable to have its weight back, even if being in a League stronghold meant all the tricks in his pockets were basically useless on his own. Still, it was nice to feel fully like Robin again.

After that it was a matter of waiting.

Tim paced an actual trench into the thick carpet as he waited. Batman was of course looking for him. That was a given, he just had to wait for the man to find him. Or for Ra’s to send him home? He really wasn’t sure why the Eco-terrorist would have taken him in the first place beyond a really weird obsession with Batman's various sidekicks.

How come all of Bruce’s baddies seemed to have a strange fixation on Robins? It was weird how many went out of their way to kidnap and attempt to recruit him, Dick, and if the stories were to be believed, Jason too.

Just as Tim was starting to turn that particular thought over in his head, the door to his room opened and Ra’s himself strolled in.

“Timothy.” the man drawled.

“Ra’s.” Tim replied, suddenly totally and completely unsure what to do with his hands, voice, feet, and general self. This wasn’t a fight after all.

He settled for crossing his arms and being terribly glad his domino hid his eyes.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here.” Ra’s said.

Tim shrugged, “It doesn’t take the world’s greatest detective to guess that.”

The man frowned at him, and Tim started to wonder if maybe he should be watching his words a bit. He wasn’t in Gotham with Batman at his back after all. But then again, Ra’s must need something from him right? So a little sass was okay, what was Robin without a smart mouth after all?

“I mean--” Tim started, unable to stop himself now that he was thinking about it, “I can probably start to guess. You didn’t kill me and I’m not in a dungeon so you’ve got to want something from me right? I bet this is some blend of trying to win me over and also hold me above Batman because you--” he paused for a moment trying to remember if Bruce had been on Ra’s’ trail at all lately.

He dropped his arms and clapped, remembering, “You’ve been trying to break into energy and you want Wayne Enterprise to back you and legitimize your business. So you’re holding Tim over Bruce, but you probably want Robin because you and like half of Batman’s rogues have this weird obsession with teen heroes for some reason."

At some point he’d stopped looking at Ra’s and actually started pacing again. When he stopped talking his feet stilled and he looked back up at Ra's and grinned, ""So, am I hot or freezing cold?”

He expected Ra's to looked angry or irritated, instead he looked amused.

“You are quite warm. Though I would contend the assertion that I have a weird obsession with teen heroes. I am only interested in the exceptional, and you Timothy, are exceptional indeed.”

Tim gulped, “I mean--not really? But thanks.”

Ra’s waved him off, “We will speak more later. You are correct, I do intend to use you as a bargaining chip against your guardian--”

“Dad.” Tim interjected.

The man raised an eyebrow but continued, “However you are not a prisoner in the traditional sense. You may wander the compound with one of my men by your side to ensure you do not get into trouble. If all goes well you will be returned to Batman within a reasonable amount of time. Unless, of course, you do decide you would like to stay and learn from me.”

“I don’t really see that happening.” Tim said, “But I'll be sure and let you know if I make a sudden turn towards world domination.”

Again, Tim expected some kind of retaliation, but he was thankfully ignored. Ra’s left him with a warning not to cause undue trouble and soon Tim was alone in the room again.

He spent the next couple days wandering the compound somewhat aimlessly. He had a phone call with Bruce where he promised his dad that he was totally fine if a little bored, and spent the rest of his time trying to avoid Ra’s. The man was kind of relentless in his attempts at winning Tim over to his side and sought him out at meals, when Tim was trying to train a bit at one of the many gyms, and even once while Tim was wandering a rather fantastic garden. Each time, Tim did his best to wiggle out of the man's suggestions and just get back to wiling away the time between then and getting home.

Thankfully, it was all over in four days when Batman came crashing in with Nightwing and Batwoman to rescue him, and soon Tim was home and settling back into normal life.

He’d actually almost forgotten about the whole Ra’s kidnapping him until it happened again. Once had been a surprise, two times was starting to look deliberate.

This one lasted a week with Ra’s claiming it was because he still really wanted that energy deal and he just couldn’t understand why Bruce wasn’t willing to trade that for his ward (son Tim had ground out in irritation).

Tim almost believed him, until he woke one morning to find a pamphlet had been slipped under his door, it was literally a flyer promoting hiring in the League. Tim looked over it and had to laugh out loud. The text was done in a mix of papyrus and other fonts and whoever made it had used clip art. It looked like someone had typed it up in Microsoft word in like half an hour.

He spent the rest of his time there re-designing the flyer, with a ninja hanging over his shoulder as he used one of the League computers. The new one wasn’t the best flyer in the world, but Tim was pretty proud of it, and it was much better than the first draft.

When he was done, he pocketed the original, then pinned a note to the new one that said: Ha! Not until you get better designers.

Batman rescued him again, and Tim pushed the double kidnapping and Ra’s’ weird obsession to the back of his mind until the next time he was with Steph.

They were in the manor watching a Chopped marathon and Tim was telling her about both kidnappings.

“So he’s super into energy? How come he didn’t nab Dick? We all know he’s Bruce’s favorite.” Steph teased, popping a chip into her mouth.

“Setting aside that obvious lie, that’s the thing,” Tim continued, digging out the flyer he’d kept, “It has nothing to do with energy or Dick. I’m pretty sure Ra’s is trying to recruit me.”

He showed her the paper and Steph snorted, spraying chips out as she laughed, “No. Freaking. Way. I have to tell Cass. Let me show her this, please I’m begging you.”

Tim groaned, “Yeah, sure, but don’t you think it’s weird?”

She shrugged, taking the flyer to look it over, “Of course, but the B-man attracts weird like ice cream dropped on the ground attracts ants. Give him six months, and Ra’s will move onto a different way of trying to piss off Batman.”

“I hope so.” Tim said.

The third time Tim woke up in the elaborate room he was getting really sick of the decor and the headache that came with being knocked out and dragged halfway across the world.

“You know.” Tim started, the moment Ra's walked into his room (and it was actually Tim’s room he’d learned from one of the ninja guards), “You could have waited a month this time, to at least pretend this wasn’t all about your super weird plan to try and convince me into letting you adopt me.”

Ra’s opened his mouth to respond, but Tim wasn’t done.

“Which, by the way, I’m taken already. B did the whole adopting thing, so you missed that window. Though, I guess that probably doesn't really matter to you in the grand scheme of things since you keep kidnapping me. You are aware that kidnapping isn’t the best way to convince someone that your way is the right one, right?”

“Also, would it kill you to pick up some --I don’t know-- books on recruitment or something? I don’t understand how you’ve managed to get so many guys on your side it’s--” Tim started, but Ra’s had caught on to Tim’s mood at this point, conceded temporary defeat, and made a hasty retreat.

Tim didn't see him the whole rest of the day, and by the next morning Batman showed up, swinging in for another rescue and all was fine and good and normal for a while.

Until, of course, it wasn’t.

It was the fourth kidnapping that really set Tim off.

He woke up back in that stupid room with it’s stupid decor and those stupid posters ready to burn the place to the ground. But something stopped him, a premonition. Like if he was patient for just a little longer he’d find a good and proper form of revenge to take on Ra’s for his total inability to take a hint.

At some point two ninja came by to take Tim to meet with Ra’s. As they walked Tim couldn’t help but notice the posters literally lining the hallways they walked through.

They were of two wildly different styles, but both struck a thought of familiarity in his mind. One was obviously a play on the classic “I want you in the army” poster. The other ripped off old “pin up” recruitment posters. Both made him laugh, and Tim pulled a couple of each down to save to show the Titans. He had a feeling Bart and Kon would lose their minds over these.

He had just folded them up and shoved them in his back pocket when they reached an office. Inside, Ra’s sat in a chair and motioned Tim to sit in one across from him.

“Thank you for joining me, Timothy.”

Tim sat and shrugged, “Not like I had much of a choice.”

Ra’s waved him off. As he did, a different ninja from either of the ones who’d escorted Tim to the office came in with a tray of tea. He handed Ra’s a cup, then gave one to Tim, and left the set on a table between them.

The whole vibe was kind of awkward and strange. Tim felt very much like he had one time a year ago when he’d realized halfway through a date that things were not going to work out. He hadn’t been able to end the date then and there, and had spent another two hours awkwardly making small talk and trying to avoid promising a second date.

“Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.”

Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

Tim took a sip of his tea in an attempt at avoiding having his mouth drop open in shock. Ra’s sounded like something out of a “Executive success seminar” that was just a veiled multilevel marketing scheme.

“To put it plainly, Timothy, I want you to become my apprentice. I know you and assume you might be hesitant to accept this lifestyle so I’ve prepared for you something of a presentation on what that might entail.”

Tim couldn’t stop a laugh from bursting out of him, but he did manage to turn it into a kind of cough.

“Wait--wait.” he said, almost choking on his tea, “Are you about to show me a powerpoint?”

Ra’s looked a bit put out at that suggestion, almost like he wanted to sigh, “Of course not, it’s more interactive than that.”

Tim held up his free hand, incredulous, “Is this--a job interview Ra’s? I thought you were pitching this to me.”

“No, no. It’s an interactive presentation designed to show you just what you have to gain from joining me.” Ra’s explained, as he did so Tim took another sip of his tea.

He lifted his cup and waved it lightly, “Oh yeah, so I’m just in one of those fairy tales then where you make me do three impossible tasks and at the end I get the happily ever after dip in the lazarus pit?”

“It’s only one trial--”

“So it is a task!” Tim declared, almost standing.

“Timothy.” Ra’s snapped, sounding a bit like Bruce whenever Tim and Steph’s antics pushed him a bit too far.

Tim crossed his legs and leaned back into the chair, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Irritating the man was a bad idea, Tim knew that, but this was just ridiculous. He wasn’t going to be sent on a wild quest that might end up with him dunked in a Lazarus Pit or whatever else Ra’s had in mind that would supposedly prove how great it would be to work for him.

“If you are not going to take this seriously, then there are other ways of showing you why joining me is a good idea that are not nearly as pleasant.” Ra’s growled.

Tim held up his free hand, “I’d rather not find out, give me your pitch or send me off with your best ninja or whatever you were planning.”

He figured playing along would work for now. He could put off giving Ra’s an answer until Bruce came in for a third rescue. When he was home, they were going to have a serious conversation about ninja proofing the manor. Ra’s could not keep kidnapping him like this, they had to have some kind of security measures in place.

“Wonderful. I’m sure after your tour you’ll have a better understanding of what I have to offer you.”

Tim ended up following someone Ra’s called his “best general” around the compound for an hour. The guy showed Tim the training rooms, the medical suite, sparring rings, a variety of ninja’s actually practicing, and at one point they even ended up in the library. The general had been given instructions to pause anywhere Tim wanted him to, and so they lingered in the library for a bit.

He had to admit, Ra’s had a fantastic library.

The general didn’t seem worried about Tim getting lost, or escaping, and waited by the door while he wandered the massive room.

And boy was it huge. It was bigger than the main floor of the cave, with stacks and stacks of books on two floors. Some of the volumes looked ancient, and there were even scrolls shelved on the second floor.

He gingerly pulled one out to examine.

“That is worth more than you could ever imagine.” a sharp, young voice, declared, behind him.

Startled, Tim dropped it back onto the shelf and spun. Before him stood a kid, probably 8 years old, with tousled dark hair, dark skin, and a face that almost echoed some of Bruce’s school photos. It was startling.

“Hi.” Tim said, dumbly, “I know, it’s Ancient Sumarian right?”

“Tt.” the boy crossed his arms, “You are not an idiot then.”

Tim shook his head, “Nah, apparently I’m smart enough to be selected for recruitment.”

The kid nodded, “So you are Grandfather’s young detective. He speaks highly of you.”

Grandfather? Tim’s brain spun. This kid was Ra’s al Ghul’s grandkid? He ran the numbers, the kid’s mom was either Talia or Nyssa. If he had to put money on it, Tim figured the boy before him looked more like Talia than her sister. And his other features--like Bruce’s?

No.

No. Freaking. Way.

“That is hardly language to use here.” The boy said, arching an eyebrow at him.

Tim hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud, but apparently his surprise had been so great he had. He cleared his throat, “Sorry, I just never expected Ra’s to have a grandkid.”

“It is not surprising to me, I am his heir. Born to inherit the League and rule the world one day.”

Okay, that was a lot to unpack. Just a totally wild amount, but Tim wasn’t super focused on the world domination thing just yet (maybe later when he had a chance to process all of--well, all of it), “Sorry to keep pressing but, doesn’t having an heir kind of--I don’t know, put his whole Eternal Ruler of the League thing in jeopardy?”

“Tt. It is not my place to question my Grandfather’s plans. I simply know what I have been told, that I will inherit the League one day in his stead.”

“Well,” Tim rocked back on his heels casually and grinned, “That might be a long loooong time.”

The kid’s brows furrowed as if he had not really considered that idea before. He opened his mouth to say something else, but seemed to decide against it, dropping his arms to his sides to shrug, “If that is his wish then so be it.”

“True.” Tim said, not really knowing what to say. Instead he settled on changing the subject, “You know, if your grandfather gets his way I’ll be spending more time here, so I guess introductions are in order. I’m Timothy Drake-Wayne, but most people just call me Tim.”

He held his hand out to the kid, smiling at him. If he really was Bruce’s then they’d be getting to know each other for sure. Just not here. Tim had zero intentions on letting Bruce’s child stay with the League. Did B he even know he had a kid? Tim thought he’d better figure that out first before kidnapping his little brother.

Little brother. Just that idea made something flutter in Tim’s chest. He’d always wanted a little brother.

The boy scowled at his hand, and did not take it, “You may be correct, even if I do not see what Grandfather seems to. I am Damian al Ghul, heir to the Demon’s Head.”

Tim bit back a grin at just how serious this kid was. He sounded like a little prince, all imperious and haughty. Damian, even his name fit him. He wondered how Damian would do around Dick? Or Stephanie. They’d figure out how to bring a smile out of him.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Damian.” Tim said, “I know we’ve really only just met, but I’m sure you’ll see what Ra’s does in time.”

Damian looked him over again, then gave a sharp nod, “I am interested in seeing what you have to offer.”

“Damian, I found it, where’d you go?” A voice sounded from deeper within the stacks.

Tim started at the sound of the voice. He knew it. Knew it from nights spent chasing shadows, from recording’s Bruce had watched a hundred times when he didn’t think Tim was watching. From Tim’s own desire to know and learn more about his predecessor. It was Jason Todd’s voice.

But that couldn’t be. Jason was dead.

“I am coming.” Damian returned, his tone more childlike than Tim had heard in their whole conversation. He turned back to Tim, “Do not ruin that scroll, I will see you later.”

Then he spun on his heel and walked away.

Tim stepped forward, reaching out for the kid, “Wai--”

“Master Tim, we really must be going.” Tim’s guide was back, stepping into his view as if from nowhere, and stopping Tim’s chase as short as it had been.

“Can we wait just one more second?” he asked, “I wanted to ask Damian something else.”

The man’s mouth turned down in a frown, “I do not have clearance to let you speak with Master Damian. Come, we have more to see.”

Frustration bubbled up in Tim, but unless he wanted to start a fight he wasn’t going to get a chance to talk to Damian right then. The kid had promised to see him later, so maybe he’d seek Tim out. If not, Tim would find a way.

As he followed the man out of the library, he kept searching the stacks of books for a sign of the others. It wasn’t until they’d left the room that Tim caught sight of Damian again, his small form waving animated at a taller, broader one. One that, while older, was unmistakably Jason.

Before Tim could say screw everything, the two turned around a corner, and someone else was clearing their throat. His guide seemed eager to move on, and so they did.

Tim tuned out most of the rest of the tour, and eventually found himself back in the office from before, once again seated across from Ra’s.

“Timothy, I hear you have met my grandson on your tour.” Ra’s started.

“I did.” Tim said, a bit hesitant to go into detail, his guide had seemed like talking to Damian was a pretty serious thing, and suddenly Tim was afraid he’d gotten the kid in trouble.

Ra’s smiled, “He is magnificent is he not? Already he is a skilled warrior, and well trained in his studies.”

“He said he was your heir?” Tim ventured.

The man waved a hand dismissively, “Of course he is, he is my grandson, but that does not mean he will inherit. The boy is valuable to me, for many reasons. He is an excellent tool to wield against my enemies already, and will only become more so as he grows.”

Anger bubbled up in Tim. There was something in Ra’s’ tone that made Tim sick, to call a kid a tool. To plan to just use him his whole life?

“And what, do you want to do that with me too? You said you wanted me to be your apprentice, but if your Heir is just a tool then--”

“No, as I said I want you to take over a branch of the League. You have talents and skills Damian will not. The boy is--” Ra’s shrugged, “Let us call him a vessel. A shell for me to wield in one way or another.”

Well, that just made Tim even more angry. Damian was his grandkid. What Tim wouldn't have given to still have his grandparents, and for Ra’s to just--If Tim wasn’t already dead set on getting Damian home, he would be after this conversation.

“You know what, Ra’s. Let me think on it a while. I’ll get back to you on my answer. I kind of want to see Damian in action a bit, learn what this training looks like in someone closer to my age.”

The man considered this for a moment before nodding, “I will let you watch his sparring session tomorrow. For now, I think we’re done. Have a good evening, Timothy.”

Tim nodded, and left. His mind was racing, he wanted another look at Jason. Wanted to tell Damian about his dad. Wanted to make sure both his brothers were okay.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he missed the black and blue clad arm that reached out from behind a curtain and yanked him back. Nightwing put a hand over Tim’s mouth to quiet him, and then pulled him out the window the curtain had been hiding. They dropped, into nothing--except it was solid?

Tim found himself inside the invisible jet. Inside, and flying away from his newly discovered siblings before he could even argue they needed to be rescued too.

One flight with Wonder Woman and Nightwing later, and Tim was home again, being told in stern tones by both Batman and Nightwing that he really needed to stop allowing himself to be kidnapped by ninjas (like he didn’t know that).

Then he was in his room, in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind whirring. He had learned two things on this trip. Two impossible things. Two things he was going to leverage as soon as he could.

It was late, and he should be sleeping, but instead he texted Steph and Cass in their little group chat.

Tim: Want to cause some chaos?

Immediately he received a response:

Steph: Always

Cass: Who are we going after?

Tim smiled, his fingers dancing over his phone:

Tim: Ra’s.

Cass: Time to teach him a lesson?

Steph: I've been waiting for this, I’ll get the kerosene

Tim: There’s more.

Cass: Tell.

The light flashed on out in the hallway, Tim could see it flicker to life under his door.

Tim: Tomorrow, lunch at that place with the sweet potato fries. Come ready to plan a kidnapping or two.

The next day Tim found both Steph and Cass waiting eagerly for him at the restaurant, a heaping plate of sweet potato fries between them.

“Spill, Bird Brain.” Stephanie said, as he sat down, pushing some fries towards him, “I want to hear everything about this crusade against Ra’s.”

Tim rolled his eyes, and snagged a fry, dipping it in one of the sauces they’d gotten to accompany it.

“As you’ve probably already guessed, I had another visit to the League compound yesterday.” Tim started, “It was more of a day trip this time, but Ra’s did his very best to sell me on signing up.”

“More posters?” Cass guessed, then shook her head seeing Tim’s expression, “What did he do?”

Tim snagged another fry, “Yes more posters, but more than that he gave me a speech right out of a How to Recruit for Dummies book, then sent me on a tour of the building.”

Steph snorted, “Please tell me you recorded it.”

“I did not, but you will never believe what I found on my tour, or to be precise who.”

Both girls paused their snacking, waiting on him to continue.

Tim dropped the first bomb, “Jason Todd, alive and breathing.”

“What, no way.” Steph said, “How’d he even get there? I thought He was buried here?”

He shrugged, “I don’t have any of the details, but they’ve got a Lazarus pit, and Ra’s is weirdly obsessed with recruiting Robin’s, so I’d say his resurrection tracks.”

“Who else was there?” Cass asked, brow furrowed.

Now this he knew neither of them would be expecting. Tim hadn’t expected it. He still couldn’t believe it.

“Ra’s al Ghul’s grandson, Damian.” Tim said, watched both girls look even more confused, then added, “The son of Bruce and Talia. At least, I’m pretty sure he’s their kid.”

The fry Stephanie was holding dropped out of her hand.

Tim watched Cass processing the information, saw her realization that there was another child being raised in the League, then saw the determination cross her face at her own personal decision.

“We are taking them both, correct?” Cass asked.

“We’re taking them both, and burning the place down.” Tim confirmed, “That should properly pay him back for all the time’s he’s kidnapped me this year.”

Steph’s lips turned up into a sharp grin, “The law of equivalent exchange.”

Tim laughed, “You’ve been watching too much tv.”

“It’s prepped me for this very moment.” she shot back, voice falsely grave.

“Batman prepared you for this very moment.” Cass elbowed her.

“No.” Tim said, “I’m going to prep you. And then we’re going to put everything in action.”

They talked, and planned, and debated the pros and cons of letting Tim get nabbed again over just going himself, and eventually after many many sweet potato fries and sodas they were ready.

It was to be infiltration first, fire and kerosene second. Obviously the place was going to go up, but only after they set the stage for rebellion and convinced Damian and Jason to go home with them. Tim didn’t think it’d be a hard sell for Jason, but the kid was another matter altogether. If Tim couldn’t convince him to come along, they may actually end up having to kidnap Damian.

A key to the plan was that only Tim, Steph, and Cass were in on it. There was no way Bruce was giving the green light for such a thing. Besides, Tim wanted to see his face when they presented him with not one, but two, rescued sons from the League.

Over the next week Tim made himself the most kidnappable he’d ever been. He wandered outside, kept to himself, and tried to look as wide eyed as possible. He lingered in parking lots, and took shortcuts down empty alleyways. Basically, he did everything he could to signal he was alone and vulnerable besides hanging a sign around his neck that said “Take me to your (ninja) leader”.

At one point he even stopped, dead center in the middle of an alley and declared, “Wow this sure is a dangerous place to be! I hope I don’t get attacked and kidnapped by ninjas!”

The only response he got that time was from an older woman who stopped at the edge of the alley and very seriously called out, “Careful, young man. Don’t you know there are killer clowns out? You best be on your way before you get hurt.”

Then, at long last, Tim caught sight of one of the League members ducking behind a shadow. He paused his walk, and leaned over as if fascinated by something on the sidewalk in front of him. By the time he’d stood, the ninja was in front of him.

Tim held up his hands in surrender, doing his best not to actually look excited. Then, he was successfully kidnapped for the fifth --and if Tim’s plan worked successfully-- final time.

#Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Stephanie Brown #Cassandra Cain #Batfamily #fanfiction #crack #crack treated seriously #multimedia fic #humor #kidnapping attempts #revenge plots #Ra's tries to recruit tim #Spoilers it backfires #what is canon #precious posts #long post #chapter 1

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spooky-z · 4 years

Text

IN THE DARK

This story contains: sexual harassment, attempted rape, panic attacks and language. Proceed with caution.

Important info: in this au, Hawkmoth was defeated and Gabriel was never Hawkmoth (nor Natalie-Mayura), but don't worry, he will have karma in his ass.

I didn't tag anyone again, because of the possible triggers.

I wrote this story listening in the dark by bmth in the replay.

You will find things wrong about the law and things like that, but I'm not a lawyer or a police officer so ignore it. This is only a fanfiction.

9.05K

Maribat by @ozmav

Adrien felt numb.

He knew that his heart was beating normally, his lungs working as usual, but the sensation of being suspended... The extra-corporeal sensation he was experiencing, caused these two facts to be left in the back of his conscience.

There was something.

There was someone.

Someone was talking to him.

But Adrien-

"He's having a panic attack!"

Adrien was choking. The air entering his lungs made his chest hurt, his eyes were open - he knew - but he could see nothing but shapes; the wet on his cheek said that he had cried, that he was crying.

His body was freezing, the taste mixed with blood and bile in his mouth made him sick, the sounds seemed distant and the smell-

The smell of her perfume.

Was too much-

Too much-

Someone was touching.

Someone was touching him.

And-

It was like he was still there.

As if she were there.

Adrien-

...

▫▪▪

"Shit." Marinette sighed. "He passed out."

"Sorry!" Chloe was crying heavily in Kagami's arms. “I'm sorry, Mari! I did not know-"

"It's all right, Chlo." Kagami rubbed the blonde's back. "You were just trying to help."

"But-"

"Chloe, it's okay." Marinette said, trying to put Adrien on the sofa. “We are going to let him rest. I need to clean up this mess.”

The mess being the vomit spread on the wooden floor, the lamp shattered on the table, apart from the torn tablecloth.

Adrien, trying to stop himself from falling or, trying to find something to act as an anchor, had pulled the tablecloth tightly, tearing the embroidered details from the hem. And when he hit the ground, he slammed against the table with the lamp.

This was all because Chloe had touched Lila's name.

And Marinette knew at once, that Lila had crossed all lines. Even without knowing what had actually happened.

The three girls were surprised by the sound of the door opening, but soon relaxed when they saw that it was just Luka.

Luka who didn’t know what had happened and was looking at the calamitous state of Marinette's house with horror.

"... What?"

"Adrien." Kagami sighed.

"Adrien?"

"He had a panic attack." Chloe elaborated.

"What was the trigger?"

"Lila." Marinette responded with disgust.

"What the hell did she do this time?" Luka narrowed his eyes, eyes in which the pupils were a little more... sharp. Like a reptile. A snake.

"We don't know." Chloe sniffed, still shaken. "The only thing we know is that when I touched her name, he started to freak out."

"When he got here, was he acting weird?"

"A little less cheerful, but we thought it was Gabriel acting like absolute trash again." Kagami replied.

Luka approached the sofa, eyes sliding over Adrien's sleeping figure. Noticing the reddish spots under the eyes and how the hair was a little oily; which was not normal, since Gabriel did not accept Adrien less than perfect.

"Didn't Plagg say anything?"

"Plagg is hiding with Tikki on the gramophone and doesn't want to leave at all." Marinette sighed. “He barely stopped to speak to us when Adrien arrived. He just dropped the transformation and disappeared into my room. "

"So, he knows what happened and for him to be acting like that, it means it wasn't just one of Lila's lies bothering Adrien." Luka said, fingers stuck in the foam of the sofa. “And apparently it was something really serious. Serious enough to break Adrien.”

"I knew we shouldn't have left Paris without him!" Marinette growled. "If I had just-"

"Marin, please, this is not your fault." Luka said, approaching the girl. “It is not our fault. Adrien even encouraged us to make this trip.”

"He knew you missed Damian." Chloe pointed. "He wanted us to get away from Paris a little bit to celebrate our transfer."

"Even so!" The girl protested. "If I had taken Kaalki, perhaps I could have avoided what happened here."

"Hime..."

"I am afraid." Marinette murmured, tears flowing freely and Luka hugged the girl. “Afraid that Lila has broken Adrien beyond repair."

▫▪▪

The scent of chamomile tea was what woke Adrien out of a dreamless sleep.

At first, he shifted in confusion because that was not his bed. That mattress was a little harder than the mattress on his bed, besides being very narrow and the ceiling was too low to be his home.

But then he heard Marinette's voice whispering something close to him, the blond of Chloe's hair over his stomach, the distinct red of Kagami's fencing uniform and the comforting blue of Luka side by side.

"..." He moved, stretching to sit and Chloe was quick to lift her head. He noticed that her eyes were slightly red. "Good Morning?"

"Adrien!"

"Hey, Chlo."

He was at Marinette's house.

Adrien had gone to the Dupain-Cheng house after fleeing the Agreste mansion.

After running away from his father.

After running away from Lila.

His memory of the day before coming back like an avalanche.

Just like tears.

▫▪▪

"Adrien!"

Marinette, Luka and Kagami hurriedly got up from the table after hearing Chloe's voice.

"Hey, Chlo." They heard Adrien's voice, hoarse and weak, before they saw him.

The model looked the worst for wear. The deep dark circles, the hair pointing in several possible directions, oily and the vomit stains on the shirt, gave a much worse look than he had before passing out.

Marinette was distracted by the tears running down the boy's face.

"Adrien." Kagami sighed, devastated. Eyes shining with tears.

The model bent over his knees before he started to cry hysterically. With painful sobs, snot running down his nose, fingers digging into the blanket Marinette had thrown over him the night before.

Adrien's body shook with the force of sobs, his skin had turned an alarming shade of red.

"I-I-" He tried to say.

Luka was the first to approach him, cautiously so as not to overburden the blonde further. He had no escape when Adrien threw himself on him, arms tight around the musician's waist and his face buried in his chest.

Luka put his arms around Adrien's shoulders, returning the hug as tightly as he could.

Chloe sat next to Adrien on the sofa, gluing his legs over her thighs and crying silently.

Kagami approached, but preferred to sit beside Chloe, one arm on the girl's shoulders and the other hand making circular motions on the skin of Adrien's foot.

Marinette was the last to approach, sitting on the arm of the sofa next to Adrien, her hand making comforting movements on the boy's back and his blond hair.

They waited for Adrien to finish crying - Kagami having gone out once to make more chamomile tea - to give the boy a mug of tea.

When Adrien put his feet on the floor and leaned back on the sofa, giving Luka space to sit next to him, Kagami sat on the coffee table where Chloe joined her to be closer to the boy. The four around Adrien.

But it was only after he finished half the tea that Adrien started talking.

"Remember when I told you that I was going to talk to my dad about how Lila was making me uncomfortable in photoshoots and at school?" The four nodded. “Yesterday, before I left for school, I spoke to Gabriel. I told him how I was feeling about all of Lila's harassment and how I didn't want to have contact with her anymore and- “

Adrien took another sip of the tea, fingers tight on the porcelain.

“He said that I shouldn't complain. That an Agreste doesn't run away from a problem, he faces it.” He focused on the amber liquid in the mug. "That I shouldn't complain about my fiancée being sticky."

"What the fuck!?" Chloe whispered angrily. "Fiancée? Gabriel was classier than that.”

Adrien cringed at Chloe's words and the girl squeezed his knee in regret.

“I went to school; the day went by smoothly since Lila didn't show up for classes. I even got excited, even after the conversation with Gabriel. So, when I got home- “Adrien took one hand from the mug to intertwine with Luka's. Trying to anchor. “Lila was there, saying that my father had invited her for a romantic date with me, so we could get to know each other better... I ran away to my room. I-I don't know, I panicked I think.”

He shook his head, looking confused.

“I locked the door, I'm sure of it, but Lila managed to get in anyway. She saw Plagg.” He gasped; eyes wide. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't want to-“

Marinette put her arm around the boy's shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

“Shh, it's okay, chaton. It was not your fault." She whispered against his hair.

Adrien remained with his face buried in Marinette's shoulder for a few minutes before moving away, his eyes fixed nowhere.

“L-Lila was surprised, but she understood what that meant in some way, I don't know how! So, she threatened to tell everyone if I didn't do what she wanted and I couldn't let her tell everyone about Chat Noir! I couldn’t!" Tears started to run down Adrien's face again. "So, I accepted."

"Adrien." Kagami sighed.

"I thought she would force me to fake a relationship or support her in her lies, I don't know!" Adrien's eyes became more and more glazed. “But that wasn't. That wasn't it. That wasn't it. That wasn't-” His voice trailed off; his lips trembled.

"Take a deep breath, baby." Luka stroked the model's hand, squeezing when Adrien did what he asked. "This, like this... We are here for you."

"She asked me for a kiss." He said weakly and Marinette felt her blood run cold, dreading Adrien's next words.

The other three, having the same reasoning as Marinette, had frozen.

“I didn't want to, but I did what she asked. But then...” He took a deep breath. "But then she said that a simple kiss wouldn’t be enough to keep such a big secret and that she wanted more..."

Adrien placed the mug of tea in Luka's hands, before covering his mouth tightly. Eyes fluttered, but Marinette was quicker.

She took the bucket she had left near the sofa, in case Adrien felt sick again and handed it to the boy, who violently poured all the tea with bile.

When Adrien sat back on the sofa, tired of being sick, Chloe took the bucket and set it on the floor. "Do you want some water?"

Adrien shook his head. "Not yet. I don't think I can keep something in my stomach.” He looked at the ceiling. “... I think I blacked out when she started kissing me, because all I remember after that was Plagg shouting my name and hitting my face. I was undressed, but I still had my underwear on and Lila was lying on the bed just in lingerie. I think Plagg knocked her out.”

Marinette rose from the arm of the sofa, unable to contain herself.

She had tears - like all of them - rolling down her cheeks, her fists were clenched and her nails digging hard into the skin of her hand, she had to use all her restraint to keep from catching Tikki and hunting Lila all over Paris.

Adrien didn't notice the girl's action, his eyes unfocused and still immersed in the story.

"So, I got dressed and used Chat Noir to get away." He continued. "I didn't really think about it until Chloe-" Adrien looked up. “Now I don't know what to do. I don't want to go home because my dad is going to be there and I don't want to go to school either because Lila is going to be there. I also can't stay at your house because I'm sure you will be the first suspects, but it's not like I have much of a choice, so-”

"Adrien." Luka said, barely managing to control the tone of his voice. "Don't you dare suggest going back to that house."

"You are not going back there, Adrien." Kagami stood up, hands running through her hair before she sat down at the table again. "What happened here was not something frivolous. That was very serious.”

"But-" Adrien tried to protest.

"You are not going back to that house." Marinette interrupted anything he could say. “Not if I have anything to say about it. What I have."

That's when Chloe's phone rang with a message received. Five messages in a row.

She got up to check, trying to distract her mind from everything Adrien had told them. Chloe was not coping well with the fact that Gabriel had let Adrien be abused just because he didn’t accept that his son was gay.

Of course, she didn't mention it to her four friends. But she knew that Gabriel's sudden interest in Adrien and Lila becoming more than classmates or co-workers, was linked to Adrien's announcement about being in a romantic relationship with another boy.

Gabriel had smiled and acted like the father of the year on camera, but they knew the truth, of course.

Adrien was on a call with Marinette when Gabriel broke into the boy's room demanding that Adrien retract himself. Demanding that he go to the press and say it was a mistake.

Because Gabriel would not accept his only heir to be in a relationship that, in addition to not bearing fruit - children - would be dragging the Agreste name in the mud because Luka was not someone of high society.

Luka Stone was not a fact known to everyone, only close friends and family. So, the man thought Luka was just a gold digger.

Not that it mattered to Adrien.

So, Gabriel was an old man, homophobic and traditionalist. He wanted Adrien to marry a woman, one who would give him grandchildren and was rich. Someone like Kagami Tsurugi. But Kagami had dodged that bullet by telling Tomoe that she was not interested in romantic relationships, wanting to focus all of her time on fencing.

Which was a complete lie, but it had worked.

Chloe thought Gabriel would try to negotiate Adrien's hand with Audrey, since the first option was out of the question, but he never contacted either Audrey or André about it, so she thought he had finally come to his senses.

But apparently, he felt so trapped that he sold his soul to Satan. The talk of finding someone in high society left out, focusing only on the 'woman who could give grandchildren'.

Chloe tilted her head, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

She couldn't break. Not with Adrien needing all possible support.

The phone rang two more times, the screen lit showing seven unread Sabrina messages.

Brina <3

[3:25 PM]: Dad showed up with another police officer and Mlle. Sancoeur looking for Adrien, did you see him? [3:25 PM]: Apparently, he ran away from home yesterday and nobody knows where he went [3:26 PM]: Lila is saying some very strange things... I don't know if I believe her. [3:27 PM]: She's accusing you and Marinette of kidnapping Adrien for being jealous of their relationship... But that can't be true, can it? Adrien is dating Luka! We all know that! [3:28 PM]: Chlo, I don't like what she's implying. Is Adrien okay? Did she do something to him yesterday? Is that why he ran away???? [3:29 PM]: Nino said that Adrien doesn't answer the phone and doesn't know where he might be. [3:30 PM]: If you are with Adrien now, let him know that they are going after him. They left for the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

"Mari, we have a problem!"

"What's it?"

“Gabriel pulled the strings and the police are already looking for Adrien. They are coming here.”

Adrien stood up from the sofa abruptly, his hands shaking and his face pale.

"I can't go back there." He stammered. “I know I talked about going back, but I can't. Don't make me go back there.”

Luka stood up, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders and forcing him to face him.

“Adrien, calm down. We will not send you back there.”

"What are we going to do, Marin?" Kagami asked worriedly.

"I know exactly what to do." Marinette replied, determined.

She wouldn't let Gabriel or Lila get away with it. They would pay for hurting Adrien.

▫▪▪

Chloe jumped in surprise at the sound of the doorbell ringing, but Kagami was quick to kiss the girl's hand in comfort. Trying to calm her down.

Marinette sent a look at the two of them, before getting up from the sofa and answering the door. Where M. Raincomprix, Mlle. Sancoeur and another police officer, one she didn’t recognize, looked at her critically.

“Oh! Hello M. Raincomprix! Mlle. Sancoeur and...”

“Berger. Louis Berger.” The man introduced himself.

"M. Berger.” She repeated, smiling sweetly. “What brings you here? I hope it's not for our pastry, because Mom and Dad are in London on vacation!” Marinette joked.

Sancoeur frowned in annoyance, Raincomprix looked increasingly uncomfortable and Berger was the only one who was courteous enough to smile pleasantly at her.

"Unfortunately, we're not here to-" Raincomprix started, but Sancoeur was quick to cut him off, almost pushing Marinette to the floor as she passed through the door.

"Where's Adrien?!" She snarled.

"Adrien?" Marinette murmured in confusion. "I haven't seen Adrien since last week, before I left."

"We received information that Adrien Agreste would be here." Raincomprix said, being more polite than Sancoeur when entering the house, followed by Berger.

"I don't know who could have informed you about this, but it is impossible for Adrien to be here." She answered. "I arrived from Gotham just last night."

Sancoeur grunted like a furious dog, looking like she was about to hit Marinette. Which was a surprise, since Marinette never saw the woman less than composed.

"Don't lie to us!" She spat. "I know that you are obsessed with Adrien and crazy enough to try anything!"

Marinette frowned, feeling offended. She was trying not to break the insolent woman's nose.

“Mlle. Sancoeur I really don't know where Adrien- “

"Adrien?" Chloe's voice cut the tension between the two. And the four turned to face Chloe standing in the middle of the room, Kagami beside her holding hands. "What's with Adrien? Something happened? He’s fine?" She was frantic, almost panicked.

Marinette had to admit that the girl had a talent for acting.

“Oh, Mlle. Bourgeois and Mlle. Tsurugi, you would be next on the list.” Berger said surprised.

"List? What list?” Kagami looked genuinely confused. “And what does this have to do with Adrien? Can someone explain to us what the hell is going on? "

Raincomprix had a painful expression on his face.

"Adrien Agreste went missing last night and nobody knows where he might be."

"WHAT?!"

▫▪▪

Needless to say, Natalie seemed less than happy to be leaving Marinette's house. Having sniffed every corner and not finding a single strand of blond hair to accuse the girl of kidnapping.

The officers left the house on various levels of embarrassment thanks to Sancoeur's less than ideal behavior.

▫▪▪

"What is the plan?" Damian asked.

All of them - except Luka who had gone to Liberty just to get him off the list of suspects - were at Wayne's mansion in Paris. The place that Adrien would stay hidden until it was time to appear again.

After Sabrina's warning, Marinette was quick to throw Trixx and the necklace over Adrien's hands, ordering him to transform and then casting an illusion over himself, becoming invisible. Soon after she got in touch with Damian explaining everything as quickly and succinctly as she could and he told Adrien to hide there, at Wayne mansion, where no one would come looking for him.

Luka had left at the same time as Adrien, losing the police and Sancoeur in a matter of minutes.

Kagami, Chloe and Marinette stayed in the house for an hour after Sancoeur and company left, before heading to Wayne's mansion.

Where they were trying to come up with a plan that would destroy Gabriel and Lila once and for all.

"I don’t know." Marinette sighed. “Defeating Hawkmoth was different from that here because well, the guy was a terrorist and I was just able to beat him up with all my strength. Now, Gabriel is a civilian, a despicable and horrible, but still civilian. The same goes for Rossi. I cannot go with brute force.”

"How about blackmail?" Tim suggested, they were all sitting on the floor of the game room trying to think of something.

Kagami shook her head. "Blackmail may be a good idea at first, but it loses its effectiveness as time goes on."

“It has to be something more definitive. Like jail or death.” Chloe said, not caring about her abruptness.

Adrien was not among them, which was a major factor in Chloe's lack of filter. The model had gone up to one of the guest rooms wanting to bathe and sleep. Trixx following him closely, since Marinette was not comfortable leaving him alone.

Plagg still refusing to leave the Kwamii dimension.

Plagg. Plagg.

"Wait!" Marinette stood up; her brow furrowed in concentration. “Do you remember what Adrien said? About Lila recognizing Plagg.”

Kagami bit her lip thinking, before opening her eyes wide. "He said that she knew what Plagg meant."

Tim cocked his head in confusion. "So, she saw Adrien transform before?"

Chloe shook her head frantically. The eyes were wide, too. "No." She answered. “Adrien said that Lila saw Plagg and understood what it meant. If she had seen Adrien transform before, she would have already tried to blackmail him.”

"Not to mention that he said she was surprised, before informing him that she knew what Plagg was." Kagami said.

"Which means..." murmured Marinette.

"Lila already had contact with miraculous and kwamii before she saw Plagg for the first time." Damian worked out the train of thought. "And the only miraculous who was not with the Guardian was-"

"The butterfly." Everyone said together.

The five froze, the meaning of those words weighing on them, only returning to normal when Plagg suddenly appeared between them.

"Pigtails, I have an idea on how to take down the demon Rossi." He said without the usual tone of mockery. “About Agreste senior, I think your boyfriend and his brother will get enough just by investigating his past. The guy is not very good at hiding the tracks.”

The four who were still sitting on the floor stood up, different levels of determination showing on their faces.

"But before that, let me call the cavalry." Marinette agreed, hand taking the phone out of her jeans pocket.

"Cavalry?" Tim muttered confusedly to Damian and the boy just sent a conspiratorial smile in response.

Marinette had the phone to her ear.

“Mom? I need your help and Dad's.” She said. “It's about Adrien. He needs his family.”

▫▪▪

Finding evidence against Gabriel was like Plagg said: easy.

The guy had the Everest of dirt, but he had no idea how to get rid of the evidence. He probably just hadn't been arrested yet because he was rich and because of corruption. After all, why arrest a guy for free when you can keep him free and still earn a fat bonus for that, right?!

They managed to do away with two printer paper packages and there was still a shortage of paper to print the evidence against him.

Rossi had been easy and complicated at the same time, because the evidence about her being less than a decent person had been easy to find. A little survey of the previous schools she had attended gave them more than enough evidence that the girl was at least a sociopath and at most a psychopath.

Not medicated and who, in a way, liked it.

However, finding evidence that Lila worked with the Paris terrorist had been more complicated than they thought it would be. Even with Tim and Damian together investigating this part of Lila's life, there was very little to prove that she was part of it.

What led Marinette and Damian- Ladybug and Thaelab, the current situation: La Santé Prison. Where Hawkmoth, Bob Roth, was being held. She had requested visitation for the criminal with the excuse that she had a proposal for the man in exchange for information.

She reached the small room, where there were two prison guards at each corner of the wall behind Bob, and the man himself was sitting, along with the lawyer, at the only iron table in the center of the room.

Marinette wasted no time in sitting on the available chair across the table, Damian preferring to stand, leaning against the wall behind her.

"What brings the heroes of Paris to my humble residence?" Bob Roth crossed his legs, his nose held up despite his lack of power.

"I want to know about Lila Rossi." Marinette wasted no time. "I want to know about the person who was helping you to terrorize Paris."

Bob froze in his chair, his lawyer casting suspicious looks at the man. Bob probably hadn't informed him about his aide in crime.

The prisoner cleared his throat in surprise before disguising his discomfort with a disdainful pose.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Marinette raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

“Bob, please. Don't act like I’m an idiot.”

"I still don't know what you're talking about." He insisted.

Marinette sighed, getting up from the chair.

"Okay then." She said. "I thought we could negotiate a reduction in your sentence in exchange for information, but apparently I was wrong." She sighed before turning to leave. "Thaelab." And Damian pushed himself off the wall, following her.

Bob's eyes widened in a panic.

"WAIT." He called, Marinette and Damian stopping inches from the door, still not turning around. "If I tell-" The lawyer nudged him, trying to stop the man from speaking, but he ignored the warnings. “If I tell you about Lila, can you bring Xavier over to see me? I haven't seen my son since I was thrown here.”

Marinette and Damian looked at each other before nodding and returning to the table, both sitting down, their attention focused on Bob Roth.

The man sighed, shoulders slumped and looking away.

"You're right." He started. "Lila Rossi knew about Hawkmoth."

“How did she knew that? As far as we know, Lila arrived in Paris after you started terrorizing citizens. So, how?" Damian questioned.

Bob Roth looked up, his mouth in a thin line.

"Lila Rossi is my daughter." He replied. "A daughter I never wanted, but who came to my door threatening to expose everything to the press if I didn't do what she wanted."

▫▪▪

"This is what I call a plot twist." Adrien whistled, a recording of Marinette and Damian's conversation with Bob Roth playing. "She was blackmailing her own father."

"But now we can understand where she got this toxic behavior from." Chloe murmured. "Madam Rossi is a loving person despite being so busy, so I never understood how Lila could be so..." She waved her hands in the air, trying to find the right word.

"Bob?" Kagami offered confused.

"That will do." Chloe shrugged.

"But I don’t understand." Luka frowned. "If she was already blackmailing him with fatherhood, then why let her know about Hawkmoth?"

"Because if she tried to hand him over to the police, he would be able to 'prove' that Lila was helping him all this time." Tim responded easily.

"So, he set up his own daughter." Marinette shook her head, failing to understand how most of the people she knew had serious problems with their parents, while she was rainbows and flowers with hers.

"A girl he didn't even consider as a daughter." Damian pointed. “It was easy to notice the contempt in his voice as he talked about Lila. Very different from when he talked about Xavier.”

"Do we know why he wanted the miraculous?" Chloe asked.

Adrien looked up in confusion. “Oh? Didn't I tell you?” He tilted his head. “He wanted to revive Xavier's mother. His wife."

"I'm kind of sympathizing with him." Kagami winced in disgust. "But I don't want that."

"Okay, guys." Tim slammed hard against the keyboard. “The dossiers about Lila Rossi and Gabriel Agreste are ready. I think it's time for Adrien Agreste to show up.”

"It's show time, guys!"

▫▪▪

Mlle. Bustier was in the middle of an explanation when Markov started to fuss, the screen turning red and flashing "Urgent!"

Everyone looked at the little robot in alarm until he started to project a video on the green board.

It was a report by Nadja Chamack.

"We are here, in front of the police station, where Adrien Agreste was spotted entering accompanied by Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain from the Dupain-Cheng bakery and three other lawyers." Nadja announced to the camera, in the background, the police station in evidence. With barriers to prevent the overtaking of the curious and journalists. “Adrien Agreste, who had disappeared a week ago, appeared today for the first time. He has not yet left the police station and the only information we have obtained so far is that he is filing a complaint about what motivated him to run away from home.”

Nadja's image was replaced by a recording of Adrien getting out of a black car with tinted windows, accompanied by Sabine and Tom - Marinette's parents -, two men and a serious-looking woman wearing suits and with a leather briefcase in her hands.

Adrien seemed far from the model image that Bustier's students were used to.

There were dark circles under his eyes, eyes that were bloodshot. The blond hair that was once shiny and silky was dull and coarse. There was an abnormal pallor in the boy's skin.

The clothes he wore were atypical. A huge hoodie, sweatpants and sneakers. Black from end to end.

Tom and Sabine were on either side of the boy, trying their best to protect him from flashes and questions, before the police finally showed up escorting them into the police station.

Filming went back to Nadja.

“As you can see, Adrien Agreste gave no statement and we had no news from Gabriel Agreste or his staff. My name is Nadja Chamack and I will be back with more information.”

The projection was cut off abruptly, the entire class in shocked silence before they jumped out of chairs, loud and confused voices. Everyone trying to understand what the hell was going on.

Sabrina was the only compound, her eyes sharp on Lila Rossi who was strangely quiet, with a sticky glow on her skin.

Sabrina was sure that if she looked Lila in the eye, she would see the dread there.

▫▪▪

"How did they find out that Adrien was going to the police station?" Tim asked confused.

"Nadja is a close friend of the Dupain-Cheng family." Damian replied disinterestedly. "Sabine contacted her and with the promise of an exclusive and Nadja alerted fellow journalists to Adrien's testimony."

Tim frowned even more confused.

“But wouldn't it be better if no one knew that Adrien was back? For us to have the trump card.”

"I thought so too, but apparently the first image of Adrien's return would have to be shocking." The boy crossed his arms. "The image of Adrien Agreste at the bottom of the well, being the first to be published in the press, to pave the case against Gabriel and Lila."

Tim winced at the harsh words.

“Wow, wasn't that a little too much? Expose Adrien like this...”

"It was his idea, actually."

"... Despite everything that's going on, Adrien manages to keep his head cool enough to think that way." Tim murmured. “I am amazed and proud. I don't know which one stands out the most.”

▫▪▪

The disclosure that Adrien had appeared was not just to spread the boy's defeated image. Of course not. Marinette would not be insensitive to such a way of letting Adrien expose himself as harshly as if he were on a freak show.

No. That had also been bait.

They knew that as soon as Gabriel found out that Adrien was back and accompanied by Marinette’s parents, it wouldn’t take long for him to break into Dupain-Cheng bakery and distribute threats about what he could or couldn’t do if they didn’t hand Adrien back to him.

Which didn't take long to happen.

After the news that Adrien had left the police station without giving a statement of what had happened, Gabriel didn't take long to appear at Sabine and Tom's door. Natalie, Gorilla - who had an expression of sadness - and two men who were supposed to be for frighten Marinette's family, but that did not have the expected effect.

“Good evening, M. Agreste. To what do I owe the honor of this most dignified visit?” Sabine asked. The mocking tone of her voice did not go unnoticed by anyone.

Man, he had the guts. The bakery was surrounded by journalists and he still had the audacity to appear as if he were the queen of England.

"Where is my son?" Gabriel asked, his entire posture showing contempt. “I hope you are aware that I will be filing a complaint for kidnapping and private imprisonment. Your daughter lied to two policemen and you and your husband covered it up.”

Tom, who was comfortably seated on the sofa, looked up. The expression on his face was very different from what he normally had.

"Kidnapping? Are you sure about that, Gabriel?” Tom asked. "I want you to think very carefully about your next words."

Gabriel snorted in offense.

"What else would it be when my son goes missing for a week and your daughter lies saying she doesn't know his whereabouts?"

“How about: harassment, attempted rape, cover-up, exploitation of child labor, neglect, gaslighting...? There are a number of things I could also suggest here, but it is better to leave that for trial day.” Marinette finally spoke, rising from the sofa and approaching the door. Approaching Gabriel.

Natalie gasped, fury shining in her eyes. "What are you talking about you-"

“If I were you, I would keep the poisonous tongue in my mouth if I don't want to lose it, Mlle. Sancoeur. I personally don't like violence, but if it's necessary I wouldn't mind teaching you some good lessons.” Sabine said, there was a sweet smile on the woman's face.

"What is this story about trial?" Gabriel demanded.

That was when Katherine Spencer, one of the lawyers Bruce had made available to defend Adrien, rose from the dinner table. She had insisted on staying at the Dupain-Cheng house, since the likelihood of Gabriel showing up to take Adrien and threatening them, was high.

"M. Agreste?” She asked. "I have some documents that should be of interest to you."

"And who would you be?" Gabriel raised his eyebrow, snobbish.

"Oh, sorry for my lack of manners." Katherine opened the leather briefcase and took a business card out of one of the smaller pockets, before handing it to Gabriel. "I'm Katherine Spencer, one of Adrien's lawyers."

Gabriel looked at Katherine and the paper, disbelieving what he read and heard.

"It says here that you are part of the Wayne conglomerate...?" He said, bewildered.

Katherine smiled, probably enjoying the effect it had on Gabriel.

"Yes, Marinette and Adrien are very close to the Wayne family, so when Mr. Wayne heard about Adrien's situation, he sent three of his best lawyers to help." She replied, the smile never failing.

With that, she opened the leather briefcase again, taking a wad of papers from the largest pocket, before handing them out to Natalie, who took more by reflex. And then she handed Gabriel a single paper.

The man's eyes grew a few inches after reading the biggest words on the paper and Katherine used this as permission to continue her speech.

"As you can see, this is an immediate restraining order." She nodded. “You and any Gabriel employee, whether personal or from your brand, including models, may not contact Adrien Agreste by any means possible. Otherwise, the police may be called.”

“But-but Adrien is Gabriel's face! My main model!”

Katherine nodded as if she understood the man's indignation.

"As you can see a little further down in that document, Adrien is indefinitely prohibited from working under the Gabriel brand until the investigation and trial are over."

"Investigation? Trial? What the hell are you talking about?” Natalie asked, looking more and more irritated.

Katherine stared at the woman without reaction.

“Adrien, Mlle. Sancoeur, was sexually harassed and nearly raped by a classmate who coincidentally also works for Gabriel.” Natalie gasped in horror. "All of this under the roof of his own home, with the permission of his own father."

"That- no-" Natalie babbled. Behind her, Gorilla had his hand over his mouth, a greenish tinge to his skin.

“I'm afraid it's true, Mlle. Sancoeur. There is testimony and evidence about it. " Katherine sighed heavily. “Today Adrien went to give his testimony again, so that there would be no reasonable doubts and then we got the restraining order. Now you must go.” She waved her hands. "There can be no contact between Agreste and Adrien."

▫▪▪

Not surprisingly, when Lila received her restraining order, she freaked out.

The girl tried with all her strength to make herself a victim, even going so far as to give an interview to a local TV channel - less famous than Nadja's, but which attracted everyone's attention because Adrien's name was involved - telling what supposedly happened.

Madam Rossi was next to her daughter, both sitting on a sofa in what should have been Lila's house, while the girl cried copiously in a false way, telling how Adrien Agreste had attacked her at a business dinner. That he just didn't go any further because they heard a strange noise coming from the main floor, so Adrien ran for fear of being caught.

▫▪▪

Adrien's fans ate Lila for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

▫▪▪

It wasn't long before she also showed up at the bakery with the mask of a good girl being wronged. Demanding that Adrien withdraw the restraining order because it was destroying their relationship.

She looked more and more insane.

When Sabine took the girl upstairs to their home, Lila thought she had finally managed to get away with it. Only to come face to face with Marinette Dupain-Cheng and another frankly scary boy - he had a horrible scowl and a murderous look - sitting as if they were waiting for her.

Lila looked around expecting to see Adrien, but there were only the two of them there. Sabine soon returned to the lower floor.

“Hello, Lila. What are you doing here?" Marinette asked curiously, a cup of tea in hand.

"Where is he, Dupain-Cheng?" She spat, not bothering to act. Marinette wouldn't believe a word she said.

Marinette raised her eyebrow in surprise.

"He?"

“Don't be stupid, Marinette. Everyone knows that Adrien is hiding here like a coward after he ran away from home.”

"Don't you mean after you tried to rape him?" The scary boy asked. That was when Lila noticed the oriental sword leaning against the side of his chair. Unsheathed.

“I didn't do that! He's just confused!” She stammered.

"I don't know Lila..." Marinette tilted her head innocently. "Blackmailing someone for... sex, also falls into the category of rape."

Lila swallowed a sigh, surprised that Marinette knew the details. She believed that Adrien had told only the basics, trying to keep his furry secret out of the spotlight. Lila had plans to use this surprise factor to her advantage, but apparently Adrien was playing to win.

"Don't be surprised, Rossi." The boy said again. "Don't think you're the hunter here."

"What-"

"With that, I want you to meet someone formally." Marinette said nonchalantly. "Plagg."

And Adrien's kwamii appeared, incredibly scary for such a small and generally cute, creature.

“Hello sausage. We have a matter to discuss.” He said, his voice resonating on the walls of Marinette's house and Lila backed away in alarm.

She needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

▫▪▪

“There, pigtails! Her memory of me is erased, but I haven't erased the attempt to... Anyway! I'm going back to the house of your murderous boyfriend, Adrien promised to watch the lion king with me with a lot of camembert.”

"Thank you, Plagg."

▫▪▪

For the interview with Nadja Chamack, Adrien decided that the best place for this interview would be in the place where he felt most secure. The Dupain-Cheng house, on Marinette's balcony.

There were only Nadja and Adrien in the camera frame, but Tom, Sabine, Luka and Marinette were in the background, along with the cameraman, in the form of support.

"Thank you for granting us this exclusive, Adrien." Nadja smiled. "I know it shouldn't be easy to sit here and relive everything, especially now with Lila Rossi's recent interview."

Adrien nodded, he looked more composed than the first time he appeared on cameras at the police station, but it was still possible to see how puffy his eyes were and how thin he had become.

He was having a hard time keeping food in his stomach.

“Thank you, Nadja. It has been a difficult time for me, but with the support that I have received from my family, I remain strong on this journey.”

"This is very good to hear Adrien." Nadja nodded before speaking again. “Could you tell us what actually happened? Many of your fans believe that Lila's statements were false. What's your version of it all?”

"Well..."

▫▪▪

This time the witch hunt version Gabriel Agreste and Lila Rossi had tripled in strength, because in addition to Adrien's fans, parents who were outraged by Gabriel's behavior and artists who knew Adrien for the sweet and kind boy he was, protested.

They demanded that Gabriel and Lila to be thrown in jail and the key forgotten at the bottom of the seine.

▫▪▪

Both were arrested the day after the interview.

Gabriel got provisional release, of course. Such a rich man would not be arrested if he could do something about it.

Lila, on the other hand, had to wait for the trial in a juvenile detention center, even though Madam Rossi had tried everything she could to keep the girl from being taken away.

▫▪▪

On the day of Gabriel's trial, the press was in full force in front of the Palace of Justice, wanting an exclusive or some pronouncement from Gabriel, because since Adrien's interview, the man has remained strangely quiet.

The court was packed. The Mlle. Bustier’s class by weight had attended the man's trial. They were all sitting in the right hall, behind where Gabriel's group of lawyers was sitting.

Only Nino and Sabrina who were on the left. Nino was sitting in the front, as close to Adrien as possible.

He was happy that Gabriel was finally getting what he deserved, but also sad that Adrien had to go through hell for this to finally happen.

Sabrina was content to sit next to Chloe and Kagami.

The Wayne family had also attended, all wanting to show support for Adrien in this difficult time. Leaving the Super family to look after Gotham while they were away.

There were also curious people, some people from Adrien's fan club, some parents of Mlle. Bustier's students and accredited reporters like Nadja.

The stage was set and Gabriel was the main character.

The defense attorney had taken the route of trying to turn Gabriel into a victim of Lila's manipulations, which might have been true to some extent, but that made no difference when Gabriel was a terrible father. And such awful person.

He had no excuse for that, because it was obvious that Emillie was the only one of the two who really took care of her son and that it ended when she died.

To say that it was satisfactory when Katherine tore him up in front of the audience, jury and judge Lahiffe - Nino's mother - did not come close to the real feeling that the miraculous team felt.

When Gabriel was found guilty... Well, it wasn't Marinette's fault the shout of celebration they let out.

Thirty years in prison and a ban on any attempt to contact Adrien.

▫▪▪

Adrien later that day, discovered that the Dupain-Cheng were officially applying for guardianship.

He still had two years to reach legal age and as Gabriel and neither Emillie had close family, Adrien would enter the system. What Sabine and Tom Dupain-Cheng would not admit.

Adrien was already part of the family.

▫▪▪

The miraculous team was amused to realize that every time someone called Adrien Agreste, he would correct it by saying it was Adrien Dupain-Cheng now. With his chest puffed out like a peacock spreading feathers.

▫▪▪

Mlle. Bustier's class and even the teacher herself tried to contact Adrien or any of the three - Adrien, Marinette and Chloe -, but every attempt was thwarted by Tom.

Adrien needed time and he couldn't do that with a group of curious and insensitive teenagers buzzing in his ear.

▫▪▪

Lila's trial had been less of a show and more of a funeral.

She appeared in court accompanied by prison guards, her hands and feet handcuffed and typical prisoner clothing, but what attracted the most attention about the girl was her short hair. Navigating between a pixie and a mullet.

Adrien shifted uncomfortably in his chair next to Katherine, looking confusedly at Marinette.

He knew that Marinette was watching every step Lila took, even in the detention center, so she was probably aware of this sudden change in Lila's appearance. But she never said anything to him.

(Of course Marinette said nothing. She knew that if she told Adrien that other girls in the detention center - his fans - had taken revenge on the Italian girl for what she did, Adrien would feel guilty. Even if Lila deserved a lot worse than a simple bad haircut.)

As the trial passed, everyone there was certain that Lila was being judged just because she was a terrible human being who doesn't know how to hear no; but when Katherine was getting more and more evidence out of her briefcase, everyone started to understand that Lila was much worse than they thought.

Madam Rossi had hyperventilated three times before the big revelation that Lila helped Bob put terror in Paris. So, when the man came in as a witness against Lila and told the whole truth, the woman fell hard against the wooden bench.

She had to be carried out of court.

▫▪▪

There was no deliberation.

Lila was immediately found guilty.

She got a life sentence with no chance of parole.

▫▪▪

"How are you feeling, chaton?" Marinette asked, fingers dancing over his blond hair.

“Relieved, sad and tired. And also happy.” Adrien replied, his face buried in the girl's neck.

The two had built a fort on Marinette's balcony, enjoying the clear skies and warm night. Trying to disconnect from everything and everyone.

Adrien was curled over Marinette's body, grabbing the girl as if she were his lifeline and Marinette had her arms around him, her fingers playing with the blond hair on the back of his neck.

“I know it has been difficult, that it is a lot to assimilate, but I want you to know that I will always be here for you. Always." Marinette whispered. "I will never let my kitten suffer again."

Adrien sniffed, arms tightening Marinette even more.

“Thank you, Mari. I'm very lucky to have met you.”

BONUS #1:

"I was thinking here..." Adrien looked up from where he was kneading the dough, drawing Marinette's attention across the table decorating cupcakes.

"Yes?" She murmured, the tip of her tongue dangling in concentration.

"If you're going to pursue a career in the fashion world, who's going to take care of the bakery business?" He looked away, his cheek starting to turn a lovely red. "Sabi-Mom and dad won't have a lifelong willingness to take care of the business, so who's going to do it for them?"

Marinette placed the cupcake on the table, looking at Adrien seriously.

"Adrien, be direct and say what you are thinking."

"I-"

"I think Adrien is trying to say that he wants to become a full-time baker, isn't that cupcake?" Luka asked, appearing out of nowhere behind the blond boy and kissing the reddened cheek.

Adrien squeaked in surprise, almost dropping the dough off the counter.

"Luka!" He scolded. “Don't scare me like that! And don't call me a cupcake!”

"Sweetie?"

"Sweetie either!"

Marinette rolled her eyes at them both.

Luka, after he started his relationship with Adrien, seemed to discover new parts of himself that he was previously unaware of.

Like being hopelessly in love and endless flirting.

It was disgusting.

"Okay, you two stop." She got attention. “The two of you flirting is disgusting. Too much sugar for my system.”

Adrien snorted, offended, Luka just winked boldly.

Marinette ignored them both.

"But if that's the case, I don't think dad would mind Adrien." She continued. “He will probably be very happy, actually. God knows how that man tried with all his might to develop my interest in baking full-time, but he never succeeded.”

Adrien smiled, lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"Do you really think?!"

"Of course." She nods. "Best of all, we have some of the best pastry schools here in Paris, in case you don't want to leave."

"Who's leaving?" Damian came into the kitchen looking like he was still asleep.

He and Luka had spent the night at the Dupain-Cheng house after a double date for horror movies with lots of buttered popcorn and sugary drinks.

It was supposed to be a slumber party with everyone, but Kagami had taken Chloe and Sabrina on a date; Nino was on Chris' nanny duty and Damian's brothers, who had arrived in Paris that night, preferred to stay home to recover from the jetlag.

So, it was just the four of them. And they managed to get to half of Annabelle before they passed out in the dreamland.

Marinette and Adrien just waking up when Tom passed the room to go down to the bakery, Luka and Damian sleeping heavily.

"No one. Mari was explaining to Adrien that he is more than welcome to continue the family business while she reigns in the fashion world.” Luka handed him the coffee mug.

"Amen." Damian murmured, planting a kiss on the girl's forehead before swallowing half of the black coffee at once.

"He looks so much like his brother when he does that." Said Adrien, remembering the time he had slept on the sofas at Wayne Manor and woken up with Tim sipping a huge mug of black coffee as if he were drinking water.

Marinette snorts with amusement.

"I always say that, but he never takes me seriously."

Damian frowned unhappy with the comments, but said nothing, seeing Sabine open the door with a tray of cookies in her hand.

"Look what just came out of the warm oven!"

Marinette smiled, her eyes on Adrien who had run to the woman, trying to help her with the tray even though she didn't need to. He was blushing adorably for the attention Sabine was giving him.

She was happy that Adrien was finally getting the attention and love he deserved.

BONUS #2:

Marinette was sitting in a small, but wonderful, restaurant with Leon.

Leon whom Adrien affectionately called Gorilla and who of everyone in that house, took care of Adrien as much as he could.

He was also the only one to respect the restraining order - since he still worked for the Gabriel and Gabriel brand - when others believed it was just a means of scaring.

Marinette knew that the man was a good person, that he really liked Adrien and that he had been blaming himself for a while now, for what had happened.

"How's he doing?" Leon asked, his voice disproportionately small for such a large body.

Marinette smiled; the pasta dish forgotten in favor of the man.

“Getting better." She answered sincerely. “There are more good days than bad, there are words that we have to avoid at all costs because of the trigger, but Adrien is doing well. Therapy is helping a lot.”

Leon looked down, a shy smile on his face.

“Is he still going to school? I know how much he enjoyed having a normal life. Or as normal as possible.”

"Yes, mom and dad transferred him to the lycée that I'm attending with Chloe and Kagami." Marinette nodded. "Things at Dupont were inconceivable to him."

Leon looked at her again. “I'm glad he found people he could trust, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette snorted, amused. “Please, Leon. Just Marinette.” She stared at the man, holding his gaze. "He misses you, you know?"

Leon's jaw dropped in surprise.

"Don't be so surprised!" She laughed. "It is true. You were the only person he really felt close to in that place and who never hurt him.”

"Oh..." Leon looked away.

"You should come to dinner with us sometime." Marinette continued. "Now that you no longer work for Gabriel, there is no restraining order to stop you."

"I-"

"Not to mention that we need someone trained to help us when Adrien's fans and journalists get really aggressive." She said innocently before drinking water.

Leon froze in surprise, incredulous at what he heard. Until a sincere smile opened on the man's face.

"Okay."

"Yea?" Marinette asked hopefully.

"Yes."

Leon watched the tiny girl wave her arms happily, not caring about the amused looks and laughter she attracted.

Maybe it was a good start for him too.

#lukadrien #maribat #daminette #kagami x chloe x sabrina #ml salt #lila rossi salt #lila bashing #gabriel agreste salt #gabriel bashing #potentially triggering #miraculous ladybug

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apolloloki97 · 3 years

Text

“Back On Solid Ground” Ian Gallagher x Mickey Milkovich

Summary: After Mickey is released early from prison, he is in no rush to go back into the arms of Ian Gallagher. After unsuccessfully trying to win Mickey back, the rest of the Gallagher siblings and a couple of friends try to help out their favourite Southside couple.

Or when Ian's friends and siblings try to get Mickey to talk to Ian after Mickey gets out.

Word Count: 7302

Warning: Swearing, Mentions of Mental Illness

Song I Wrote To: “I Found" by Amber Run

Note: Now, I am not a lawyer and I usually do research for fics, but just go with me on the legal proceedings for this. I love this story a lot and I always wanted more of Mickey's emotions after he was released. I needed this after the show finale as well.

----------

The last thing Mickey wanted to do was drink alone and so he called his favourite cousin.

Sandy was finally back in town after leaving once she got out of juvie for the last time. Iggy had told Mickey that Sandy was trying to go straight, but the younger Milkovich brother knew that the only straight thing about his cousin was her hair.

Regardless, once he was out of prison, she was his first call. Turns out that when the woman who presses charges on you for attempted murder goes insane and is deemed a pathological liar, the justice system becomes much more lenient. Mickey still remembered the moment the warden told him that he was getting out. He thought it had been some kind of sick joke from Terry or one of the other delinquent Milkoviches. Yet, everything was soon in order and Mickey was released with a few strokes of a pen.

That was a week ago and after crashing on Sandy’s couch and wallowing in his own sorrow over losing the man he loved, he finally ventured out into the world to interact with people. Well, only if you consider the lowlifes at the Alibi Room, people.

Mickey sat across from Sandy as she drank her second beer, very happy to be out with him rather than cooped up watching reruns of some horrible sitcom. Sandy was his favourite Milkovich next to Mandy, but Mickey hadn’t seen his sister in some time and he wasn’t even sure where she was. He got a text or a voicemail every couple of months just to let him know she was still alive, but that was it. He missed Mandy, but he knew she needed to get out of the Southside and he was happy for her.

Mickey glanced around the room, the afternoon sun filtering through the windows as it illuminated the day-drinkers. Mickey was itching to do something other than sitting at a dive bar and trying to dodge questions that he knew Kev and V both had. However, he was happy to be with Sandy who grinned at him from across the table.

“What?” Mickey asked, taking a sip from his beer. “You keep staring.”

“I’m just happy you called,” Sandy said with a shrug. Mickey watched her for a second before snorting.

“Who else would I call?”

“I don’t know. Colin?” Sandy paused for a second before looking at him over the rim of her glass. “Ian?”

“Don’t,” Mickey warned, not willing to talk about Ian, especially not to someone who didn’t even know him. Mickey had been hurt when Ian broke up with him on the stoop of the Gallagher house. Mickey had done everything for Ian. He had come out for him, tried to take care of him when he was at his lowest with his bipolar, and even protected him when the handsy old men would try things when Ian was drugged out of his mind on whatever anyone was willing to give him.

“Have you seen him yet?” Sandy asked.

“Nope,” Mickey said with a dismissive look as he sipped on his beer again.

“Mickey…” Sandy tried again.

“Why should I, huh? Bitch never visited me, did he?” Mickey said. It still hurt that as soon as Svetlana stopped asking him to do jobs for the Russian mob, Ian had essentially blocked him out of his life. Ian hadn't even taken calls from Mickey while he was locked up. He knew that Ian had left him, but he never expected the redhead to completely lock him out of his life, not when Mickey needed him the most.

“I thought you loved him,” Sandy said, folding her arms in front of her on the table.

“Didn’t mean much to him, did it?” Mickey said bitterly.

“He was sick, Mickey,” Sandy said, trying to rationalize.

“You don’t think I don’t know that?” he asked. “I was the one that was there for him. I took care of him and he just threw me away while his bitch of a sister…” Mickey trailed off, not wanting to lose his temper. He had been trying to work on that for a while and now was not the time to come undone. Mickey needed to keep calm for his own sake and Sandy's.

“Have you told anyone you’re back?” Sandy asked. “You know, besides Kev and V?”

“No,” Mickey said as he finished off the glass of beer before him.

“So, we’re here because…” Sandy said, gesturing around the bar that was a Southside staple.

“It’s early,” Mickey said. “Gallaghers don’t get day drunk. Well, Frank does, but fuck Frank.”

“Maybe you should tell someone,” Sandy said, trying to be comforting and supportive. This was one of the many reasons why Sandy and Mandy got along so well. They were always getting into other people’s business and especially Mickey’s. If he was being honest with himself, and he always was, he figured that they were the same person at times.

It was terrifying.

Still, she had a point. Some of the time.

“Who would I tell, hmm?” Mickey asked, leaning forward on the table in front of him. Sandy’s eyes flickered from him to the door over Mickey’s shoulder, trying to predict the reaction that she knew was about to happen. However, she didn’t back down. Mickey had been avoiding it all for too long.

“Start with him,” Sandy said, gesturing over Mickey’s shoulder. Confused, Mickey turned around in the booth to see Ian. The third eldest Gallagher sibling had entered the bar with his older brother Lip and Lip’s boss, Brad. Lip and Brad were more focused on the game on the TV above the bar than Ian was. Ian was staring right at Mickey with a surprised expression.

Their eyes were locked together and Mickey felt as if he couldn’t breathe. As soon as Ian took a step forward, Mickey turned back around and shut his eyes tightly. “No, no, no,” Mickey said under his breath, trying to calm his heart rate.

“Mickey, stay calm,” Sandy tried, reaching for her cousin’s hand. Mickey pulled away as if he had been burned. Shaking out his hand, he got to his feet.

“Please don’t,” Mickey breathed out as Sandy watched him clamor out of the booth. From his pocket, Mickey slammed some bills onto the table.

“Mickey…” Sandy said, her tone almost desperate. Mickey ignored her pleas, pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and then headed through the back of the bar, ignoring the ginger-haired Gallagher that waited behind him. Just as he shrugged into the back room, he ran into Veronica. V stared after him in confusion, watching as her friend disappeared up the stairs that led to the old apartment above the bar.

V then turned to Sandy with a question on her lips. Sandy simply nodded towards Ian who was in the same spot as he had been when Mickey had noticed him. V sighed, understanding immediately. She didn’t know every detail about how the relationship had ended, but she knew enough. Most importantly, she knew how much Mickey loved Ian and how much Ian had hurt the man who had done everything to make sure he was okay.

Veronica turned her attention back to the bar, going to restock the Jameson and whatnot. Sandy added her own bills to the pile that Mickey had left before grabbing her bag and hoisting it over her shoulder. Sliding out of the booth, she approached the front door, trying to avoid the Gallagher brothers when Kevin appeared, stepping into the bar with a large black duffle in his arms. Sandy stopped as he went up to her, stopping just shy of Ian.

“This is all I could get before I heard Terry’s asshole cronies coming back up the street,” Kev said, gesturing to the bag. “Iggy had to hurry me out before anything got too ugly.”

“Thanks, man,” Sandy said, relaxing a bit more knowing that Mickey would have some things of his own for a while before he found something more stable.

“I’ll bring this upstairs for him,” Kev said as he moved past Sandy and headed for the back staircase that led to the apartment. Sandy watched after him for a moment before heading back to the front door. However, Ian moved first. He stepped in front of Sandy, set on intercepting her escape.

“Sandy, right?” Ian asked, recognizing her from the many photos Mandy had shown him years before.

“Yeah,” Sandy said simply.

“I’m–”

“I know,” she said, cutting him off. It wasn’t hostile or anything, but Sandy didn’t think she should be talking to him right now. Mickey should have been the one to build back the bridge between the Milkovich and Gallagher family, not her.

“I didn’t know he was out,” Ian said, his eyes on the door that Mickey had escaped through.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when the charges are dropped,” Sandy said. However, she elaborated after a flash of confusion overtook Ian’s face. “Your half-sister had some sort of meltdown in lock up,” Sandy said. “I’m not exactly sure what happened, but it was enough for her to be deemed mentally unstable. The judge figured if she was lying about most things, then she was lying about Mickey trying to kill her,” Sandy said with a shrug. “I picked him up about a week ago.”

“Shit,” Ian said, not surprised that Sammi was unstable, but that the judge had actually approved Mickey’s release.

“Yeah,” she said, just as amused and surprised.

“So, he’s staying here?” Ian asked.

“He can’t go home,” Sandy said with a sigh. “Terry has been on a warpath since Mickey came out. He never got over it and I guess he figured Mickey being in prison was punishment enough. He didn’t like when I came out either so I’m not surprised. Kev and V are letting him stay upstairs until he finds a better place.” Sandy hiked her bag higher up on her shoulder as she shifted on her feet. “Look, I gotta go, but try to talk to him, will ya?”

“It didn’t look like he wanted to talk to me,” Ian said with a frown.

“He’s hurt, Ian,” she said, “but he’s still in love with you. Mickey thought he’d be in there for almost a decade and regardless of who his family is, that isn’t easy. He doesn’t know what to do right now. Please, just give him something to hold onto.”

Ian frowned at that, trying to wrap his head around the fact that Mickey was feeling lost. It wasn’t something he was used to witnessing. Mickey was a rock, his rock and he never thought that something like a quick stint in prison would get to him. Then again, as Sandy said, he had thought he would be locked up for a good chunk of his life and Ian knew how Mickey felt about being isolated.

Mickey needed to be free in every sense of the word and Ian would always try to make that happen for the man who had always loved him unconditionally. However, that meant working through their differences and of course, Ian making up for everything he had said when he was off his medication.

“I’ll try,” he promised Sandy. Satisfied with the answer, Sandy moved past him and shoved out into the warm Southside air, leaving the Alibi behind her.

Lip, who was sipping on a Coke at Ian’s side, moved closer to his younger brother. “Are you going to talk to him?” Lip asked.

Ian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to try,” Ian decided, letting his eyes drift up towards where Mickey was staying, needing to see him.

--------

IAN

Ian waited until the next day before going to speak to Mickey.

He had been up all night trying to figure out what he was going to say. There was a part of him that was angry that Mickey hadn’t called him the second he got out, but he also knew that he had broken up with him and that he didn’t have the right to ask about him anymore. Yet, Ian still loved Mickey with everything he had. He just hoped that Mickey’s feelings hadn’t changed in the short time that he had been locked up.

Even after the few relationships he had been in since Mickey got arrested, none of them would ever compare to Mickey. It didn’t matter who Ian was with or where he was, Mickey was always going to be it. Which is why Ian found himself outside the small apartment above the Alibi just as morning turned to noon. The sound of the old pipes in the cracked walls was only making the rising anxiety in Ian’s chest worse. His hands clenched and flexed at his sides as he forced himself to raise his fist and knock twice on the wooden door.

It was quiet on the other side and Ian was worried that he may have missed him after all. Ian knocked again and then finally heard the sound of footsteps inside the apartment. “Dammit, Kev!” Mickey yelled as he approached the door. “I told you I wasn’t going to bartend for your shitty customers. For fuck’s sa–” Mickey’s sentence cut off as he tore open the door and realized it wasn’t Kev standing in the hallway at all. “Ian,” he said as he stared at the taller man in front of him.

Ian was looking back and he had to take a minute to take Mickey in. He was just as beautiful as the last time Ian had seen him, but he looked stronger. Clearly, Mickey had been taking advantage of the gym in the prison yard. His arms were more defined underneath the long sleeve t-shirt he wore and Ian could even tell that his back and shoulders had more muscle on them than before. Ian couldn’t help but look at Mickey’s chest, knowing the mangled tattoo of his name was just below the thin fabric.

“Hey, Mick,” Ian said, finally finding his voice. He offered Mickey a small smile, but the latter just stared back, breaking out his shock and slipping into a mood that told Ian that something was very wrong.

“The fuck do you want?” Mickey asked. Ian stammered for a second. He knew that Mickey was upset, but they usually always started off as pissed at each other before the reunion turned into a flurry of removing clothes and hands gripping at hair. However, he was realizing that wasn’t how this one was going to go at all.

“You’re out,” Ian observed and Mickey just raised one of his eyebrows at him.

“No shit,” Mickey bit back.

“I just, uh, I wanted to say…” Ian tried, still not sure where he was going with any of it. He had been prepared to speak to Mickey, but he had figured Milkovich was going to be a bit more willing to hear him out. The Mickey before him looked as if he’d rather be throwing his head against a wall than standing in that doorway.

“What?” Mickey asked.

“I don’t know how to put this…” Ian said, the anxious feeling returning to his hands.

“Spit it out, Gallagher,” Mickey said, “I got shit to do. Prison took up a lot of my time.”

“Right,” Ian said. “Well, uh, maybe…”

“Yes?” Mickey urged, shifting on his feet. Ian was looking at him and then he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say any of the things he had wanted to because Mickey had never looked at him like this. Ian was used to the glares, the smiles, the annoyed little glances whenever Ian would make some dumb joke that Mickey pretended to not find funny. However, now, it was as if Mickey was looking at him, but he had no idea who he was. Ian switched gears quickly.

“Fiona’s gone,” Ian blurted out causing Mickey to narrow his eyes.

“What?”

“Yeah, guess she finally got out of the Southside,” Ian went on. “Looks like she’s one of the lucky few,” Ian said with an attempt at a laugh, but Mickey was not amused. In fact, he seemed even angrier.

“Seriously?” Mickey said with a roll of his eyes. “Damn Gallagher, well I am so glad your life is so fucking interesting,” he said before he slammed the door in Ian’s face. Ian stood there for a second, stunned before he took a few steps back and pushed his hands into his hair.

“Fuck.”

-------

LIP

The next time a Gallagher brother knocked on Mickey’s door, it was not the one that Mickey had been expecting.

“Oh, what the fuck do you want?” Mickey said as he beheld Lip Gallagher at his threshold. Lip was standing there, an unlit cigarette behind his ear which only made Mickey want to punch him even more. He never liked Lip and he had liked him even less after Lip had constantly expressed his dislike of Ian and Mickey’s relationship.

“Ian’s been trying to call you,” Lip said with a pointed look. Mickey knew that and he had been purposely ignoring every call and text for a reason.

“And?” Mickey asked.

“You’re really going to be a dick about this?” Lip challenged.

“About what, Philip?” Mickey asked, using his full name just to annoy him further. “About how I got locked up after trying to stop your crazy bitch of sister with the help of your other crazy bitch of a sister? Who, by the way, never got picked up for helping me shove Sammi in that box. You’re welcome for that considering I could have rolled on her at any moment but I fucking didn’t.”

“You want me to thank you for not ratting out Debbie?” Lip asked, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Nah, I don’t want shit from you,” Mickey said. “Your brother dumped me before I got my ass shackled so he and I are nothing and you and I don’t owe each other shit.”

“I never liked you,” Lip said, already hating that he had agreed to go and speak to Mickey after Ian had begged him for two days. The only reason he was even standing in that hallway was because of Ian, but even Lip had his limits when it came to Mickey Milkovich.

“Wow, thanks,” Mickey deadpanned.

“But my brother loves you,” Lip went on. “And you make him happy so I need you to call him because whether or not you see it, you’re probably the only person for him and I think I've known that for a while."

“Right,” Mickey scoffed, “so you never said that Ian could always find someone better?” Mickey challenged.

“He told you about that?” Lip asked, surprised, remembering back to that conversation he had with his brother.

“He did,” said Mickey.

“I didn’t get it back then,” Lip said.

“You clearly don’t get it now.”

“He cares about you for some fucking reason, Mickey,” Lip said, trying again for the man in front of him to see some reason.

“Then maybe he should fucking figure it out,” Mickey shot back. “Now, don’t you have some think tank to go smoke some fancy weed in or some shit? Get the fuck out of here.” Mickey slammed the door in Lip’s face just as he had with Ian.

“Dammit,” Lip muttered as he pulled the cigarette from behind his ear and lit it. Placing it between his teeth, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Ian letting him know he had hit and missed with Mickey. He didn’t wait for a reply as he headed back downstairs and out into the cool air of Chicago in search of a meeting for the afternoon.

-----------

DEBBIE

Debbie found Mickey a day later playing pool in the Alibi.

He was just finishing up hustling some drunk hipster when Debbie approached him with Franny at her side. Mickey looked up as the two walked up to him. “Jesus,” he said with a look at Franny, “what are you feedin’ that kid?” he asked.

“Kids grow, Mickey. That’s how it works,” Debbie said with a roll of her eyes.

“Whatever,” Mickey said, turning back to the game. Debbie remained where she was, giving him a pointed look as she kept hold of her daughter. “Can I help you?” Mickey asked, turning back towards her, already tired of the Gallagher bullshit. He already had to stop Frank from breaking into the apartment in the early hours of the morning. He didn’t need Fiona Jr. bothering him right now.

“Why won’t you take Ian’s calls?” she asked.

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey swore, running a hand over his face.

“He needs to talk to you,” Debbie said.

“I’m sure he’ll live,” Mickey said, grabbing his beer from the bar behind him and taking a deep drink.

“I don’t know about that,” she said. “He’s pretty upset.” That made Mickey pause. He set his beer down.

“He taking his meds?” he asked her.

“Do you care?” Debbie challenged which was the wrong thing to do. Mickey glared at her.

“Don’t pull that shit with me,” he warned her. “Answer the fucking question.”

“Yes, he’s on his meds, but he’s still upset you’re ignoring him,” she said.

“Well, he ignored me so now he knows what it feels like to go AWOL,” Mickey said.

“Call him,” Debbie urged.

“No.”

“Mickey.”

“Debbie.” Mickey crossed his arms, staring her down. Franny was silent as she stood next to her mother, confused as to why they were talking to the man in front of her. Debbie glared at him for another moment before scoffing.

“I don’t know what he sees in you,” she shot at him before tugging her daughter away. Mickey watched them leave and Debbie’s words remained in the air around him.

“I don’t know either…” Mickey said quietly to himself before returning his attention to the game and his own thoughts.

---------

CARL

Mickey was out in the alley behind the Alibi when Carl Gallagher showed up dressed in a police cadet uniform.

“You’re a fucking cop now?” Mickey asked as he looked up, taking the cigarette he was smoking from his mouth.

“Almost,” Carl said, stopping in front of Mickey. The last time Mickey had even thought about Carl, the kid was going to some fancy military school or something. If he really thought about it, Mickey never really knew what Carl was up to half the time. There was a time that Mickey thought the kid was going to end up in the joint with him rather than trying to get a badge and service glock.

“Weren’t you supposed to grow up to be a serial killer or some shit?” Mickey asked.

“Things change,” Carl said with a shrug. Mickey nodded at that, returning his attention to his smoke. “You talk to Ian?”

“Nope,” Mickey said.

“Are you going to?” Carl asked.

“Nope,” Mickey repeated. Carl nodded, weighing his options before settling on a new tactic.

“If I handcuffed you and dragged you to the house, would you do it then?” Carl asked nonchalantly.

“You try to put those fucking bracelets on me and I’ll break every bone in your hand,” Mickey said without missing a beat. Carl didn’t retort, he just smiled. Mickey never liked when the Gallaghers smiled, it always meant they were up to something or drunk or both. “What?”

“Nothing,” Carl said with a shrug. “I just missed that Milkovich snark.”

“Whatever,” Mickey said dismissively. Suddenly, Carl’s phone chimed, drawing his attention. Seeing who it was, Carl pocketed it again before turning back to Mickey.

“I gotta go,” he said and Mickey just nodded. “Hey, stop being an asshole and call my brother before he runs out of love ballads to annoy us with.” Carl then left Mickey standing there, more confused than ever.

“Love ballads,” Mickey repeated. “What the fuck?”

-------

KEV AND V

The next ambush came when Mickey was sitting at the bar in the Alibi looking over the books for the Southside establishment.

V set a drink in front of him as she wiped off the bar. “Thanks again, Mickey,” V said. “Since Lana left, we’ve needed someone who’s good with numbers.”

“Not a problem,” Mickey said. “Least I can do considering I’m staying here rent-free, right?” Mickey continued to tap away at the calculator, but soon realized he was being stared at. Glancing up, he saw that Kev and V were both looking at him with innocent expressions on their faces. “What?” Mickey asked, already regretting doing so.

“Ian called us,” V said with a grimace as she set down the rag in her hands.

“Of course he did,” Mickey sighed. “Alright, lay it on me. At this point, I’m waiting for fucking Frank or Kermit to show up at my door at the ginger’s request.”

“What about me?” Kermit said, turning away from Tommy.

“Fuck you, Kermit,” Mickey said as he flipped him off. Kermit just frowned and turned back to his friend. Mickey looked back at the Balls and waited.

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do,” Veronica began.

“Good,” said Mickey, picking up his pen again.

“But,” she went on, “he has been going through a lot.”

“Right, like the two boyfriends and the fancy EMT job?” Mickey scoffed. “Yeah real tough.” V frowned.

“You know that he puts on a façade. Always has,” V reminded him.

“Yeah man,” Kev interjected. “Ian may be smiling with those pearly whites of his, but his heart is actually blue beneath that ugly uniform he wears.”

“That was beautiful,” Tommy added as he eavesdropped. Kev nodded to him in thanks.

“Thank you,” he said with gratitude.

“Kevin,” V said, her tone full of warning. Kev then ducked away, leaving his wife alone with his former business partner. V leaned in then, resting her forearms on the bar. “Maybe just hear him out,” she tried.

“I tried that,” Mickey admitted, grateful to have someone to talk to that wasn’t a Gallagher. “He doesn’t seem to know what the fuck he wants.”

“Do you?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Mickey said softly. Veronica gave him a soft smile as she laid her hand on his arm, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Maybe you should figure that out first.”

---------

LIAM

Mickey was tired and all he wanted was a hot shower and then maybe some free beer from downstairs.

However, like always, he never got what he wanted. Opening the door to the apartment, he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of the youngest Gallagher sibling sitting on the couch in the small living room.

“Jesus,” Mickey swore, trying to catch his breath. “How the fuck you get in here?” Mickey asked as he shut the door behind him and took off his coat.

“Veronica let me in,” Liam said patiently.

“Why?” Mickey asked though he could guess why Liam was there. After the rest of his siblings had shown up, it wasn’t a long shot to figure out he would be next.

“I think we should talk,” Liam said, gesturing for Mickey to sit in the chair across from the couch. Mickey, amused, decided to humor the kid and took the seat Liam was offering even though it was Mickey’s house the kid was invading.

“I can’t remember us ever doing that but go on,” Mickey said as he settled in the frayed cushions. Liam was quiet for a moment before he finally nodded and folded his hands in front of him like a grown man in a kid’s body. Mickey still had no idea how he was related to Frank.

“I remember when Ian was going through the worst of his bipolar,” Liam began. “You looked out for me.” Mickey was surprised to know that Liam actually remembered all the things Mickey had done for him when Fiona was too stressed over Ian to look after her baby brother. Mickey would take Liam to the clinic for checkups, always carried him into the house when the boy was too tired to walk, and even made sure he always had something to eat whenever Lip or Fiona forgot to go grocery shopping. He had a soft spot for the smallest Gallagher sibling and he was never too proud to admit it.

“So?” Mickey asked.

“So,” Liam continued, “I’m going to do the same for you.” Liam seemed proud of himself for being the one to actually want to talk to Mickey rather than at him and the latter appreciated that. Mickey paused, eyeing Liam for a second before furrowing his brow.

“Are you sure you’re Frank’s son?” he asked

“Seem to be,” Liam said with a shrug.

“That’s unfortunate,” Mickey said, leaning his forearms on his knees as he leaned forward a bit.

“It’s not so bad,” Liam said. “I got great brothers and sisters out of it.”

“Right,” said Mickey.

“Ian told me about the time you were shot by his old boss,” Liam said suddenly.

“Kash and Grab?” Mickey asked and Liam nodded. Mickey hadn’t thought about that man in years because if he did, all he felt was rage. Lip and Mickey both knew what Kash had been doing to Ian, essentially grooming him, and they both hated it. If anything, it was the one thing that they agreed on.

“Yeah,” Liam nodded. “He was really worried about you.”

“I think he was just worried about getting fired by his viagroid boyfriend’s pissed-off wife,” Mickey rationalized, but Liam disagreed.

“I don’t think so. Other people he’s dated have been hurt or upset and Ian’s never reacted like that with them,” said Liam.

“How are you so observant?” Mickey asked, trying to gauge where Liam’s head was at.

“It’s a big house,” Liam said with another shrug. “People tend to forget that I’m around most of the time.”

“That’s rough,” Mickey said.

“Rough like being ignored by the person you love?” Liam asked and Mickey’s brows ascended towards his hair.

“I needed time,” he said, unsure of why he was having this conversation with a ten-year-old.

“Did you tell him that?” Liam asked.

“I was pretty clear, kid,” Mickey said, leaning back into the chair and propping his leg up on top of the other.

“That might work for other people, but Ian needs a bit more,” Liam explained. “He’s smart, but he doesn’t always pick up on things like the rest of us.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Mickey said, knowing very well how unobservant Ian could be at times.

“I always knew Ian was gay, you know?” Liam continued on.

“Yeah?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah, I mean by the time I was old enough to realize what was going on, he was already out and telling people. Then when you were together, I just figured it was normal for you to be around, and then… then you weren’t,” Liam said with a small frown.

“I was in prison,” Mickey reminded him.

“No, before that,” Liam said. “You would come and go and then just show back up and Ian would be happy again and I liked that for however long it lasted. I know he feels bad for what happened with Sammi. I know he blames himself.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Mickey said and he meant it. Ian hadn’t asked Mickey to drug Sammi or lock her up in the crate, he had purely done it to protect Ian.

“To him, it was,” Liam divulged. “You brought back his happiness and then you got taken away because Sammi called the police on Ian for something he did. He got better when he got the new job but there was still something missing.”

“Which was what?” Mickey asked as he tugged on his fingers, trying to ignore the hammering in his chest.

“You, Mickey,” Liam said. “You were missing.” Mickey was silent then, letting Liam’s words crash over him like rolling waves. He had always figured that whenever he was in Ian’s life, it was doing more harm than good. Ian made Mickey’s life better, brighter, but Mickey had never realized what his presence had done for Ian’s. Liam, however, had a pretty good idea of what it looked like.

“How are you so damn wise?” Mickey asked him after another moment of silence.

“Must be a Gallagher thing,” Liam said with yet another shrug. Mickey was starting to think that was his go-to thing when he spoke his mind.

“Gallaghers are wise?” Mickey asked, not buying it.

“When we want to be,” Liam said as he got to his feet. He looked down at Mickey and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I missed you when you went away,” he admitted. “You were one of the only people who took the time to talk to me and I know that Ian missed you too.” Mickey couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride at that.

“So, you’re saying that I should call him?” Mickey asked.

“No,” Liam said with a shake of his head. “You should go see him. After living with my siblings my whole life and seeing all their failed relationships, I’ve realized that these things are better-said face to face.” Liam then approached Mickey and patted him on the shoulder. “Ian has a late shift tonight so he’ll be home all day tomorrow. I’ll try to make sure nobody else needs to be home so you guys can talk.”

Mickey just stared after Liam as he made his way to the door. Just before he turned the handle, Mickey stopped him. “Liam,” he said, gaining the kid’s attention.

“Yeah?” Liam asked with another patient look on his face.

“I never forget you’re there,” Mickey admitted, letting out a breath. Liam simply smiled at him before leaving the apartment and leaving Mickey to his thoughts.

Sitting back in the chair, Mickey ran his hands over his face. “Ian Gallagher, you sneaky son of a bitch.”

---------

The next day, Ian was finally up after sleeping for most of the morning.

The quiet of the house was a nice change of pace, but that meant he was alone with his thoughts and that was not a comforting thought. Just as he was about to find coffee, there was a knock at the door. Hoping it wasn’t Frank, Ian sauntered over and pulled it open.

“That was low, calling in the little brother,” Mickey said in greeting as he beheld a surprised Ian. “That kid is convincing as fuck.” Ian took a step to the side as Mickey pushed past him and into the Gallagher house. He looked around and was thankful that Liam had come through and nobody else was home.

“I had to try something,” Ian said as he shut the door and followed Mickey into the living room. Mickey turned to look at him, trying to figure out how to start. Ian beat him to it though. “I’m so sorry, Mick,” Ian began. “I just left you alone and I never thought about what that would mean besides just breaking up with you.”

“You can’t…” Mickey paused, trying to keep his emotions in check. “You can’t just play with my feelings like that. You can’t just choose when you want to be in love with me or whether I’m worth it or not,” he said, finally getting the words out that he had been mulling over since he saw Ian walk into the Alibi with Lip and Brad.

“I know,” Ian said.

“Do you?” Mickey asked. “Cause I get it. I was an asshole to you when we were just starting out and fuck, I know I fucked up and did some horrible shit.”

“Which I forgave you for,” Ian reminded him. Mickey knew what he was referring to. All the comments about him not caring about Ian, the “warm mouth” moment in the store, and especially when Mickey had beaten Ian up after Terry’s attempt at forced conversion therapy.

“And we worked through it,” Mickey went on. “I came out, I told you that I loved you, and then…”

“And then I got sick,” Ian finished, but Mickey was shaking his head.

“It wasn’t just that," Mickey said. “I felt like because I was trying, you didn’t want me anymore. It was like you preferred it when I was an asshole to you and only using you for sex.”

“I didn’t,” Ian said, taking a step forward. Mickey took one back.

“I don’t believe you,” Mickey said, his voice cracking slightly as his emotions began to win.

“I remember the exact moment I found out about you marrying Svetlana,” Ian began, shifting gears. “Mandy had casually mentioned it at school one day. She didn’t know about us and I had tried not to react, but it broke me to hear that you were marrying the woman who did...that to you. It made me sick. All I wanted to do was run away and take you with me.”

“That’s not how life works,” Mickey said.

“I know, but I still wanted to try,” said Ian. “I tried everything I could to keep you out of my head the second you had me pinned in your room that day but I couldn’t do it. I tried to be with other men, brush you off when it was too hard to keep my hands off you, but you always roped me back in. The day at Ned’s when you kissed me for the first time… Man, I felt like I was on fire. Then after what happened with your dad, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stay away, but I also knew you were going to shut me out.”

“I had my reasons,” Mickey said, trying to get Ian to understand why he had shut him out.

“I know,” said Ian. “You were doing it to protect me from Terry.” Mickey nodded. “Still, it didn’t stop me from falling in love with you. You never gave up on me even when you wanted nothing to do with me. The night you found me passed outside the Fairytale, on the way home you told me that you’d always be there to pick my ass off the street and you always kept that promise.”

“You remember that?” Mickey asked, surprised Ian could remember anything about his club days. Mickey had said a lot of things in the Uber on the way home, but he didn’t think Ian was even conscious half the time.

“I remember everything you’ve said to me,” Ian said, taking another step and was glad to see that Mickey didn’t retreat this time. “I should have been there when you were locked up.” Mickey nodded, running a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t expect you to fucking live behind that glass wall, but I needed… I needed you and I needed to know if you were okay, Ian,” Mickey admitted, looking at the man in front of him with a near pleading expression. “I had nightmares that you were in a ditch somewhere, out of your mind, while full bottles of pills were still in your room.” Ian grimaced, hating how Mickey had worried about him.

“I didn’t want you to worry, Mick,” he said.

“Tough shit,” Mickey shot back. “That’s what you do when you’re in love.” Ian was startled by that.

“You still love me?” he asked.

“What the fuck do you think?” Mickey asked, incredulously.

“You seemed so angry,” Ian said, reminding him of their last conversation.

“I was,” Mickey said, “and I needed a minute to breathe. Contrary to popular belief, I do care about being in prison and I don’t want to get familiar with those fucking concrete walls. I’d rather not be another frequent flyer Milkovich,” Mickey admitted. “You always say that you need to get your shit together, well it was my turn, Ian.”

“I get that,” Ian said.

“My life ain’t gonna be a carbon copy of Terry’s. I’m gonna be better, I have to be the better man,” Mickey said, unable to stop himself now that he was letting it all out.

“You already are,” Ian said, walking right up to him.

“I can’t go back,” Mickey said, looking up into Ian’s bright and attentive green eyes. “I have to think straight and when I’m with you or not with you… I ain’t gonna survive if you suddenly decide I’m not worth it again.” Ian reached up and took Mickey's face in his hands. Mickey had never outwardly expressed his desire to break the Milkovich mold like this. Ian could hear the fear behind every word and it hurt him to see Mickey like that. He was the strongest man Ian had ever known, but he always admired the strength it took to tell Ian all of this.

“I won’t,” Ian told him. “You are always worth it. Always. I love you, Mickey, and I don’t want to lose you.” Mickey was shaking his head as he placed his hands over Ian’s.

“You never lost me,” Mickey said softly, relaxing under Ian’s touch. “You may have wanted to end things, but I never got rid of us.” He then took Ian’s hand and lowered it to his chest, right on top of the tattoo that remained on Mickey’s heart.

“I’m so sorry,” Ian said again and he was willing to say it as many times as it took for Mickey to hear him. Ian looked into Mickey’s eyes then and saw something that reminded him of something Mandy had once said to him. That look in Mickey’s eyes finally made him relax.

“I’m sorry, too,” Mickey said, reaching up to run his thumb along Ian’s cheekbone.

“For what?” Ian asked, his brow furrowed. Mickey smoothed out the crease between his brows, not letting Ian stress about anything else.

“For not letting you in sooner,” Mickey said. “We could have more, so much more. Fuck, I missed you,” Mickey breathed out as he tugged Ian into him. Their lips met with a warm and firm kiss. Ian threw his arms around Mickey’s pulling him even closer. Mickey savored the feel of Ian Gallagher’s lips on his own as he sighed into the kiss.

Shoving his hands into Ian’s hair, he tugged on it, eliciting a moan from the taller man much to Mickey’s satisfaction. Ian kissed him a few more times before he pulled back, letting his forehead rest against Mickey’s so they could catch their breath. “Tell your family to back off now,” Mickey said with a smile.

“Tell them yourself,” Ian said. “You're moving in with me.”

“Is that so?” Mickey asked as he pushed back a bit so he could see Ian’s face.

“Don’t argue with me, Mr. Milkovich,” Ian said, his fingers playing with the hair at the nape of Mickey’s neck.

“You know I don’t like taking orders. I had enough of that shit in the joint,” Mickey said.

“You never complained before,” Ian said seductively as he ran his hand down Mickey’s stomach and towards his hips. Mickey raised his brows then, leaning into Ian’s hands.

“You are something else, Gallagher,” Mickey said, grateful to be with him once again, “but fuck I love you.”

“Then come here,” Ian urged as he reached for Mickey’s belt. Looking at Ian’s face, his expression filled with not just lust but love as well, Mickey melted beneath Ian’s gaze and finally felt as if he was free for the first time since getting out.

“Fuck it,” he swore as he tugged Ian in close. “Yes, Sir.” Ian grinned as he wrapped himself around Mickey again, letting everything between them solidify as they had found their way back to each other once again.

#Gallavich #Shameless #Ian x Mickey #shameless #Ian Gallagher #Ian Gallagher x Mickey Milkovich #Mickey Milkovich #Gallavich Fics

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