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novelist-becca · 3 years

Text

Mama's here

Fandom: The Owl House

Rating: Teen

Relationships: Eda Clawthorne & Luz Noceda

Summary: Luz and Eda have a rough night after Lilith and Gwendolyn leave.

AO3

After Lilith and her mother left, things were…uneventful to say the least. Almost.

Eda was tired. Luz was tired. Everyone was tired. To put it simply, the events of that day were finally catching up.

True to her word, Eda flopped onto the couch immediately.

Luz had come back inside, noticed her, and approached cautiously. After...everything, the girl wasn’t sure if Eda wanted to talk. But Luz wanted to say something nonetheless. The guilt was practically gnawing at her chest. For the time being, she settled on sitting on the floor against the couch, next to Eda’s head.

“Eda?” Luz started. The witch turned her head to her in response, her eyes tired. It hurt all the more for Luz to look at her mentor like this. “I know you’re tired, but...can I say something?”

“Hm?” Eda hummed in response. Luz took this as a signal to continue.

“I’m sorry. About everything tonight.” Luz said.

“Kid, it's fine.”

“No, it's not. I shouldn't have gotten involved. I only wanted to help you, but- I think I made things worse by listening to your mom.” Luz explained. Eda was looking at her. That meant that she was at least listening. “I thought that if I helped her cure you, the rift between you and her would be mended.” Luz almost mentioned that it felt like fixing the rift between her and her own mother, but holds her tongue. This isn’t about her.

Eda sits up in her spot on the couch, facing Luz. “Luz, it’s- it’s okay.”

But Luz continued, needing to get this across to her mentor. “But I’m the one who set up the apple blood signs. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t have fallen into Gwen’s traps, which almost got you killed! I swear, I tried to stop her, Eda. I had no idea she would do all that stuff! Heck, I-I had an elixir ready for you- I was ready to bail! But...it was the last second. You turned into the beast again, and it’s my fault.” She finished with a sigh. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve trusted your judgement. You have every right to be mad at me.”

Eda glanced to the side, choosing her words carefully. It was clear that what happened weighed heavily on the kid, as would anything else. Luz, the selfless soul she was, was only trying to help her.

“Luz, I'm not mad. It’s okay. I get it.” The witch says, touching Luz’s shoulder. “You had no idea my mom would hide the elixirs. You didn’t know she would get that extreme. If anything, I should’ve told you more about her sooner. I could already tell her ‘cures’ were bullshit anyway after a few years. It’s not on you.”

Luz looked at her with unsure eyes. “But I still played a part in what happened. You turned into the owl beast because I was too desperate to know a way back to the human realm. And...now I know that Gwen fell for a stupid scam because she was desperate to help her daughter.” Memories come back to Luz of people in the human world just like Gwen, except they were less willing to change when presented with facts.

Eda squeezed the girl’s shoulder, smiling softly. “Hey. Did you forget what happened tonight? Mom finally got it into her head that I don’t want a cure. She’s willing to give the elixirs a chance, and-” The witch’s smile faltered and she looked down as she remembered. “She’s going to make things right with Lily. I-I know it.”

Seeing the sadness in Eda’s eyes, Luz takes her mentor’s hand in her own. “I’m sorry about Lilith too, Eda. I can’t imagine how much it hurt for her to leave. She’s your sister, and she was only here for a few weeks.” Luz knows Eda and her sister were close, and despite everything that happened between them all, Luz has to admit she is starting to miss her too.

“And now she’s gone.” Added Eda, who squeezed the girl’s hand.

“Don't worry, I'm sure she misses you too. And King and I are still here for you, Eda.” Luz reminds her. “Remember?”

Eda smiles again. Why did the kid have to be so good? “I know, kid.” she wants to make sure to remember that and also return the favor moving forward. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being so sweet.” Eda says fondly with a yawn. She places a hand on Luz’s head, stroking her hair gently. “Honestly, what did I do to deserve you...?”

A light blush spread over Luz’s cheeks as she leaned into the touch. “Dunno, just got lucky I guess…”

About a minute passed before Luz was close to dozing off on her mentor’s lap. Seeing this, Eda finally decided it was time to settle in for the night. Titan knows both of them need it.

“Well-” Eda clicked her tongue, gently shaking the kid’s shoulder. “I think it’s time we both get to bed, dontcha think?”

Luz slowly stood up from her spot on the floor, rubbing her eyes. “You’re right…” she yawned.

Eda stood up as well, stretching out her back. Remind me to not fall asleep sitting up again.

“Sooo, if you need me, Luz, I’ll be in my nest-”

Suddenly, Luz had grabbed Eda’s arm. “A-Actually, umm…” The girl tried to choose the right words, because she didn’t know if she could sleep alone tonight, not after today. She couldn’t shake the feeling.

“Can...may I sleep with you in the nest tonight? I don’t wanna be alone.” Luz asks sheepishly, closing her eyes, not wanting to see Eda’s reaction. To her surprise, Eda has a small smile on her face.

“‘Course you can, kiddo.” Eda says, patting the kid’s shoulder in reassurance. She almost asks why, but a part of her feels that she already knows the answer, and that the kid would rather not say. Besides, the witch could use some company other than King tonight.

The girl sighs in relief, her body relaxing. “Thanks Eda.”

“Aight then, you go change, and uh, I’ll be up in my room.”

And if Eda noticed how Luz held her hand as they both went upstairs, she didn’t say.

By the time Luz had changed in her room, Eda was already lying down in her nest, still in her dress since she was too tired to get into her own pajamas. She was on the verge of falling asleep, until Luz had appeared in the doorway in her pajamas holding a large pillow and her sleeping bag. She looked unsure of herself until Eda sat up and nodded her head, gesturing for Luz to come in.

The kid eagerly walked over to the nest, already trying to scramble inside, albeit very clumsily. Eda snorted at the adorableness of it all, but reached out.

“Hey hey, slow down there, kid. Let me help you with that.” Eda tried, keeping her voice soft so she doesn't wake King.

Luz shook her head. “Nooo, I'm fine. I can do it. The walls of the nest aren't that high…” Her words were slurred. She obviously was already getting tired, the grip on her stuff weakening. But the witch wouldn't give up.

“Luz, really. You're tired and you're carrying a huge pillow plus a sleeping bag. You could easily trip.” Eda insisted, reaching a hand out. “And trust me, you don't wanna pass out on the floor.”

“I'm fiiiine.” Luz yawned.

The witch rolled her eyes at the stubbornness and took the pillow, placing it in the nest along with the sleeping bag, surprising Luz, but she didn't protest.

Said human girl was about to climb in when two bony hands grabbed her arms and yanked her up and inside with a surprised ‘oh!’

“C’mon kiddo, get in here.” Eda said, releasing her and allowing the kid to get comfortable while adjusting her position herself. Now they were both laying on their sides, facing each other.

“Hey…” Luz yawned again.

“Hey.” Eda whispered tiredly. Next to her, Luz was all tucked inside her sleeping bag, one hand hesitantly sticking out, as if reaching out to her. Eda didn’t know why, but she stuck her hand out, close enough to Luz’s.

The events of the day were, to say the least, exhausting. From Gwendolyn visiting, to the old woman making things worse, to Lilith getting more and more stressed by her presence leading to the curse affecting her, to both sisters transforming, to Lilith leaving after weeks of living there.

But as usual, it all worked out okay in the end.

“Well...sleep well, Eda.” Luz murmured, and within a minute, she was asleep.

“You too, kiddo.”

“AH!”

Eda bolted up in her nest, shaking and breathing heavily. She looked around frantically, making sure she was truly safe.

So it was one of those nights tonight.

Eda had that dream again. The one where things had gone...differently during the bridge duel. The witch suppressed a sob and hid her face in her hands as the horrible images replayed in her head.

Luz was thrown over the side of the bridge, like usual, except...Eda couldn’t catch her. Luz had, to her mentor’s horror, been impaled by the spikes, screaming out in pain as she bled out while Eda was helpless to watch the poor girl die while she herself had succumbed to the curse.

There was nothing she could do.

The witch took some deep breaths, trying to remind herself that it wasn’t real, that her kid - Luz was fine, she was safe, they were all safe and -

Next to her, Eda heard the sounds of rustling of fabric and soft crying. It was Luz. And she was tangled up inside her sleeping bag, tossing and turning. Her face was scrunched up in discomfort, and she seemed to be fighting something only she could see.

“Luz?” Eda called out softly, taking Luz’s shoulder and shaking it. The writhing girl had tears coming down her cheeks, and started kicking out. “Luz?!” she said, alarm creeping into her voice. “Hey, wake u-”

Suddenly, Luz stirred awake, eyes wide with fear. She tried to sit up, but was trapped by her zipped up sleep cocoon, making her begin to panic and breathe heavily. The girl didn’t know what was going on, but whatever was binding her down, she wanted out.

The sight of it made Eda’s heart crack. So she quickly unzipped the damn thing, freeing the panicking kid. She helped Luz into a comfortable sitting position, curling an arm around her shaking body.

“Luz, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. You're safe. I’m here,” Eda says, pulling Luz close as the girl snuggled closer in return, burying her face in her chest. “Easy there.”

“I-” Luz choked out as she clung tight to the back of the witch’s dress. “I-I can’t- Mamí -”

Eda held her tighter and tried to ignore the feeling that came with what Luz just said. “Shh, shhh, mama’s here, you’re safe, kid,” She repeated, combing a hand through the girl’s hair over and over. “Jus-just breathe, okay? I got you.” She could feel her own throat tightening, and the tears began to form at the corner of her eyes. Whether she was comforting herself or Luz, she didn’t know. Luz needed her.

“I got you…”

As Eda cradled and rocked Luz in her arms, she felt the way her human shook with sobs, and it broke her heart. She knew what it was like to wake up scared and alone, and she;ll be damned if her kid went through the same. All she could do was hold Luz close and tight like her own child and try to help her.

At the same time, Eda was just glad Luz was alive. She wouldn’t forgive herself if anything had happened to her. The child -- her child at this point --, although scared and crying, was enough to reassure her that she was safe. That they were both safe.

Shit, kid, I wish I knew how to make this all go away.

“Eda…?” A small, scratchy voice squeaked.

Eda looks down at the girl, pulling away only a little bit, keeping her arms wrapped protectively around her. “Hey, kiddo.” she says softly. Luz looks back up at her with tired, glossy eyes. “You okay?” She asks, even though it is a stupid question. Of course she isn’t okay.

“Mmh.” Luz responds. “I don’t know…”

“That’s okay,” Eda says, adjusting Luz so that her head is resting on the witch’s shoulder.

A small smile forms on Luz’s face. “You’re alive.”

Eda nods. “That’s right.” So are you.

“I’m glad…” Luz murmurs. Then her eyes widen. “The dream - it was the bridge again, I-I was on the…a-and you were…” She squeezes her eyes shut and burrows close to the witch, going in for another hug. “I’m sorry.”

Eda’s breath hitches and she returns the embrace easily, because for Titan's sake, she needs one too.

“Oh, Luz, it’s okay…” Eda rests her cheek on top of Luz’s head, holding her tight once more as she tries to hold back tears. “I'm here.”

“I know it’s just a dream, but I was so scared. It could've been real.”

“I know, but it's over. We’re all okay, thanks to you.” Eda reassures, continuing to stroke her hair.

“Thank you…” Luz clings tighter. “'m sorry for waking you up.”

Eda pulls back to look her in the eyes. “Don't apologize, Luz. In fact…I had the same nightmare.”

“Really?” Luz gasps softly.

Eda nods. “Mm-hm. When I woke up, I really thought you were…” she stops there, not needing to elaborate further. “But I know you're still alive and well.”

Because I really don't know what I’d do if I lost you.

The witch cups Luz’s cheek, and Luz leans into the touch.

“I don't know what I'd do if I lost you.” Luz says, resting her head on the witch’s chest.

“You won't, you won't. I’m not going anywhere.” Eda promises.

After a while, Eda looked down to see Luz starting to drift off.

“You ready to try to go back to sleep, kiddo?” She asks. But Luz opens her eyes and shakes her head.

“I dunno, Eda…”

Eda grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Luz, draping the top part over her head. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right here, and I won’t let ‘em get to you. Okay?”

As Luz was laid down in the nest, a warm feeling sprouted in her chest. The way Eda’s been treating her lately has been soft, kind, and… god, Eda was just being so good to her.

And it reminded her of her mother.

She didn’t know how to feel about that. But it was nice.

“You’re a lot like her, Eda.” Luz says to the witch.

“Who?”

“My mom. You take care of me...”

Eda looks away at that, not sure of what to say. She still wasn’t used to the idea of being a mother, especially after the fiasco that was her own mom’s visit, and yet taking care of Luz and King came naturally to her. She won’t admit it, but she likes the warm, fuzzy feeling it gives her.

“Well, I’m glad I get to take care of you,” She says simply. And it’s true.

Eda settles down next to Luz. “Now, let’s get some shut-eye, yeah?” She says, kissing Luz’s forehead.

Luz snuggles closer to Eda tucking her head under her chin, letting the older witch wrap an arm around her swaddled body.

“Good night, mamá…” Luz mutters.

The last thing she remembers before drifting off was a warm feeling of safety.

#the owl house #toh #toh spoilers #owl house #the owl house spoilers #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #edalyn clawthorne #eda the owl lady #eda the owl mom #mom Eda #toh fanfiction #the owl house fanfiction #writing #my writing #lilith clawthorne #gwendolyn clawthorne

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writing-blog-iguess · 3 years

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Do you have any headcanons about the insecurities fic you wrote about? I can't help but headcanon a lot, like:

both Harley & Ivy enjoys watching reader finishing her food, they also call her their mom since reader has been making them food since their first meet (Harley loves her egg sandwich, while Ivy was the baked potatoes bread)

Alfred always bakes matcha swiss roll with red bean paste or pastries that's easy too shallow with reader (so that she could shallow without feeling like choking and needs to drink a lot of water) whenever she stops by and keeps giving him hugs which he gladly return it everytime, the Alferd&Y/N's hug, is what everyone comments it

Dicks showing pictures he took of seven years old (a journey of Y/N's growing he calls) and then reader to all his teammates and the league as soon as he learnt the engagement's finally announce 'Look at this! Can't you imagine?! She's my little sister! This is when she seven years old! It's very heartwarming right blah blah blah... " and that's how the other superheros and older Teen Titans and Barbara knows how much Dick adore his future little sister-in-law who's s cinnamon roll

Sassy and baddass way to talk for so people won't dare mess up with her confidence (Jason help her built up, after he met her and quick into adoption of her, siblings!) Not that he would ever admit, Jason will sent glares to whoever who diss Y/N's like to children picture books (for example, The Guardians of Childhood aka inspiration of Rise of the Guardians movie) come on, his little sister had great taste in books!

Tim forbid her drinking coffee when they first met and even after (since he nearly caused a seven-years-old gone missing in the manor after the reader can't fall asleep decided to have a exploration situation) but will make it for her sometimes later after she used to it, made account for art websites she wants to register that so she can admire arts but underage back when childhoods, so he used it under his own only name (defiantly annoymus, and no, it's not illegal website) and every then and how

Makeover and dress-up with Barbara, Stephanie and Cassandra after they learnt of her (which they give Damian few lessons of 'how to treat the girl you like' with Dick who's extremely enjoy it, Jason and Tim who's enjoy the show all day), in the end, all heads to movie since it's sister bond time and apparently, the ideas of XL caramel popcorns and coke are the best choice!

Bruce pat or ruffle her hair softly everytime they met, a habit since the day he had ten years ago when she's seven, a touch of 'my daughter is growing up' feel will seldom appears in his heart

Damian from straightly ingored to slowly falls in love with reader after everytime he saw her sincere smile whenever she enjoyed Alfred's food heartily (like this, but a more faintly heartwarming one haha, at the very last pic, not sure if you could see it, so here's another link you could try out☺☺ )

Innocent, 'naive girl playing tough' charm whenever she and Damian together alone (first kiss, cuddling, hair massaging, teasing, which he finds not annoying because it's how really she is, and he enjoys keep on trailing and turn on her wildness)

How reader slowly felt left out though it didn't really occur me, just the thought of Batfam night activity and how we're isolating from each other slowly and inoccasionally when growing up just made me feel that way, you know, the feelings of it's not the same like it used to anymore😞😞

And once again, thank you so much for accepting my request at the beginning, I've been having this thought in my mind but I just couldn't write it, I'm so glad you accepted it and it's totally the way I want☺☺ (And about part 2 Talia which you accepted it too, I hope my words didn't scare you out lol... I'm too exciting that day...) Hope you have a very good day ahead, author!

Tumblr really needs to let me know when I have something in my inbox, I swear.

Of course! I loved writing it, and I’m glad you enjoyed it. No, your words didn’t scare me lol, I’m just outlining part 2 and I hope you love it just as much. With that said, and you don’t mind the wait, send in your ideas! I love reading them.

Okay, onto the headcanons! I love these! I put mine under the readmore, there's a bit;

Y/N didn’t have the best home life. Like I’m not saying abusive, just her parents neglected her a little. And it didn’t help that her whole life was planned for. So when she met Harley and Ivy, they basically went, you’re mine now no take backsies. And y/n just rolls with it, because through them, she finds out what it feels to be loved by someone who cares about you. This of course, she keeps from her parents and the day she turned eighteen, she moved out and it was a lot easier to hang out with those two.

Ever since knowing Harley and Ivy, y/n’s been slowly getting out of her shell. When she starts to hang out with Jason, she becomes more confident. She has Jason wrapped around her finger without even knowing

The girls love her, everyone loves her and Damian’s just, why

She loves cooking, and she even swaps recipes with Alfred. (even from the beginning of the whole arrangement) she became fast friends with Alfred first before everyone else.

y/n has known Damian since his first day of school. But I’m not going to lie, y/n was kind of scared Damian.

She got so offended when Tim took away her coffee when she wanted to try it. And when she became a regular coffee drinker, they would talk about different coffees they had tried and compare notes.

When the arranged marriage was first brought up in conversation, there was a lot of protests. Especially from Dick and Damian, but Bruce just shrugged saying that it was a good match. And if they don’t get married in the end, than that’s fine. Everyone was very confused but stopped bringing it up

They have theories though about the whole thing, the most popular one in the manor is that Bruce is looking for the next Robin when Damian hangs up the Robin cape to be someone else

When Bruce announced that, everyone did their own research about y/n. Everyone but Damian agreed but she must be protected, though it kind of blows up when they kind of cast her aside when she started hanging out with them at the manor, (but that’s not until later)

She and Damian have lunch together everyday at school, much to Damian’s displeasure. And he’s mean to her at the beginning, ignoring her and whatnot. She doesn’t do anything cuz she hates this setup just as much

But slowly, she starts to catch feels but keeps it to herself.

As you said, Damian takes longer to fall in love with her. And its one of those moments when she looks at peace within his family and it just hits him like ‘oh. Oh no I’m in love and I can’t tell anyone this’ and he doesn’t. So up until they confess to each other, their just pinning after each other and people who aren’t family sees that their in love but no know says anything

However, they do get more cuddly when they’re alone. Like, they don’t kiss or anything. But when they have movie nights, y/n’s curled up on the end of the couch with Damian’s head on her lap. And she’s always plays with his hair, of runs her fingers through it and Damian has discovered that it feels nice and helps him to de-stress

She knows when he’s stressed about something, so her just pats her lap and he grumbles about it but is secretly happy (they have been caught on multiple occasions by his brothers and they chooses to ignore them

She’s been so use to feeling alone, that being with people who care feels foreign to her

When she starts to feel like she’s alone again, she doesn’t see it until it’s too late

It starts off slowly, the fam is to busy with missions and saving the world that they kind of forget they she doesn’t know, and when she comes over, their not there or just brushes her off when she is. And she’s tried to talk to them, cuz she’s spend years being a part of their family but then one day it stopped.

But they just brush her off and she’s reminded about her parents so she stops pushing and then altogether stops going to the manor.

No one really realizes at first, only Alfred, and when they do, y/n had already broken off the engagement.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x fem!reader #batman #arranged marriage au #headcanons #robin #damian wanye #i answered a thing #anonymous

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themoonlitsojourner · 3 years

Link

Chapter 3: Come back home

Gar thought Raven didn't care. And he couldn't fault her for it after what happened when HE wore his heart on his sleeve. But now she's here with him. And he can't believe just how wrong he was.

In the dark room, lit only by fairy lights and the stars on the ceiling, Tara and Gar danced. They swayed back and forth, shuffling their feet in a pattern neither of them quite knew. The way they were dancing wasn’t important, after all. They were content just to be together, no matter what they were doing.

“How’s this for a dance?” Gar grinned. “It’s not exactly prom, but-”

“It’s perfect,” Tara reassured him. With a sigh, she leaned forward to rest her head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.” He smiled down at her, running his hand lightly through her silky blond hair. “It’s no big deal, really. I’d do a lot more for you.”

When Tara looked up at him, tears shone in her ocean blue eyes. Tears he hadn’t understood at the time, mistaking them for happiness instead of sorrow. For affection instead of the dread of what was to come.

Leaning forward, she kissed him, so softly and sweetly he knew he’d remember that night forever. But like all the others they shared, it wasn’t long before the memory turned bittersweet.

~~~

Gar wakes up slowly. Why rush to return to his empty room and the aching hole in his chest? To the endless rain pouring down both outside his window and in his head?

But this morning is different. Today he awakens to cool jeans under his cheek and a gentle hand resting on his shoulder.

Gar’s eyes flutter open. No, he’s not still dreaming. He’s definitely lying with his head in someone’s lap. And when he cranes his neck to look, he can’t quite believe his eyes.

It’s Raven, of all people, who sleeps propped against the wall, head bowed and hair falling in front of her face, her hand resting on his shoulder. Her lips part slightly as she exhales quietly.

How does she do that? How does she find peace and control, the two things that have eluded Gar all his life? Especially now, when his world has shattered on the ground. He can’t imagine what the inside of his skull must look like right now. He doesn’t need to be an empath to know he’s a mess.

And yet Raven stayed. She pulled the pain from him, despite the havok it must have caused in her mind and the crick she’s totally going to have in her neck when she wakes up. She kept her promise.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so shocked. Maybe he should have a little more faith in his teammate. But honestly… Gar’d always thought Raven didn’t like him. That she only tolerated his presence. It’s why he can’t quite wrap his mind around it now that her actions say differently.

She could have decided to wait out the storm, could have let him push her away like the rest of the Titans. But instead she went miles out of her way to meet him in the dark hole he dug for himself.

When Gar closes his eyes, he can picture how she pulled his grief into herself, face creased in concentration. He can picture the single tear that rolled down her cheek, the first time he’s ever seen her cry. She hurt herself to help him. Why, he has no clue. It’s crazy. He’s lying with his head in her lap, for goodness sake!

I’ve gotta be a real mess if she’s letting me get this close. It’s all he can think of, that he looks so torn apart that she’s taking pity on him. Whatever the reason, he’s grateful.

“Rae.” She doesn’t stir. “It’s morning, sleepy-head.” Gar can’t help smirking. “And I think this is the first time I’ve ever been awake before you.”

“It’ll probably be the last,” Raven mumbles, still half asleep but falling easily into the familiar pattern of their banter. She pulls away from the wall, straightens, and immediately winces. Yup. Crick in the neck. Blinking against the light from the window, her careful gaze scans Gar’s face. Searching for the cracks.

“Are you okay?”

The world roars back to life around Garfield, the pictures and memories he’s desperate to forget flooding in.

“No.” He closes his eyes.

Raven lifts her hand from his shoulder. A pang shoots through Gar’s chest. Time’s up. She’s going to leave now, but he really shouldn’t be surprised. He is surprised she stayed this long though, that she answered a request he had no right to make. What was he thinking, anyway, asking the team empath to keep his chaotic mind company?

Gar’s about to sit up and let her go, and he knows she’s thinking the same thing, when he senses her hesitate. And instead of pushing his head from her lap, she pushes his hair back from his face.

As her cool fingers brush his forehead, Gar means to hold still, to listen to the part of him that’s afraid moving will make her stop. But the other side of him is so much stronger. It’s the part that needs to be reassured and held no matter who’s giving it, the part that’s been touch-starved by the hours locked alone in his room.

So Gar forgets who’s reassuring him and curls into it, seeking out more touch, more comfort. He presses his forehead into Raven’s side, letting her crisp cold wash away the muggy heat of his room.

Until he realizes what he’s doing. Never, in a million years, would Raven let him get this close. He’s totally making her uncomfortable.

You screwed up, you screwed, now she’s definitely going to leave.

But Raven doesn’t push him away. She stiffens, yeah, and she hesitates. Then she continues to stroke his hair. Her movements are awkward and unpracticed (he knows this is way outside her comfort zone), but there’s genuine care behind them. Gar tries not to purr when her fingernails scratch against his scalp in a way all the animal in him likes.

But it only takes a few seconds for reality to set in. Gar can’t ignore it any longer. Raven might be willing to stay and keep him company, but she can’t.

She has to go meditate so she can recharge. She’s told the team over and over that it’s not optional, and despite her incredible mental strength, Gar can feel the strain seeping in. The struggle to keep her mind level and calm after last night’s onslaught of emotions reflects in the tight control of her movements. She has to leave, and he can’t ask her to come back. Not after how much she’s given of herself just to be here.

Not when he isn’t sure if he’s even worth the effort.

“You should probably go.” Gar rolls off her lap.

Raven watches him for a moment, surprise altering her neutral expression and lifting her eyebrows a fraction. Does she think he doesn’t know how much of a toll her powers take on her? Maybe not. He doesn’t exactly act like he’s paying attention most of the time.

Raven’s mask falls back into place and she nods, rising from the bed. Gar looks away as she walks toward the door, unable to watch her go but too scared to admit he doesn’t want to be alone. Too ashamed to ask her to send Vic in. He’d never look at Gar the same way after seeing him like this.

Garfield hears the door swing open, but it doesn’t shut. He glances over to see Raven standing with her hand on the doorknob and studying him. Her eyes soften when he meets them, just the smallest bit.

“You’re not alone, Gar.”

Then she’s gone.

Gar stares at the closed door. You’re not alone. Just like he told her so long ago, back when they were still kids. Before their lives got so complicated and tragic.

What did he know then?

~~~

Garfield stays in his room all day. Despite the stubborn pessimist that she is, Raven hoped he’d reach out if given a little more time and space. That he would let his friends and teammates help instead of locking them out.

Apparently, she should have stuck with pessimism.

Raven has been reading the same line over and over when Victor flops onto the other end of the couch. She doesn’t need to ask where he was.

“This won’t last forever.” She lowers her book to give Victor her best attempt at an encouraging and understanding expression. “He’ll come around.”

Vic doesn’t even look at her. The frustration in his voice isn’t quite able to mask the pain. “You sure?”

Raven doesn’t have an answer.

~~~

It’s not her place and maybe it won’t change anything, but by the time night falls she can’t stand by any longer. If he won’t come out, then she’ll come to him.

Raven steps into Garfield’s room, edging around the pile of dirty laundry. “Victor misses you.”

They all do.

He’s lying in the same position as last time, on his side with his back to the door. Watching the rain that never seems to end. “I think I’ve figured it out.”

Though he can’t see her do it, Raven lifts an eyebrow. “Figured what out?”

“Why you like to be alone. Why you like the quiet. It numbs the pain doesn’t it? Calms the storm inside.” He crosses his arms and pulls his knees to his chest. “It makes it easier not to care. It’s safer that way, isn’t it?

Raven’s skin goes cold. But this time, it’s not because of her powers. It’s fear for Garfield and the way he’s talking. “This isn’t about me. And everything you just said? That’s not you.”

Gar rolls onto his back, cloudy eyes drifting to her face. “I just wanted to say I get it now. I’m sorry I didn’t before.”

This is not a time to freeze up, or wonder why in the world Gar chose to talk to the one person in the tower who is least equipped to help him. This is not a time to wish she’d learned something other than control and magic from Azar, such as how to interact properly with others. No, this is a time for action. To do something, to say something to help her friend. And maybe it won’t help. But Victor’s words echo in her mind.

Will it hurt?

Gar blinks, jaw falling open as Raven kneels beside the bed and lays her head on her arms, tilting it sideways so that she can meet his wide green eyes from the same angle. She needs to be on his level. See things from his perspective, both literally and figuratively.

“Quiet keeps the pain from getting worse. Solitude protects others from the storm.” She shakes her head. “But neither makes it better.”

~~~

Gar has never been this close to Raven before. Even when his head was in her lap she was still “up there,” her face a good two feet away from his. There’s always been a distance between them, both physically and emotionally, one that he could never figure out how to cross.

But now they’re equal, literally seeing eye to eye. Maybe that’s why Gar finds traces of... of feeling on the face he’s always thought battled Cinderblock’s for the title of stoniest. Or maybe the traces were always there. Maybe he just didn’t understand them until now. That’s true of a lot of things, actually.

He never thought of Raven’s distance as protection, both for herself and for her friends. But betrayal and loss really change a guy’s perspective on the world. So does a walk in his teammate’s shadowy shoes and even darker mind. Not that he’d ever tell her he could feel her emotions just as well as she could his when she used her powers to lessen the pain. She’d be mortified.

“I know it’s the last thing you want right now.”

Garfield’s attention flicks back to Rae, noticing the lavender color of her eyes as she speaks.

“But come downstairs. Please.” She drops her gaze, almost… embarrassed?

“Your friends miss you. They need you.”

Need… him? Gar can’t recall anyone ever saying they needed him. During a mission, sure, “Beast Boy, we need you to turn into a dinosaur,” but that’s Beast Boy. No one has ever needed Garfield.

He lowers his ears. “You need me?”

“Yes. We’re not a team without you.”

We. She’s saying we now. And he thought she’d prefer the team without him. Guess I was wrong about a lot of things.

Raven’s voice drops, and Gar knows what she’s about to tell him is important.

“What you said before, about not caring… I’m not supposed to care. It was the one rule I made when I joined the Titans, to protect myself and the others.” She tenses her jaw. “If I didn’t care, there would be fewer emotions to keep under control. And it wouldn’t hurt when the team told me to leave after they found out what I really was.”

As if we’d ever let you leave.

“Yeah. I understand that now.” Gar swallows past the lump in his throat. “It’s pretty smart, even though we’d never do that to you.” If I hadn’t cared about Tara, then I wouldn’t be hurting like this. My heart wouldn’t be shattered on the ground.

“No.” Raven shakes her head, frustration seeping into her voice. “No, it isn’t. That’s not what I’m saying.”

Gar scrunches up his nose, baffled, and she sighs.

“I’m not explaining this right. Garfield…” Her expression softens, and the mask falls away from her face. Completely and entirely. And for the first time, Garfield sees Raven, really sees her. No walls. No sarcasm or deflection. Just Raven, real and complete.

“I do care,” she confesses. “About you, Koriand’r, Victor, and Richard.” She looks away. “I care a lot. When it comes to the team, I’ve found it’s impossible not to.” Her brow furrows. “That means I’m going to get hurt someday, one way or the other. Something terrible will happen, or someone will walk away from the team, and I’ll feel like the world is ending.”

Just like I do right now.

“But it’s a price I’m willing to pay for my friendships.”

Raven pauses. Then she speaks slowly, as if realizing how she truly feels for the first time. “They’re worth it.”

Garfield’s mind whirls, set afloat in a strange new dimension where Raven makes eloquent speeches and shares heartfelt secrets. Where she cares about even him.

“You don’t hate me.” To Gar’s complete embarrassment, his voice cracks and the waterworks start. “I-I really thought-”

Raven’s eyes widen in complete horror. “Hate you? No! You… actually thought that?”

“You told…” Gar can’t say her name, images of blood soaked bandages flashing before his eyes. His hands tremble as he clears his throat and forces himself to continue. “Y-you said you used to.”

Raven falls silent. He can almost see her working through her thoughts. He had no idea how much went on behind her blank expression.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Sometimes I’ve been annoyed or irritated by you, especially during the first year. But I’ve never hated you.” She blinks and glances away. “It’s, um… kind of impossible, actually.”

For a moment, Gar forgets that Raven is Queen of No-Hugs and throws his arms around her neck. But this alternate dimension just gets stranger when she awkwardly pats him on the back in return.

Outside, the skies open up with a loud crash as the storm that the constant rain’s been threatening to bring all week finally breaks. Raindrops pound against the window in a steady rhythm while low thunder rumbles in the background. It sounds good. It feels like a release.

“I’m not going to lie.”

Gar lets go and pulls back, watching Raven’s face as she exhales.

“It will be hard at first. You’ll feel like you’re faking it every time you do something that makes you happy. But the joy will come back.”

“How do you know?” I want to hope, Rae. I want to so badly.

“Because you’re Gar.” She says it with finality, like that’s her whole answer. No hard logic or practical attempts to convince him. Just faith that he’ll come out alright because of who he is. Faith in him. “You’re stronger than you know.”

“Okay.” Garfield watches relief flood her eyes. She… she really was worried about him. “I’ll try.”

Five minutes later, Gar slips into the living room behind Raven, feeling oddly shy and self-conscious in his own home. But that only lasts the few seconds it takes for Kori to spot him.

“Garfield!” She flies straight at him like a rocket, stopping only inches short of running into him. Her eyes shine with unshed tears and she stretches out her arms. “May I give you a hug, please?”

“Why not?” Gar shrugs, blinking to hide his own tears. For once, he doesn’t mind how bone-crushing all Starfire’s hugs are. It’s never felt so good to have someone so happy to see him again. He’s never missed his friends this much.

The sound of Kori’s excitement brings Victor rushing in, Dick close at his heels.

A relieved grin splits the cyborg’s face. “BB,” he says quietly, holding out his fist. His soft brown eyes search Garfield’s face, still lined with concern.

With a start, Gar realizes how much he scared him.

“Cy.” He taps Vic’s fist with his own. “I’m… I’m sorry, dude.”

Stepping forward, Vic wraps him in a bear hug. “Man, don’t you dare apologize.” Is that… a sniffle Gar hears? “I’ve missed you, buddy.”

“Yeah,” Gar whispers into his best friend’s sweatshirt. “Me too, bro.”

After Vic releases Gar, Dick steps forward and wraps an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a brief but sincere hug. “Good to have you back, Gar. Whatever you need, just ask. We’re behind you no matter what.”

Gar’s heart still throbs. The pain is still there. He has a feeling it will be for a long time. But as his gaze drifts from friend to friend, from teammate to teammate, he knows he’ll be okay.

His eyes land on Raven. The slightest corner of her mouth turns up and she nods, reminding him that he’s not alone. He never has been.

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2)

(Previous fic in series: Slow dancing in the Darkness)

(Next fic in series: The Sound of the Sword)

#just use the link to read the first chapter and the previous fic in the series #bbrae #beast boy #raven #garfield logan #teen titans #teen titans animated #teen titans animated series #mine #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #writing #hurt/comfort

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sergeantsporks · 3 years

Text

Whatever It Takes

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

TW: Self-harm, attempted suicide, emotional manipulation

“While I’ve got you here, want to hear the complete history of wild magic? I’m sure you’ll find it very interesting, considering that you’re old enough to have lived through it.”

“I am not, you little brat. Shut your mouth, I don’t want to listen to your voice.” “Yeah? What if I don’t want to shut up? What if I feel like singing?"

Hunter is a difficult prisoner to keep, and Lilith and Eda are about to find that out the hard way.

Ao3

Ch 2/4: Prisoner

Ch 1

Eda perched on a chair, watching her new prisoner. “When do you think he’ll wake up?”

Lilith finished tying Hunter to a chair with a roll of her eyes. “If I hit him hard enough, not for a while.”

“Should we… try to wake him up?”

“Titan’s veins, Edalyn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this anxious before.”

“I’ve never kept a coven head tied up in my basement before!” Eda peered at him. “What does he even eat?”

“Nothing. He photosynthesizes. I don’t know, Eda, probably the same thing we eat. He’s a witch, after all.”

“He’s a powerless witch. What if they have human diets?”

“I—this is ridiculous. Keeping prisoners isn’t that scary, I’ll walk you through it.”

Eda squinted at her sister. “Oh, yeah. Sometimes I forget that you were…” she rolled a hand. “A horrible person.”

“Hmph.”

Hunter groaned, and Eda grinned. “Guess you didn’t hit him hard enough.”

Hunter’s eyes shot open, and he glanced around wildly, kicking his feet and straining against his bonds. “Wha—where-?”

His kicking knocked over the chair, and he fell backwards with a crash. “Ow.”

Eda snorted. “Behold, the mighty head of the emperor’s coven.”

“Oh, great. It’s you.”

Eda picked the chair up, flicking Hunter’s head. “YYYYYep. Nice to see you too, nerd.”

He shook his head, as if trying to clear it. “Ugh—Darius! What happened to him?! Where’d he go?!”

Lilith studied her nails. “He left you high and dry. He didn’t care if we captured or killed you. You know how it is.”

“Is this the part where you try to convince me to, as we say in the coven, pull a Lilith, betray the emperor horribly, and end up sad and lonely?”

“They do not say that!”

“I don’t want you on our side,” Eda interrupted, shooting her sister a “don’t react” look, “I wouldn’t trust you for a second. I want you to tell me what happened to Raine Whispers.”

Hunter leaned back as best he could while tied up, looking bored. “The emperor killed them slowly and painfully. Next question?”

Eda’s heart stuttered dangerously in her chest. “Liar,” she snarled, “Your precious emperor hasn’t appointed a new coven head yet—so Raine’s still alive. Where are they?!”

Hunter clicked his tongue. “Let’s see… coven head prisoner, coven head prisoner, mmmmmm doesn’t ring any bells.”

Lilith put a hand on Eda’s shoulder as she growled. “Oh, Hunter. Your bravado isn’t fooling anyone. You know how the emperor’s coven works as well as I. No one is coming for you. There is no holding out until rescue, because there will be no rescue. Don’t make this harder on yourself than it has to be—who are you even keeping quiet for? An emperor who doesn’t care enough about you to come for you? Just tell us what you know about the bard coven head.”

He rocked back and forth in the chair, looking up at the ceiling, unconcerned. “Or what? You’ll torture me?”

Lilith raised an eyebrow. “If that’s what you want.” She turned to go. “Excuse me. I need to gather a few things.” She strode back up the basement stairs, leaving Eda and Hunter alone.

Eda rocked back and forth on her heels. “So… how’s that portal coming along? Got enough titan’s blood?

“I’m not telling you that.”

“Mmm.” Eda clicked her tongue. What did Lilith need that was taking this long? “Soooooo… what now?”

“This is the first time you’ve taken a prisoner, isn’t it.”

“No!”

“Uh-huh. Alright. While I’ve got you here, want to hear the complete history of wild magic? I’m sure you’ll find it very interesting, considering that you’re old enough to have lived through it.”

“I am not, you little brat. Shut your mouth, I don’t want to listen to your voice.”

“Yeah? What if I don’t want to shut up? What if I feel like singing? Oh titan’s heart, oh titan’s heart,” he started howling in an off-key voice, “we the covens are loyal to thee!”

“UUUUUGH,” Eda groaned, “Stop that, or I’m going to gag you!”

“We pledge our lives, our magics, our hearts to yours! When you call, we heed your voice!”

Eda stormed up the stairs, slamming the door behind her. “That kid is the most annoying creature in existence!” Her sister was lying on the couch, reading a book, and Eda leaned on the back of the couch, looking down at her. “What are you doing? I thought you were getting something?”

“No. I just want him to think I am. Let him sweat and squirm. Let him think about all of the horrible things I might be planning to do to him.”

“Let him freak himself out. Devious, Lili.”

“Oh, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Let him imagine the worst. But now that you’ve come up, too, we can just… leave him.”

“I’m not sure how that—”

“Leave him alone long enough, and he’ll start to wonder if we’re coming back. He’ll start to wonder if we had to leave for some reason, and we left him. He’ll start thinking that if we did have to leave, there’s no one to let him out. That he’s trapped down there. At first he’ll tell himself not to worry, that we’ll come back down for him eventually. Then, as time wears on, and he has no idea how long it’s been, he’ll start calling for help, thinking we’re gone.”

“And that’s when we go down?” Eda interjected, “When he’ll be happy to see us?”

“No, Edalyn. We wait for him to stop calling. We wait for him to give up, thinking that no one will come for him. We let him wallow in the fear that he’ll starve down there, tied up, and then, then we return.”

Eda scooted away from her sister. “… have I ever mentioned how incredibly glad I am that you changed sides?”

“You could stand to mention it more.”

“You’re not gonna… actually torture him, are you?”

“Physically? I wasn’t planning on it, no, why, do you want me to?”

“Titan! Lilith, no!”

Lilith shrugged. “To each their own. He’s probably not feeling too well—a blow to the head is no joke, and neither was that spell he took for Darius. He’ll spill.”

“He seemed fine to me. Just as annoying as ever.”

“It’s an act. Bravado. He’s hurt, he was just flat-out betrayed and abandoned by the person he was protecting, and he’s captured with no hope of rescue, because he knows that’s not how the emperor’s coven works. He’s a resilient pest, but all of that will take its toll quickly. Give him a few hours, and he’ll crack.” Lilith hesitated. “But… Eda… about rescuing Raine, should they still be alive…”

“What?”

“I’m just… not entirely certain it’s the best plan.”

“I can’t just leave them!”

“I know you don’t want to, but… we have the upper hand over Belos at the moment. We have his right hand, a coven leader, in our grasp. We’ve put his day of unity plans to a grinding halt. We go running off on a hare-brained rescue mission? If one of us gets caught, it’s all over.”

A new plan quietly clicked into place in Eda’s head. “We have the coven head. We have the right hand of Belos. Why not make a trade? His precious golden brat for Raine! Either way, we end up with a coven head, so we won’t be giving up our advantage, but this way, we’ll have Raine, who will fight with us, instead of the brat tied up in my basement!”

Lilith sat bolt upright on the couch. “Are you insane?” she hissed, “You want to try to ransom him back?! Edalyn, an attempt to negotiate with the emperor will go very, very badly! Let’s say we achieve the best case scenario, let’s say Belos agrees to the trade and we get Raine back. The emperor will not stop hunting us down. When I was attempting to capture you, it was just that—capture. If you try to make a deal, trade hostages? Belos will want you dead. Even having kidnapped the golden guard is risky—for now, Hunter could be anywhere, no one knows we took him. But if Belos finds out? We may as well start writing our obituaries now.”

“Fine.” Eda growled in frustration. “It’s just—I don’t want to leave them, if they are alive! It just doesn’t feel right.”

“I know. We just have to be patient. And after the Day of Unity passes, we can go after them. I promise I will help you retrieve Raine.”

“Helloooooo?” Hunter’s voice called up from the basement, “Are we gonna get this interrogation going, or what? I’ve got places to be!”

Lilith motioned for Eda to stay quiet. “Here we go,” she whispered.

“Traitor? Crazy owl lady? You there?”

Eda head a scraping noise, as if Hunter was dragging the chair he was tied to across the floor. There was a pause, then, “Titan, there’s stairs. Helloooooo?” Another pause. “Okay, I’m going to escape now! Anyone up there to stop me? No? Okay!”

“Should we go down there?” Eda murmured to Lilith. Her sister shook her head.

“He can’t get out of that chair, you heard him about the stairs.”

“I mean it! I’m breaking out of here! Oh, look, I’ve got the ropes off! No? Nobody?” Then, a little more quietly, “Guess they’re gone.”

Eda heard a lot of thumping, and then an ‘ow.’ She snorted softly. “Sounds like he’s knocked himself over again.”

Lilith pulled her away from the basement door and into the kitchen. “Give him a bit.” She started flipping through one of Eda’s potion books. “Any chance one of these has a truth potion recipe in here?”

“No, but I think there’s a knockout potion somewhere. If he keeps trying to sing, I might use it.”

Lilith snorted. “Right. I’ll go ahead and brew that. Forget feeding it to him, if I have to talk to him for much longer, I’m going to want it for myself. Where do you keep your sleeping nettles?”

“Cupboard by the trashcan, do NOT let Hooty know where they are.” Eda paced the kitchen. “What if he is in the middle of escaping?”

“He’s concussed, has short little legs and no staff. He won’t get far.”

Eda snapped her fingers. “No staff! Where’s his little palisman, I didn’t see it!”

Lilith stopped mid-stir. “Palisman?! Him?!”

“Yeah, he has a little cardinal palisman.”

“Belos hates wild magic! Do you know what it took for me to keep a hold of my palisman?! You’re telling me that Hunter hasn’t just got a palisman, he’s hiding it from Belos?”

“I guess. What’s the big deal?”

Lilith laughed. “Oh, he is in for it when Belos finds out! See if he’s still the favorite then!”

“…Lili, you’re not in the emperor’s coven anymore.”

Her sister resumed stirring her potion. “I know that.”

“And we aren’t going to use Hunter’s palisman as leverage against him, okay? I want more info about Raine, but I’m not going to threaten an innocent palisman to get it.”

“Fine.” Lilith set her spoon down. “I think it’s about time we check in on him. Let’s see how much he’s panicking.

When they got down the basement stairs, Hunter was asleep. Eda snorted, setting the chair upright again. “So much for that idea.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Lilith growled.

Hunter opened his eyes with a smug look that Eda was relatively certain meant he’d never actually been asleep. “Oh, hey, when did you guys get here? Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

Lilith lunged towards Hunter, and Eda had to hold her back. “You are a horrible, conniving little brat, and if I never saw you again, I could die happy!”

“Oooo, might want to watch that temper, Lilith, isn’t that how you got beaten by your sister so many times?”

Lilith’s nostrils flared, and she stopped trying to get past Eda, taking a deep breath and smoothing her hair. “Laugh all you want, brat. I may be out of the coven, but at least I chose to go. Unlike you.”

“I’m not leaving the coven. I’m going to get out of here, and I’m going to go back, and y’know what, I’m going to drag both of you with me, and this time we’ll finish the petrification process.”

Lilith chuckled. “Oh, Hunter. You don’t really think you can go back, do you? Not after you failed like this.”

For the first time since he’d gotten here, fear flashed in Hunter’s eyes. “I didn’t fail,” he said defensively, “Darius got away—I protected him from your assassination plot. I completed my mission—you failed.”

“But you were captured,” Lilith said softly, leaning in close to him, “Of course you carried out your mission—but you’ve still failed the emperor. You lost. To us. How humiliating.”

“I only lost because that coward Darius used me as a meat shield,” Hunter snarled, “It wasn’t my fault!”

Lilith laughed softly, pulling away. “Do you really think the emperor will accept that excuse? You know as well as I that you cannot blame others for your own mediocracy.”

The shift in Hunter’s attitude… Eda wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Lilith had gone from dancing to Hunter’s tune and rising to his taunts to playing the flute herself. Hunter was a marionette on her strings. She grabbed her sister’s arm. “Hey, Lili? A word?”

She pulled Lilith upstairs, shutting the door so that Hunter couldn’t hear them. “What was that?!” she hissed.

“I know how the emperor’s coven works. I know how Belos works. I know how he treats people—you could hurt Hunter physically all you wanted, and he wouldn’t give up anything.”

“So you play mind games with him, Lili? That’s just cruel. Did you see his face when you said he’d failed Belos? That wasn’t just worry, that was terror. You really freaked him out, and I don’t like how you’re going about this.”

Lilith pointed at the door. “I’ve seen hardened demons break down at the idea that they’ve been left locked up with no hope of anyone ever coming for them. Do you want to know why it didn’t work on him, Eda? Because he was trained in the exact same torture methods I was. He’s the head of the emperor’s coven at age sixteen. Do you know how you get there? It isn’t by being an innocent kid, I can tell you that. Neither of us could kill him. But he’s dangerous, and Belos is the only one who could ever keep him in control. You heard him! He would drag us to our own petrification in a heartbeat! So if I have to invoke his fear of Belos to keep him from hurting you or I, I will!”

“Lilith—”

“When you first met him, he threatened King to get you and Luz to do what he wanted. He is not some cute little witchling who will roll over for belly rubs, he’s a lethal, dangerously unstable individual who is dead loyal to Belos and will stop at nothing to please him.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. It still doesn’t feel right, Lilith. And I don’t think it’ll make him crack.”

“Oh, please, he was about to be putty in my hands.”

“You make him scared of what Belos will do to him because he failed? He’ll just start thinking about how much worse it will be for him if he gives up information. No more head games, Lilith. I don’t like it, and I don’t like how much you’re acting like you did when you were in the coven.”

“Yes, because it’s effective. Good luck getting any information out of him.”

Eda grabbed her sister’s hands. “I don’t want to win by losing you. I’m not going to risk you reverting to your coven ways like that—you’ve come so far, and it’s not fair to put you in a situation where you’ll backslide.” Eda squeezed her eyes shut, turning her face away. “You were right. Raine will have to wait.” It felt like a betrayal just saying it, but she couldn’t say anything else—Raine had risked everything to make sure that she, at least, could get away. Throwing that away based off of information they got from Hunter of all people would be disrespectful of their sacrifice. “We just need to ride out this storm. No more interrogations—we’re not going to just let him go, but we’re not going to hurt him, either. Okay?”

“If that’s what you want.”

Eda plucked a feather off of her sister’s arm. “This isn’t helping you—it’s making you worse. So trust me, Lilith—it is what I want.”

Xxx

Darius growled, kicking at a burned clump of vines. Of course the Golden Guard wasn’t here—he hadn’t really expected him to be, but it would have been nice. Right. Well, he could do a grueling search of the area—or worse, call in Eberwolf to help track the Golden Guard down.

Oooooor he could interrogate the last people to have seen him—his would-be assassins. He hadn’t seen their faces—the smokescreen had ensured that. But he had thought he’d heard a familiar voice.

Darius turned towards the Clawthorne estate. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Ch 3

#toh #the owl house #toh fanfiction #toh hunter #edalyn clawthorn #lilith clawthorne #my writing

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halcyonstorm · 3 years

Link

Ahhh my final submission for LH drabble week: Angst Monday (yes i posted it on a tuesday)! Please enjoy and comment your thoughts and feedback. @levihan-drabbles

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman & Hange Zoë Characters: Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoë Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Shingeki no Kyojin Chapter 126: Pride Spoilers, Shingeki no Kyojin Chapter 126: Pride, Shingeki no Kyojin Chapter 132: Wings of Freedom Spoilers, Angst and Feels, right person wrong time, What-If Series: Part 8 of Short Fics Summary:

They just wanted an ending.

The sound of the shotgun rang in Hange’s ears as she shot two of her ex-soldiers dead, tears trickling down her face. She hated that it had to end up like this. She had known them personally, too. The whole world was against them. She took a deep sigh. After surveying the forest and deeming it safe, she returned back to Levi’s side. He was unconscious with Hange’s Survey Corps cloak wrapped around his face. Her heart ached when she started unraveling the cloak, exposing his injured, tainted face. The biggest scar ran from the top of his forehead, through his right eye, into his cheek. She felt herself get overwhelmed seeing him in this shape.

“The pursuers are all gone, Levi…” It’s safe, for now, she wanted to say. You’re safe with me. She knew this was temporary, though. They would never truly be safe again.

Hange had begun to set up camp. She pitched a tent, chopped at trees and gathered sticks to start a fire and was able to clean Levi’s wounds and body. He could develop an infection if she didn’t act fast. After all, she wasn’t sure how long he’d been face down in the mud unconscious. She started with his hand, using a wet cloth to clean the dirt as gently as she possibly could. Then, she wrapped his exposed wound, starting at his wrist and weaving the bandage around the empty space on his hand. She brought his hand to her lips and placed a gentle kiss on top. It broke her heart to see him in such critical condition.

After his hand, she tended to his face. She dampened her cloth in the basin of water, slowly and gently caressing his face to clean off the dirt and mud. She took this moment to indulge in admiring him. He looked peaceful, at least for that moment. She brushed his raven black hair out of his face, patting his gash with the cloth, blood crusted on the scar. His skin was smooth as she couldn’t resist the urge to touch his cheek with the back of her hand. His eyelashes were long and straight which she never noticed before. She had never been this close to him before. She made her way down his face to his lips. She dunked the cloth in the basin again, wringing it out, and then dabbed at his lips to cleanse them. As she cleaned him, she felt tears well up in her eyes.

“The fact that you're still alive with these wounds is because you’re an Ackerman,” she determined, starting to sterilize her needles in the fire. She grabbed the thread and started to stitch his face. She was careful, making sure to only go as deep as she needed to avoid causing more pain. Her heart throbbed in her chest when she imagined how much pain he was in. I wish it were me instead. She thought. After carefully poking and prodding at his face, stitching him up as well as she could, she dumped her tools into a pot of boiling water to be cleansed. She ran a hand through her hair, gripping a chunk of it and squeezing, tempted to pull it out. She felt like she was going to explode. After everything her and Eren had been through, he still turned his back on her and her soldiers. Rage boiled up inside her, poisoning every cell in her body.

Why couldn’t things be different? She’d ask herself.

“I’d rather the two of us just live here. Right, Levi?” She said softly aloud, turning to look at Levi’s unconscious face. Her selfish ideas spilled from her mouth and into the ears of her partner. She truly wanted to live with him. She wanted a life with him. She wanted to wake up with him every morning, make him tea, explore the forest, forget about the shitty world they were born into for even just a moment. She was grateful he was unconscious and couldn’t hear her. She allowed the tears to flow for just a brief period. No one was around, she was safe to let it go. Her exhale was shaky as her throat tightened. She blinked and hot tears came rushing down. She covered her face with her hands, allowing herself to cry. Not just cry… to sob. Her heart felt as if it was being torn apart strand by strand. Like someone physically shoved their hands inside her chest, pulling it apart. She felt a strong urge to scream, but she covered her mouth tightly with her hand, allowing a few moans to escape.

All she wanted was peace. She wanted all the suffering to end. She wanted Levi to be healthy and happy. She wanted to explore the world with him, try new things with him. There was so much she wanted to do couldn’t, and she knew that. When she joined the Survey Corps, she knew what she signed up for. She wasn’t afraid to die for the cause, but she just wanted Levi to be happy. She knew how deeply he had suffered. He lost his mother, Isabel, Farlan, Gunther, Eld, Petra, Oulo, Mike, Erwin, and countless more soldiers. She would do everything in her power to make him happy and not just survive but to truly live.

Later that evening, she began to work on building the cart to carry Levi. She contemplated carrying him on her back, but it was unrealistic. She was strong, but not strong enough to carry him for possibly days on end. She was working on hammering a nail into the wheel when there was a crash of lightning. Suddenly, she was knelt in soft, white sand. The sky shone turquoise behind her. She placed her makeshift hammer down, leaving an imprint on the sand. She put her hands on the ground to help her stand up. That is where she saw a familiar tall man with his dark brown hair tied in a knot. He was facing away from her, sitting in the sand with his knees to his chest. She slowly walked up to him, sand filling her shoes.

“Eren?” The man turned his head to face Hange. She is hesitant to sit down, but he waves her over to him.

“Hange-san,” he began. “I am sorry for everything.”

“Wh… What are you talking about?”

“You’re going to die soon,” he admitted, drawing circles in the sand. “Levi will try to stop you, but you can’t let him.”

“I don’t understand… how do you know all this?”

“This is all a part of my plan to eradicate the Titans…” he muttered. “But I am sorry it has to end this way. I know how much you and Levi care for each other. It will be painful, I will admit. But it is for a good cause.”

Hange shook her head in confusion. “What the hell? What will happen to Levi? Isn’t there another way?”

“No… There's no other way. Levi will be survive in the end. Don’t worry about that.” He had already made up his mind. “I am sorry. Go inside. Levi is waiting for you.” As Eren spoke, he pointed into the distance. Suddenly, they weren’t in the sand staring at the turquoise sky anymore. They were in a similar forest with tall pine trees. There was a small cabin with smoke exiting through the chimney. The cabin looked like it was something Hange and Levi could’ve made themselves. She opened the door hesitantly to find Levi sitting in the rocking chair, a cup of hot tea in his hand.

“Hange, you’re home,” Levi said, pleasantly surprised. She noticed his scar was present, clean and healed. He didn’t wear an eyepatch like she did. His right eye was white and cloudy. He stood up slowly, placed his tea cup in the tea dish, and walked towards her. She was able to admire his outfit. He wasn’t in his military gear, but in a beige sweater and grey trousers. He looked comfortable and at peace, which is what Hange always wanted for him. She was at a loss for words.

“What is this?”

“This is the most I can give you, Hange-san. A life with Levi.” She felt tears well up in her eyes. “I can let you stay here a little while longer.” Eren disappeared when she looked back to where she heard his voice. She looked at Levi, placing her hands on his cheeks. Levi’s lips curled into a small, sad smile.

“Look at our house, Hange,” he said, gesturing towards the center of the room. She looked away from him to admire the house. Their house. It was very cozy: it had two large burgundy sofas against the back and right wall, a fireplace in the center of the living room which had fierce flames. Levi led her to the kitchen and dining room. The kitchen had off-white square tiles as the floor and wooden cabinets, as well as a stove. There was a wooden table with two chairs. It made Hange’s heart swell, even bringing tears to her eyes. They did get to live together in another life.

“Levi…” she whimpered, looking at him again. He grabbed her hand, interlocking their fingers.

“We’ll be here again, one day…” Levi said. Suddenly, she felt a breeze flow through her hair. Then, the house started to fade into nothingness and blow away. Levi was the last to disappear. Hange felt herself reaching out and grasping for him, begging him to come back.

Then, she was back to reality; hammer in hand, arm in the air, ready to swing.

What just happened? She asked herself. She felt as if she had taken a long nap, dreaming of a place so distant. She swore she had a dream, but it was long forgotten, deep in her unconscious mind. A tear was streaming down her face, her heart pounding in her chest, as if she just woke up from a nightmare.

“Don’t tell me… Eren… the world…” she muttered. The words came spewing out of her mouth for a reason unknown to her. “LEVI!” She turned to look at her partner only to find out he’d woken up. He was attempting to sit up.

“That damned beast titan…” he groaned, pain overwhelming him.

“You don’t need to get up,” Hange insisted, placing her hands gently on his chest. He eased back to his previous supine position. “What happened?” He briefly explained what happened, how Zeke was prepared to die for the cause. Hange sighed. She could barely handle the thought of what happened. She did hear the thunder spear go off, after all… She felt guilt tug at her damaged heart. Maybe she could’ve prevented it.

“I know you’re full of regret, but for now…” She was interrupted.

“What's left if we run and hide like this?” Levi asked, looking her in the eyes so fiercely she couldn’t look away. She felt her face turn red and hot.

“So, you heard my soliloquy, huh…” She mustered up the strength to look away. She was embarrassed, but then she realized he didn’t reject her. He said ‘what if we run away and hide like this?’ Him, her, together. He looked past her shoulder.

“What is that? Are you planning to pull me by horse? I know you, you aren’t able to stay out of the action…” She noticed his eyes were starting to appear wet… was he tearing up?

“That’s right. I can’t.” Hange sighed, looking into her lap.

The two knew what was to come; Hange and Levi knew what was coming from the moment they joined the Survey Corps. Duty first. Love second. They yearned to be together, but they knew that they had met each other at the worst time. Perhaps in another life, they would find peace. They would find freedom from this terrible world and find comfort in each other. They just wanted an ending. An ending to the war, an ending to the suppression of true emotions, an ending to the strain on their hearts since the first day of joining the military. They didn’t care where or how, as long as it was an ending together.

#levihan #levihan fic #levihan angst #chapter 126 #chapter 132 #aot #snk #aot fic #snk fic #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe

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afewnovelideas · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story, DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics), Young Justice (Comics), Robin (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Kyubey (PMMM), Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Selina Kyle Additional Tags: Tim Drake-centric, Tim Drake is Robin, Tim Drake is Not Okay, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Alternate Universe - Madoka Magica Fusion, Soul Gems (Madoka Magica), Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Magical Boys, Origin Story, No Beta We Die Like Mami, Don't Have to Know Madoka Magica Canon, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent Series: Part 1 of Eques Magi: Originem - Magicka Knights: Origin Summary:

"The Labyrinths of Gotham City are so tightly concentrated, no human born here can escape the influence of at least one or two Witches, if not more. Despite the aura of despair and the constant work of the Witches' various Familiars, there are still those souls who persist in clinging to hope and will do whatever they can to try and make this city a better place, even though all their efforts will ultimately fail in the end.

"It's the perfect environment to find a new Magicka Knight."

---

"Have you ever seen an albino cat?"

Catwoman, aka Selina Kyle, glanced over at Batman's newest Robin curiously. She hadn't been expecting to cross paths with him, but since it was obvious the Big Bad Bat was out of town and Nightwing hadn't shown up at all in the past week, she decided to keep an eye on the new kid for at least the evening. He certainly wasn't like the previous Robin. This thirteen-year-old boy was quiet and thoughtful, which had been quite a change from the previous brash impulsive kid Batman had been mentoring a little over a year ago before they were murdered by the Joker.

She also noticed that this Robin was glancing over his shoulder at something on the rooftop on the other side of the street. "An albino, huh?" she said as she tried to follow his gaze. However, despite using her binoculars to zoom in on the far rooftop, she couldn't see any sign of any animal, feline, albino, or otherwise. "I've heard of them, but never seen one in person," Selina admitted casually as she put away her binoculars. "They are extremely rare." She smiled at Robin. "Have you seen one around town?"

Robin leaned against his bo staff thoughtfully. "I think so, but I'm not really sure."

"Not sure?"

The boy looked up at Selina earnestly. "Y'know how a cat has two pointed ears about here?" Amusingly to the professional cat burglar, Robin made a vague pair of cat-ear shapes with his hand at the top of his head. She smiled affectionately.

"Yeah. It's kind of a defining cat trait, having pointy ears."

Robin pouted slightly at the teasing tone he caught in Catwoman's voice. Then he continued. "Well... This cat I've been seeing... It looks like they have a second set of ears too."

"A second set?"

He nodded. He made a motion with his hands that seemed to make another vague shape that started at the base of where the cat's ears ought to be and downward along either side of its head. "Yeah. They kinda start out here and go all the way down there."

"Are you sure what you're looking at is an albino 'cat'? That kinda sounds more like a white rabbit to me."

"But it has pointy ears like a cat," Robin argued. "And its got a long fluffy tail, and its legs are like a cat's." The young teenager frowned slightly. "It's really weird looking."

"Well it does sound like a unique creature, whatever it is," Selina said thoughtfully. "Maybe it's some sort of cryptid or mutant? This is Gotham after all." She smiled at Robin. "Tell ya what. If you can catch a photo of the critter, I promise I'll take a good hard look and let you know if it's a cat, a rabbit, or something completely different." Then she gave him an almost stern maternal look. "But be careful. Don't get too close. If it does turn out to be something 'not normal', it could be dangerous."

"Okay."

---

It was two nights later and Tim Drake, fully decked out as Robin for another solo patrol, had just finished trussing up a pair of would-be carjackers. As soon as he placed the anon call to the Gotham PD for pickup, he glanced up to fire his grapple gun and froze.

There, on the rooftop above him, was a familiar white shape with two sets of ears and red eyes. The "cat" was peering down. He could see the animal's long fluffy tail swishing this way and that. Tim's breath caught in his throat. This was the closest he'd ever seen the animal come to him before. Rather than risk his grapple gun startling the animal and scaring it away, the young vigilante quickly indulged in some impromptu parkour up a garbage bin and a chain link fence to reach the metal fire escape attached to the side of the building.

When he pulled himself on the rooftop, Tim was disappointed to find that it appeared to be empty. Not a trace of red eyes or white fur anywhere. He walked across the roof slowly, scanning the area for any sign of the small creature as he pulled out a small portable camera from his utility belt. "Hey there," he whispered softly. "Here kitty, kitty, kitty. I'm not going to hurt you. C'mon out please. I just wanna take a picture."

When no one came out of hiding, Tim tried a different tactic. He reached into another pouch on his belt and pulled out a small package of beef jerky. He shook the bag temptingly before opening it and setting it on the ground before stepping away from it. "Got some food here if you want. All for you."

"Thank you, but no. I'm not hungry."

Tim froze. Then he glanced around himself as quickly as he could before zeroing in on the form of the albino "cat" sitting on top of a large A/C unit just a few yards away from him, its white body practically glowing against the cloudy night sky of Gotham City. This close, Tim could see this was not a normal "cat". It did appear to have two sets of ears, but the two longer rabbit-like ones had golden rings attached to them and were tipped in pink with red spots. Its tail also appeared to be unnaturally long as it swished back and forth casually.

"Did you... just... talk?"

The cat-like creature flicked its smaller pointy ears. "Of course I did!" it said in a childlike voice without moving its mouth at all. Its long white tail finally stopped swishing and settled into a question mark shape behind it. "How else am I supposed to introduce myself?"

---

Tim Drake gave up caffeine for the rest of the week. When the boy returned to the Cave from patrol and declared that he was quitting cold turkey, Alfred asked about it curiously. All the old butler got from the thirteen year old was a confusingly vague answer about talking albino cats with pink ears and clearly not enough sleep with too much stress before marching himself into the showers before he would make his eventual way back to his bedroom.

---

Unfortunately for Tim, giving up his favorite sodas, teas, and coffee did not stop the appearances of the strange cat-like hallucination that had introduced itself as "Kyubey" and seemed hell bent on following him and talking to him both day and night, in and out of uniform.

"You think I'm a figment of your imagination?"

Tim sighed as he reached over the creature sitting in his high school locker in order to grab his workbooks for math and english. "I'm not talking to you here," he whispered as he slammed the locker door in hopes of locking the hallucination behind it.

"It's probably better that you don't, at least not out loud," Kyubey agreed, after reappearing on the top of the locker to look down on Tim. "If people catch you talking to something they can't see, they might think you're losing your mind."

Somehow, Tim managed to choke down the near hysterical giggle that wanted to bubble up at that matter-of-fact remark. Kyubey had made it quite clear that night on the rooftop that no one else could see them except Tim.

"Besides, why waste your breath?" Kyubey said as they trotted along the top of the lockers, keeping pace with Tim as he walked to his next class. "We can speak telepathically just fine."

Tim paused at the end of the lockers and glanced at Kyubey. "Telepathically?" he asked experimentally without voicing the word.

"See! Easy!"

"Oh my god, I AM losing my mind," he thought with a grimace before sighing and stepping into the classroom and tried to ignore Kyubey as best he could for the rest of his school day.

---

"So why are you here?" Tim finally asked Kyubey after tossing down his pencil and finally giving up on trying to concentrate on his homework. "What is my subconscious trying to tell me?"

"I'm not your subconscious, and I'm not a hallucination. I'm a messenger of magic."

Tim raised his eyebrows at Kyubey as he echoed incredulously, "A messenger of magic?"

The cat-like creature made themself comfortable on Tim's bed. "That's right."

The teen noted with a slight measure of concern that he could see the disturbance Kyubey's form made on his pillow and blanket, proving that, at least right now, they had a solid physical state. Still, he was not about to reach out and try to touch the creature. "I'm probably going to regret asking this, but why is a 'messenger of magic' in Gotham City, and why am I the only one who can see and speak with you?"

"I'm on a mission to find people with the potential to become Magicka Knights to fight Witches and save the Universe, and you have that potential."

"Seriously? Magical knights? Actual witches?" Tim shook his head as he scoffed lightly. "This sounds like the plot of some generic magical girl anime."

Kyubey titled their head to one side. "And you and your mentor go out at night in masks to fight criminals who can control plants, have freeze guns, are living clay, and are occasionally half reptiles. How is that more believable than Magicka Knights and Witches?"

Tim snickered awkwardly. "I guess I'm in no position to throw stones in glass houses."

"You really aren't."

---

Finally! Bruce was back from his Justice League mission and he was going to go out on patrol with Tim. Batman and Robin flying through Gotham City for the first time in over two weeks.

At least that was the plan until a call came through from Oracle barely an hour into their patrol.

"A report of potential Joker gas exposure has been put out by the GCPD in Chinatown near the Dragon's Den."

Batman and Robin paused on the roof of St. Peter's Cathedral. Tim felt a weight settle in the pit of his stomach as he took in the tightness of his mentor's jawline. He knew what was coming next.

"Go home, Robin."

"But B--"

"It's the Joker. I need to handle this alone."

"You don't have to. I can stay out of the way and watch your back. Make sure no one gets the drop on you."

Batman shook his head. "Head back to the Cave, Robin."

The leather of Robin's gloves creaked a little as he clenched his hand into a fist and turned away from his mentor. "Fine."

Without even looking, Tim could tell when he was left alone on the cathedral's roof with just the gargoyles for company.

Then, he wasn't alone.

"He doesn't trust you?"

Tim looked up to see Kyubey sitting on the head of a nearby gargoyle. He sighed. "It's not like that," he said telepathically. No need to risk Oracle or Agent A overhearing him talking to Kyubey. Not like the mic would pick up the magical creature's voice anyways. Still, better safe than sorry. "The Joker is really dangerous. He killed the Robin who came before me. B just doesn't want to risk me being anywhere near him."

Suddenly, Tim heard a pinging from his comm link, a sign that Oracle was attempting to signal him. "Yes O?"

"I know B ordered you home, but do you think you could swing by Amusement Mile along the way? I got a report on a Mad Hatter sighting there."

Tim brightened visibly at the prospect. "Sure!" He reached for his grapple gun and loaded a cartridge. "Any idea what he's up to?"

"There have been earlier reports over the last few months of missing girls fitting the Hatter's preferred victim profile. Children with long blond hair under the age of twelve. But since the children are usually street kids or runaways, most attempts to investigate by the police have been half-hearted at best. Those that have tried haven't found anything but dead ends."

"Well, that's going to come to a stop tonight." Tim declared confidently.

"Be careful Robin," Oracle warned. "Focus on recon tonight. Don't engage Hatter unless absolutely necessary."

"Understood!"

---

"What's this?"

At Amusement Mile, Tim was just in time to stop a kidnapping in progress. While the sudden appearance of Robin was enough to send the Mad Hatter scurrying away into the shadows, the young vigilante reluctantly let him go in favor of caring for the victim, a child of eight or nine who appeared to be in a catatonic state.

However, nothing Tim did seemed to be able to wake her up. He was about to notify O to call an ambulance when he noticed a small red mark, like a tattoo, on the girl's neck, right above her pulse point. It was about the size of a quarter and looked like the symbol used in chess to designate the Queen piece.

"Hey O. I found a weird tattoo on the girl. Sending you a pic now." Tim quickly snapped a photo and sent it electronically to Oracle. A moment later, he got a response.

"Are you sure you sent me the right photo?"

"What do you mean?"

"There's no tattoo in the pic. All I see is a bare neck."

Tim opened the monitor of his camera and his eyes went wide. Even on the camera, the girl's neck had no tattoo. He took several more pics to be sure, but despite being able to see the crown icon with his own eyes, they defied being photographed.

"Not sure what's going on, but I can't take a pic of it," he told Oracle. "Maybe it's some sort of weird ink that comes up invisible on cameras?"

"That's not it."

Tim glanced at Kyubey, who was sitting beside the girl. The white creature sniffed at the tattoo. "That's a Witch's Kiss."

He felt his chest tighten a bit at Kyubey's words. Tim carefully masked the sudden nervousness he felt in his voice. "Can you call an ambulance to pick up the girl? I'm going to investigate the area and try to find out where Hatter ran off to."

"Will do. Be careful."

Once the comm was silenced again and after the EMTs came to pick up the rescued child, Robin backed into a secluded alleyway and hid within the shadows before addressing Kyubey telepathically.

"What's a Witch's Kiss?"

"It's a mark used by Witches and familiars to control the minds of their prey."

Tim felt a shiver run down his spine. Still he continued. "Is... the Mad Hatter a Witch?"

Kyubey tilted their head thoughtfully before shaking in the negative. "No. I think he's just a familiar being used to bring humans to a Witch's Labyrinth."

"Why? Why would a Witch want a human child?"

Kyubey sighed. "A Witch is a creature that feeds on misery and sadness," they said very matter-of-factly. "What could be more delicious to a Witch than the grief and fear of a kidnapped child? At least this one seems to prefer the despair of children in particular."

A sudden sensation of dread settled over Tim. "That's.... That's horrible! We can't let this continue!"

"But you can't stop them."

"Why not?" Tim's righteous indignation flared up. "Batman's stopped the Mad Hatter dozens of times. Why can't I?"

"Most likely it's because your mentor has never captured him near his Witch, and never within an actual Labyrinth." Kyubey stared at Tim with their round red eyes, their stoic tone never wavering. "You're just a human being, and so is he under all that armor. Even with all your training, there's no way your frail human bodies can endure the strain of fighting a Witch and their familiars in their own Labyrinth. If you get trapped in a Labyrinth, there's no way out until either the Witch is dead or you are."

Tim watched the retreating lights of the ambulance carrying the nearly kidnapped child away. Then he took a deep breath and released it slowly.

"Can you help me find the Witch's Labyrinth?"

"I can."

---

He was going to die.

Tim leaned against the wall and watched helplessly as his blood flowed freely from beneath and between his fingers to pool on the floor under him despite the pressure he tried to keep on the wound in his stomach. The Witch's familiars, not just the Mad Hatter, but a March Hare and other fictional characters pulled straight from the story Alice in Wonderland, had been too numerous and too merciless for him to fight off alone.

The Witch herself, in the guise of a twisted Queen of Hearts, shrieked for his head through the twists and turns of her Labyrinth.

͙̹̫ͪ̆̏͝ "̶͚̜̪̣̬͇ͭ͑ͅOͩͫ̄͏̬͖̳ Ḟ̖̝̟̜͖̭͑͢ F̡̜̼̰͓͍̟͎͇̆̾̐ ̨͚̫̗ͮ̚ͅ W̐ͧ̑͏͍͎͍̖̤̥ͅI͓͙̤͔͌̓̌̍͠��̦T̖͍͒͛͢H̡̳̪̭̹̺̒̓̿ ̹̥͉̟͙̝͓̅ͫ͝H̸̝̬̘͕̩͙̤͇̾ͥ͂Į̯͔̦͖̳̣ͥ̌͆̂S͆̑ͪ͏̦̥̭̺̞̳̪͔ ͙̪̯͗̑͞Hͧ͏̤̯̪̩ E̶̯̣̰͌̆ͨͯ A̬̦̻͍͒͝ͅD̖̹͂͒͟ !ͫͯ́͆҉̺̦̩̹̺

̠͓͈͎ͧͨ͡Ō̵̪̻̭̩̯F̣͙̲̖̈́̋͝ F̌̅̾̓͏̭̺̰͉̹̖̯ ̡̮͔͇͚̬͎̝͊̆ͪͅŴ͙̠̽ I̘̬͇̖͑͂̏̂͞ T̨̗̫̜͙̩̖̮͒ H̴̙̝̀ͥͣ̚ ̘̯̮̺̥ͣ̑̄H̻̭͇̮̮͕͗͗ͬ̊͠ͅ Iͮͪ͋͏̬̺̖̝̥̭̘ͅ S̵̝̖̙̿ ̛̬̳̠̪̰̑͗̽ H̸͙̟̱̝̳̰̄͑̃̊ Ě̳͓̝̗͎͟ A̴̤͖̬̖͓͇̖͗̆ͫ́Ḋ̜͚̬̐̋͟!̨͇͚̞̩͚̗̣̿

Ơ͚̹̜̥ͮͥ͑̏F̴̯̤̮͉̰ͫF͈̱͍̌ͩͥ̍̕ͅ ̧͎͕̱͚͍̥͔̐W̩̦̯̹̏͊̏̌̕I͐҉͕̪͔̥̞̭͈̲T̖̝̖̪̑̿̓͢H̤̠͍̣̻̠͚ͧ̍̐̿͢ ̴̲̖̫̫̺ͭH̗̤̒̆͆͡Î̤͓̭̻̝Ș̵͉͔͙̗̝̌̍̍ͬͅ ͎̫͉̞̲͆͡Ḫ̨̪̅ͧ̏E̵̮̲̩̤͓̱̙ͦÁ̻̦̘̜̂ͩ͝D̸̯͖̦͔̲͕̠̜̓̓̆̚!̨͖̓̐̈́ͪ̏ͅ҉̬͉̰̫"̙̺̬̯̹̦͖͛͗͘

Her magic.. too powerful.

His… everything... too weak.

Trapped in this magical Labyrinth that resembled a scene from Wonderland, he couldn't even get a signal out to call for a rescue. He'd tried early on to call Oracle... Nightwing... Agent A... Batman... But the only thing he got for his troubles was static.

Tim felt tears flow down his cheeks as his vision became dark and hazy around the edges and his limbs began to grow numb. He could hear the sounds of his pursuers coming closer, searching for him, and he just didn't have the strength anymore to run. All he could do was hide and wait for the inevitable.

Batman was going to lose another Robin.

Dick was going to lose another little brother.

Jack Drake was going to lose his only son.

He was going to die.

"Oh dear. I was almost too late."

A set of dainty white paws walked into his sight line, contrasting starkly against the pool of crimson blood on the floor. Weakly, Tim lifted his gaze.

"Kyubey?"

The magical creature stepped closer to the fallen teenager and took a seat in front of him. They tilted their head slightly. "I tried to warn you. A normal human isn't able to fight a Witch. Only a Magicka Knight has the power to defend against a Witch's curses and attack them in kind."

"I know," Tim whispered. "I should've listened to you."

Kyubey titled their head to the other side. "It's not too late. You can still listen to me."

Despite the cold feeling in his limbs and the shadows in his vision, Tim did his level best to keep his gaze locked on Kyubey, on the one bright spot in his dying world.

"If you enter a contract with me, you can become a Magicka Knight." Kyubey explained. "You'd be duty bound to fight Witches, but in return I can grant you one wish. Anything in the world your heart desires."

"If I become a Magicka Knight, I'll have to fight this Witch right away, right?"

"I'm afraid so. It's the only way to escape her Labyrinth."

"And there's no guarantee I'll win?"

"I won't lie to you. Turning you into a Magicka Knight is not a promise of victory. But at least you'll have a fighting chance."

Tim closed his eyes and smiled sadly. "Then I want to make a wish that can outlive me, in case I die." When he opened his eyes, tears slipped down his cheeks again. "I wish Bruce Wayne's son, Jason Todd, was alive."

Kyubey's round red eyes seemed to shimmer in the darkness, and the twin gold rings that encircled their longer set of ears started to glow brightly even as Tim's vision finally faded into blackness. As his consciousness slipped away, he heard Kyubey's voice, as if it was very far away.

"As you wish."

---

"Dinner was great, Alfred. Thank you." Tim set down his fork and watched as the kind old butler retrieved his dirty dishes.

"Will you be heading out with Master Bruce this evening?"

Tim got to his feet and placed the cloth napkin that had been on his lap onto the table, though he fidgeted with it a little before finally letting it go. "'Fraid not. B wants me to stay in and 'do my homework'."

Alfred gave him a knowing compassionate look. "I see. Well, if you want to take your dessert upstairs to have while you work on your homework, I'll allow it for tonight. If you need anything else, I'll be in the Cave on comms tonight..

"Thanks Alfred," Tim said with a smile and a quick side-hug. "You're the best!"

Tim made his way upstairs with a small plate of cheesecake topped with strawberries. Once in his bedroom, he closed the door behind him with a sigh.

"Bruce isn't letting you patrol again tonight?"

The teenager glanced over and watched as Kyubey unwound itself from the fluffy white ball it normally curled into while it napped on Tim's pillow. Tim couldn't help the fond smile as his little friend stretched leisurely and indulged in a wide mouthed yawn.

"Nope. He's still got his cape in a twist over Jason's whole empty grave thing." Tim shook his head before making his way to the window seat and making himself comfortable. "I think he just wants to make sure I don't wander off either, but it's still annoying! It's been nearly a month and B still won't let me go on any solo patrols."

"Well, look at the bright side. Now you can get a full night of sleep and wake up early to go Witch hunting before school."

"I suppose."

Tim and his sullen mood weren't alone for long at the window before Kyubey leapt gracefully from the bed to his shoulder. The startled expression on Tim's face lasted only a second before it melted into one of amusement as Kyubey headbutted him affectionately against the cheek. Once they'd managed to wring a chuckle out of the boy, Kyubey hopped down to the window seat where Tim had placed the cheesecake and began sniffing at the selection. Tim watched as his friend picked up the reddest strawberry it could find and popped that into its mouth first, eating it with obvious relish. Then he looked out the window and thought back about the night he became a Magicka Knight, about the moment he set foot back in the cave after defeating his first Witch and claiming his first Grief Seed.

---

"Where have you been?!"

Batman had stormed up to him the moment Robin pulled up on his motorcycle into the Cave. Tim froze the moment he saw his mentor barrelling toward him. "You're back already?"

"The Joker gas was a false alarm," Bruce said as he pushed back his cowl and grabbed Tim by his upper arms, Tim was startled by the frantic way Bruce's eyes were darting over him. "Where were you?! Barbara sent you to investigate a Hatter sighting, then you didn't check in for hours! It's nearly sunrise. Where have you been?!"

Tim swallowed hard. "I... I got lured into a maze trap by Hatter," he admitted quietly. "The place had some weird interference so my comms were scrambled. Hatter got away and it took me forever to find my way out. I'm sorry."

"Are you hurt?"

Tim shook his head. "I'm fine B. Just... tired. It... was a really long night."

After another long moment of Bruce looking over him, the older man finally seemed to relax. He released his hold on Tim's arms and raked his fingers through his cowl-mussed hair. "Please don't go running off like that ever again, Tim. If anything had happened to you--"

"I know," Tim murmured, his eyes focused on the floor even as he wrapped his arms about himself tightly. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Master Bruce?"

Both Bruce and TIm turned to see a shaken Alfred coming toward them with a phone in hand.

"What's wrong?"

"Commissioner Gordon is on the line."

Bruce and Tim shared a confused look. "Why is he calling at this hour?"

Alfred swallowed hard. "He needs 'Bruce Wayne' to come to the precinct as soon as possible. There's been a robbery."

"I don't under--"

"Someone broke into Gotham Cemetery tonight. They stole Master Jason's body."

As Bruce immediately went after Alfred as the old man gave him the phone, Tim stood in the Cave in shock before daring to glance at Kyubey, who had materialized at his heels.

"My wish... It really came true?"

Kyubey curled their tail around Tim's legs in a comforting gesture. "Of course it did. We made a contract."

---

"I wonder where Jason is," Tim mused aloud as he continued to stare out the window. "I thought he would've come straight home. Bruce has looked everywhere. I've looked everywhere..." He looked at Kyubey who had taken a delicate bite of the cheesecake itself. "Do you have any idea where he went after I made my wish?"

Kyubey looked up at Tim, a curious tilt to their head as they stared back at him with their round red eyes. "I was with you in the Labyrinth when the wish was made," they said matter-of-factly.

Tim shrugged. "Yeah. I know... I guess I was just hoping... Well, I hope he's alright, wherever he is."

Quietly, Tim studied the new silver ring encircling the ring finger of his right hand as well as the green alchemical symbol of Mercury that was now on his fingernail. The small emerald gem inlaid within the ring itself shimmered with magic. With a smooth motion, Tim turned his palm up and the ring morphed before his eyes into a brilliant green gem encased in an intricate cage of gold, just like a faberge egg.

His Soul Gem. The source of his power as a Magicka Knight.

For several minutes there was nothing but a comfortable silence as Tim watched the swirling glow of his Soul Gem and Kyubey ate their fill. Once the plate was empty and their paws and muzzle were thoroughly cleaned, Kyubey trotted onto Tim's lap and laid down comfortably. Unconsciously, Tim began to stroke Kyubey's soft whilte fur with his free hand.

"I just hope Jason comes home soon," Tim said as he finally put his Soul Gem away, turning it back into his ring. "That way, he and Bruce can reunite, they can be a family again, and I can step away from being Robin so I can devote myself to being a Magicka Knight instead."

"In the meantime, it's not so bad for you to be both Robin and a Magicka Knight," Kyubey mused. When Tim glanced down at them, they continued. "You have to admit that nearly every night you go out on patrol as Robin, you stumble upon one or two Labyrinths. Even if we can't get to them immediately to flush out the Witch, at least we know where they are for later!"

Tim grinned. "Yeah. I guess there is a silver lining there." Impulsively, he picked up Kyubey and gathered them into a gentle hug. "Thanks for staying with me."

Kyubey nuzzled the underside of Tim's jawline. "Of course I'm staying with you. You're my Magicka Knight. We're in this together." Kyubey flicked their short pointy ears cutely. "Besides, it's not like Bruce or anyone else can separate us. You're the only one here that can see and hear me."

"I'm glad," Tim said. "It's nice to not be alone all the time." He smiled gratefully at Kyubey. "And it makes being grounded by Bruce easier to swallow when I've got you for company."

Then he glanced back out the window at the dark outlines of Gotham City's skyline when the appearance of the Bat-signal lit up the night sky above it. "Still--" he mused. "I really hope Jason shows up soon. I can't wait to meet him."

#au: kcmk #kyubey cursed magicka knights AU #fanfiction #crossover/fusion #pmmm au #dcu au #tim drake #kyubey #batfamily #batfam #batfam fanfic

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incoherentbabblings · 3 years

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Tim gets himself turned into a cat for a week and is forced to stay at Stephanie's until the spell wears off on its own. Honestly, it's not as traumatic as it sounds. For Tim.

“I refuse to take responsibility,” Damian said. He was holding a glossy short haired black cat with a long face and sharp features. It had big bat ears and lovely big blue eyes whose pupils dilated when Stephanie looked at it. Damian held it out for Stephanie to take, lower legs dangling from a slim body. Its tail whipped from side to side, irritated.

Apparently, it was Tim after one ill-informed altercation with that magician villain who the Teen Titans and the Flash fought occasionally.

Stephanie smiled tightly to the point where Damian thought she was in physical pain.

“Do you want to come in? Have a cup of cocoa maybe?”

“Not even slightly. I have a litter box and some compostable wood pellets for litter,”

Oh my God –

“and father insisted that someone within Gotham care for him until this passes whilst he is off planet. Zatanna says it will end on its own in a week and is less likely to end in permanent brain damage than trying to reverse it artificially. More brain damage than Drake already –”

“Yes, Damian, I get it.” Stephanie sighed, pouting as she inspected Tim, still patiently dangling in Damian’s outstretched arms. “Do you understand us Tim?”

The cat – Tim – yowled in a way which sounded partly like a Siamese cat and partly like an car engine struggling to start, but Damian shook his head.

“No. His brain has shrunk to the size of a peanut. Apparently, he will remember nothing, which is good, all things considered.”

Stephanie frowned, then leaned down directly into the cats eyeline.

“Would you rather stay with me over Damian?” she asked it, regardless. “I guess it makes sense, mom is visiting Florida for the week…” she mused out loud, feeling supremely stupid.

Tim yowled again, and his pupils impossibly grew bigger.

Groaning, Stephanie conceded. “Fine, but –” wasting no time, Damian practically tossed the cat into her arms. She caught Tim clumsily, and he meowed in distress, scrambling up to cling to her shoulders.

“Ow, ow, ow! Claws. Claws, Tim ow!”

She held him tight under his little bum, and as she watched Damian run back to the Alfred chauffeured car for the bits and pieces she would need. Stephanie turned, leaving the front door open, and went upstairs to her room. Tim clung to her tightly, little claws making an imprint in her skin. When she reached her bed she leaned forward, letting him turn on his own and land on his feet in the centre of the mattress. He plopped down, sitting perfectly straight with his tail still swishing, and watched her as she proceeded to help Damian move all the pieces of kit inside. She placed the litter tray in the bathroom, wondering briefly about those YouTube videos she’d seen of cats using the toilet could be applicable. She sighed as she sat the plastic tray down, wiggling little wood pellets a couple of inches deep. Tim had come over to join her in the door frame. He looked up at her, and she looked down at him.

“Tim, I’m going to be scooping up your poo and pee. You better give me a big boon when this all over.”

Tim mewled, and to Stephanie it sounded like a bargain had been struck. Damian handed her a plastic bag filled with cat food – whatever Pennyworth did not wish to eat he explained – then left her to it.

“Do not let him go outside.”

“Yes, Damian.”

His round cheeks puffed up, and the bridge of his nose turned red like it did when he was embarrassed.

“Thank you, Stephanie.”

Somewhat mollified, Stephanie said he was welcome and then Damian and Alfred were gone. Shutting the front door, she turned around to see Tim sitting on the stairs, watching her.

Stephanie jumped, unnerved.

“How much of your peanut sized brain is like… at human level smartness?” she asked.

Tim sat quietly for a moment, watching her with those unnatural icy blue eyes. His tail, disproportionately long, smacked against the floor with a heavy thump.

“None then. Well, still, let me know when you want feeding. Or bathroom breaks so I can clean it up before it stinks out the house. I have to work on college. So… go take a nap or something. You probably need one.”

Tim blinked, stepped down the stairs, went through to the living room, sat on her sofa, and rested his head down. Like the cat he was, he was soon asleep in the late afternoon sun.

Stephanie followed him curiously, peered over the back of the couch, admiring his glossy coat then shook her limbs loose.

Just another day in the life, she told herself.

Having her ex-boyfriend slash transmogrified cat living with her for a week. Sure. Cats were distant creatures, and so were her and Tim in recent years. They could get through this week, surely.

Oddly, having another creature in the house made her feel more lonely.

*****

Tim had enough self-awareness to realise he was in fact a cat, but also not enough self-awareness to realise that there were certain behaviours he should not indulge in.

Nobody believed him that he could understand what was being said, so he decided to just go with the flow for the next six days. Abdicate all responsibility. Be feral. Receive the occasional pat on the head. All in good fun. Bizarrely, he was enjoying the drama of it all.

The first issue came about at dinner. He had woken from his nap with a hunger that he had never in his eighteen years (did that make him around two years old in cat years?) of life felt before. It was as if he had not eaten in weeks he was starving he was voracious he –

Needed help in opening tin cans.

Dammit.

Honestly, Tim would have been feeling much more humiliated and more willing to jump out of a window to end it all if he was not so sure that he would instinctively land on his feet.

Just a week. And Stephanie would take care of him, loathe as he was to admit it. She would find it uncomfortable and painful with each interaction, so he would take great care in staying out of her way. Things were awkward enough between them without the knowledge that she was going to have to brush him and feed him and clean up his poops and hairballs (he loathed how easily the concept of grooming came to him). He didn’t need to inflict anymore grief on her than she had already reluctantly accepted.

None of this stopped him from being very hungry when he woke up. He needed food. Preferably ten minutes ago.

He leapt down with a solid thud from Stephanie’s sofa, shaking his head to clear any remaining nap time fuzziness, then plodded upstairs. To his own ears, it sounded very cheery.

She had left her bedroom door slightly ajar, and Tim slid in. She did not hear him enter on account of her having a giant pair of red headphones blasting music at far too loud a volume to be good for her hearing. Or rather, he assumed they were red. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that his vision had been altered. Shades of red and green blended together in assorted shades of yellow and brown, and even the blues of the world was washed out and pale. Everything had a slight blur to it, especially for objects further away. When he had first been held up to Stephanie, he realised that the blue of her eyes now seemed almost grey, and her skin was sickly. Of this change, Tim hated the most.

She was leaning over piles of notes, hands stained with highlighter and pen ink. Tim noted her expression and found he did not like it.

She looked very sad.

He meowed to try and get her attention, but with her music playing as loud as it was, she did not hear him. Drastic measures were needed. He would soon be dead from starvation before too long.

He slinked up to the side of her chair, noting the convenient space between her lap, chest and desk. He looked up at her, yowling one more time to try and give her warning, but she did not notice.

Tim blinked slowly. Her eyes were wet.

He leapt up onto her lap, fully expecting her to shriek, to lift and throw him across the room reflexively. However, she just gasped gently, surprise quickly fading, and laughed. Good. The wet look in her eyes vanished with genuine joy. She paused her music, clumsily taking off the headphones and setting them on the desk. She adjusted her lap so Tim could sit more steadily and rested her hands at the base of his back and tail, scratching absentmindedly. He chittered at her and she raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“What?” she whispered conspiratorially. Oh, she was enjoying this. Tim grumbled, body vibrating, then hopped up another level onto her desk. With a purposeful tap, he smacked her wrist.

“What is it you little goblin?”

Rude. Tim yowled, and paced back and forth. Stephanie huffed, reaching to pick him up and put him down. When she turned, she saw her alarm clock on her bedside table. It was six o’clock.

“The time?” Her eyes widened with realisation. “Oh? Dinner time?”

His loud, drawn out meow made her wince, but she nodded all the same. “Alright then sir, come on. Let’s see what we can do for you.”

He merrily leapt down from her arms, jogging away down the stairs to the kitchen. Jumping up on the counter, he pawed insistently at the food still in the plastic bags Damian had brought. Food. He needed food. He was wasting away; why couldn’t she see…

“Right, what did Damian gift us with… Oh. Biscuits huh?”

Tim froze. Cat food. He was going to have to eat cat food.

He was a cat. But not that much. He was finding it difficult enough to imagine going in that litter box in not too long. He quietly made a little meow, distressed.

Stephanie opened the bag, and the smell of dry crunchy biscuits filled the air. Tim visibly gagged, and Stephanie quickly resealed the container.

“Yeah, I agree there Timbo. I can’t give you the wet food either, that jelly is disgusting... but your stomach can’t handle human stuff. You’re a carnivore now bud.”

She hemmed and hawed, opening assorted cupboards, looking for something suitable. Tim meowed mournfully. He was going to starve unless he ate the biscuits, but he so did not want to eat the biscuits.

“Oh!” Stephanie chirped, pulling a tin down. She held it up to him for inspection. “Tuna in spring water. That’ll do, right? But how much…”

Tim paced frantically back and forth as she googled portion sizes. Starving, starving, he was skin and bones, no chance for recovery. It had been eight hours since he last ate, how did she expect him to –

She placed a shallow dish in front of him, half of the can placed sweetly in front of him. She then placed down a small glass bowl, filled with fresh water. Uncaring of his dignity, he began to eat voraciously.

Stephanie leaned on the counter, watching him do so.

“I’m sorry there’s no milk. I heard cats are actually lactose intolerant, so just water for you this week.”

Tim ignored her, so delighted with the taste of fresh tuna that the lack of milk was so far down his list of priorities. It was only when Stephanie, in an apparent act of madness, reached down and ran a hand from his temple all the way along his back to the tip of his tail did he look up. Somewhere in the back of his little kitty brain, he noted that his muscles had tensed up, rising to the pressure of her hand as it made its way down his spine to make the contact firmer. Her hand was warm. He looked up from his feast, confused.

She was still smiling, but it looked melancholy to Tim.

“I don’t think you can actually understand me,” she said quietly, half speaking to herself. “Which is pretty expected for us. I think it’s just the fact that you’re a vocal kitty who isn’t going to remember anything in six days’ time. Which is just as well. I can tell you all my secrets then?”

Tim wanted to protest her falsehoods but found the taste of tuna too distracting.

Stephanie continued, “I’m going to go on patrol now. There’s been a monster of a case I’m getting nowhere with. I’m having another go tonight. Don’t sleep on my bed when I’m away okay?”

Tim wanted very much to yowl, to let her know that he could understand, and to ask her why she was being so mopey. It seemed more than just a sadness over his situation. He wanted to explain that, honestly, he was fine with it. Well, not fine. But he had endured much worse. He knew it was temporary, he knew things would return to normal soon, and he was warm, looked after and almost looking forward to a week’s peace.

So what if he was a slightly goofy looking black cat who had the sudden urge to lick himself clean every few minutes? In the grand scheme of trauma he had undergone in his short life, shitting in a box was pretty low on the list.

He tried to tell her it was fine, only to drop tuna all over the counter. In a fumbled attempt to clean up after himself, he licked the surface clean. Stephanie groaned, then rose away from him.

“Enjoy the evening Tim. Don’t bother me when I get back. Don’t puke anywhere.”

Tim, in fact, did not puke that night. He did use the litter box however and hated it. He tried very hard to make as little mess as possible, ensuring all the litter stayed within the box. He was here because of Stephanie’s good nature; he was not about to blow it.

He did, at around 3am, however, experience what he had heard Selina refer to as ‘the zoomies’. It was a frantic pent-up energy that he did not know how to expel. The only way that came to mind was to dash across the house in a desperate attempt to tire himself out so he could return to sleep. So, he ran, up and down the stairs, leaping off the banisters and hopping over chairs and coffee tables. He did so, bored out of his mind, until he saw the lights of her vehicle pull up. He ran up the stairs in time for Batgirl to crawl through her window. He sat patiently in her doorway, waiting for the right moment to greet her, when he saw she collapsed to the floor with a distinctive and heartrending cry of pain. His little heart pounded painfully at the sound, but he did not move.

He watched as she cursed up a storm, correcting her position so she could take off her costume piece by piece. She did so wincing, crying out, and swearing with each painful movement. If she had someone to help her, she would have been able to get ready for bed in much less agony. Whatever she had dealt with this night, it had been rough.

She crawled around on the floor, apparently unable to walk now that the adrenaline had worn off. She remained in her shorts and sports bra, and without showering, crawled into bed. Tim watched as she reached into her bedside table, pulled out two painkillers, and like a baby, swallowed them with some water from a sports bottle that stood nearby.

He thought he heard her very quietly cry to herself, but that couldn’t be. Stephanie did not cry. His hearing had been different since the transformation last night, sounds and noises did not compute the way they used to. The sound she was making very quickly stopped though, and instead Tim heard her very determinedly whisper to herself,

“Always better in the morning.”

It wasn’t a philosophy he completely agreed with. Sometimes the morning just brought clarity of the previous day’s horror. But her odd breathing stopped, and soon it was replaced with the deep gentle snoring of someone sleeping. Finally, Tim moved. He wanted to curl up next to her. Stephanie was warm, and he had discovered recently that he liked warm places. He wanted her hand to stroke him again.

But no. She had said to stay off her bed for sleeping. She has asked him not to bother her. She certainly would not be happy to find him sleeping next to her. Tim tried to remind himself that he was only getting away with certain behaviours because of his size, and there were some boundaries that he should not cross. What if she woke up in the morning, only to find that the spell had worn off early, and there was a naked human Tim Drake in her bed?

Oh no. That would be very embarrassing.

Besides, he didn’t have that kind of relationship with her anymore. He didn’t have the right anymore to insert himself into her space. They had decided not to pursue it. Not good for her, she’d said.

Tim could no longer remember his own reason. He suspected it was moot after she had become Batgirl.

And yet… she’d been crying. Tim wanted to help her. How could that not be good? Surely if he could provide comfort, if he wanted to provide comfort, she would allow it?

He turned away, not liking the way it felt like turning away from someone calling for help and returned to the living room sofa. He curled into a ball, and slept until the morning, whereupon the hunger pains hit him once more.

And so, a routine began. Tim would yowl like he was dying outside Stephanie’s door, reluctant to intrude whilst she slept. Eventually, Stephanie would emerge, ready to feed him chicken or another half a tin of tuna. He was not so secretly delighted at the way her eyes lit up with humour when she saw him, spinning in circles unable to contain his excitement, though Tim would note locations of bruises that had not been there the night before. She was struggling, it seemed.

She would then go take a shower, clean out his litter tray with a pithy comment, then go to class, leaving Tim bored until she would return after four, ready to clean his litter tray once more, provide dinner, then spend a couple of hours doing homework before leaving again for patrol. She would return at first light, looking more defeated with each passing sunrise. She would be smiling come the morning, but – even with a brain the size of a monkey nut – Tim saw it was shallow.

It did not escape Tim’s notice that she was going out of her way to avoid him. He understood it. She did the same thing when he was human. He would call for her help from time to time with a case, which she gave without reservation, just as she had done now for kitty him, but rarely, if ever, did she call for his aid.

Her stubborn independent streak had not abated with time it seemed, even when it came at the price of her safety.

That and she just seemed sadder than usual. Or was this usual, and he was just never around and allowed to view it?

His tiny mind whirled and churned, and with no outlet, he stewed, glaring out the window at passer-by’s and their dogs.

Regardless, on the fifth night, after hearing her stilted heart-rending sobs and half-hearted and self-inflicted words of comfort, he decided to break the one boundary she had set.

He jumped up onto the bed, moving until he had clambered on her sternum, then folded down into a loaf position. Stephanie tensed, unsure what game he was playing, until she felt him begin to purr.

She laughed brokenly, more of a whimper than a genuine expression of joy and reached up to scratch behind his ears.

Tim purred louder, to her delight.

“I’m having a bit of a rough time,” she spoke quietly in the dark, as if reluctant to break the thick, dark blanket of warmth and comfort. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to be a burden.”

Tim gave a small ripple of a meow in response. She was not a burden.

“I can’t get a crack on this case,” she explained. “I make a dent, get hurt in a fight and am fine in the morning, but then so are they. I’ve hit a wall. But I have to do it alone. Bruce and Babs expect me to now… I have to…”

Her voice broke and she cut herself off. She smiled crookedly, painfully trying to dispel her sadness. Tim began to make biscuits. He didn’t understand why, but he thought the pressure would help. She was a little furnace beneath him, and he purred loudly, drowning out her shaky breathing.

Stephanie chuckled at the sensation of his little vibrating chest. She ran a hand down his back again, enjoying the smooth coat. Contradictorily once more her eyes became wet.

“Do you think, when you are back to normal, we could talk? There’s…there’s no-one else who would understand. Though I think I’d make Cass sad if I told her that. But I miss you. And I think it’s my fault.”

Tim shifted upwards, until his nose rested under her chin. He continued to purr loudly, nearly trilling with the force of it. Steph nuzzled in close and kissed his forehead and flicked his large ears.

“Silly boy. I hope you don’t remember this. You’d hate me for it.”

Tim meowed grouchily. How she could lie to herself like that…

They’d burned their bridge long ago. He knew this. And him being a cat for a week was not going to mend it. But it made his heart ache like nothing else to see her despondent. He silently promised himself that he would extend an olive branch before the end of next week. They couldn’t continue like this, tip toeing around each other with Tim occasionally stepping too close and making Steph flinch back away.

She wasn’t flinching away now though.

She picked him up so she could sleep better and set him on the pillow next to her. Turning on her side, she reached up and placed a soft, warm hand on his shoulders, rhythmically petting the fur there.

Her quiet sniffles died off, Tim’s purring acting as a lullaby, and she fell asleep before the sun rose.

Throughout the night he shifted closer, until he was practically resting on her head. He rested his chin on the crown of her head, her long golden hair acting like a silken pillow, and kept guard for the rest of the night.

*****

Stephanie awoke to her nose being licked. She opened her eyes blearily, and realised it was Tim cat. She blushed, remembering what had transpired last night. She told herself it was fine, opening up like that. It was only a cat. It was only Tim. Tim, who would be blissfully ignorant come the evening. Though that reminded her, she better lay out some clothes for him. Her mother was coming back at some point in the next forty-eight hours. The idea of her walking in on a naked Tim would cause a conniption.

She smooched Tim’s head, and he meowed cheerily at the wet smack, and continued to press up against her.

She had kept her distance at first, struggling to reconcile Tim with the little sleek gremlin cat meowing at her feet. It felt weird, so she – for a lack of a better term – ignored him. He would be so angry when he changed back, she wanted to avoid anything which he could extrapolate from the week as her being mocking or patronising.

Bruce’s anger she had learned to ignore, Tim’s she hadn’t figured out a knack for yet. It hurt, in a physical manner that she could not explain. Like he was kicking her in the gut again. She found herself actively taking steps now to avoid it. Avoid the concept of it.

But she was exhausted, physically, and emotionally. Years ago, when she would reach such a state, Tim would somehow figure it out and slink in through her window or take her on a quiet date. The two would hold on to each other, and let Stephanie catch her breath and perspective with a warm pillar of support behind her.

Despite Tim now being a cat, it seemed he still had this perception, and had sought her out to give comfort. Weird how animals could sense those sorts of things.

Fuck it, she thought. It was the last day, she was feeling miserable, and there was a perfectly cuddly vibrating fluff ball in her arms, who showed no signs of irritation and instead was offering comfort that she didn’t get much of in recent years. She was going to milk this for all it was worth. Maybe she could take some photos and videos later – humiliate or blackmail Tim later. All in good fun, of course. She never wanted to genuinely upset him.

She continued to give him sweet pecks on his head back and sides, which she thought he liked, as he meowed and headbutted her.

“Sweetie,” she praised, and she picked him up to cradle him properly. He flipped over, being held like a baby, as she continued to croon, “Last day as a kitty. Tomorrow you won’t remember a thing, and we won’t be able to talk like I am now… isn’t that sad? I think we should spoil you today. Lap of luxury and all that. It’ll keep my brain busy, if nothing else.”

He pawed at her chin, and she kissed his toe beans.

She spent an embarrassingly long amount of the day starfished on the floor, playing with Tim. He was a chatty little cat, more so than he ever was as a person. His meows sounded like a revving engine and were as long as he could hold his breath. He was graceful though, despite his lanky limbs and giant ears. He leapt from surface to surface and straight into her arms with seemingly no effort, and whenever she let him roll out of her embrace, he landed neatly on his feet every single time.

Stephanie couldn’t help it, but when she pulled out a little laser from her Batgirl belt, she recorded Tim’s feral delight, chasing a speck of red across the house. She laughed more than she had in a long while, partly because it had been so long since she had seen anything so unabashedly goofy as Tim as a cat, shaking his little bum, pupils dilated larger than dinner plates, in preparation to jump a red point of light.

It was delightful and made her wonder if she could convince Crystal to adopt a cat once she returned. Poor Tim, he’d have no clue what he’d endured come the morning, but at least in that moment, he seemed happy.

When it reached eight pm, Stephanie sighed, realising she had another night of patrol to face. Selfishly, she wanted to linger, to keep company with the cat, but she quickly shook that thought off. People needed her. She wanted her case over and done with.

“One last go,” she whispered. “I can do it tonight. I’m nearly there.”

Tim hopped up onto her lap and she was sliding on her gloves. She chuckled lightly and scratched under his chin. He purred, craning his neck to allow her better access.

“I’ll lay your human clothes out for you on my bed, okay? If it’s not fixed by the time I’m back… I’ll put you in your boxers and jeans and hopefully come morning…” She got up, hoisting Tim to rest on her shoulders, and tugged one of the plastic bags Damian had left for her. To her growing dismay, she realised there was only a pair of underpants. She looked sideways, Tim peering over her left shoulder. “Oh dear, Tim. Damian really is out to get you, huh?”

He chuffed, like he was grumbling to himself. She pecked him once more, and he meowed more firmly, hopping off her shoulders as she made her way to rummage through her wardrobe.

“I don’t want my mom to come back and find you in your undies in my room and me being AWOL. That would just be one step too much for her, I think. I still have some baggy sweatshirts…pants though… pants…”

She tossed clothes haphazardly, at one point burying Tim under a pile of bras and underpants that she shrieked at, loudly and joyously, when she realised what she had done. Eventually she found a pair of jeggings which she hoped would suffice. Tim looked almost suspicious. If he had eyebrows, they would have been raised.

“You have skinny legs,” Stephanie justified, feeling insane talking to the cat. “It’s fine. Just until the morning. I’ll drive you back and no-one will see your shame. Not even Damian. We’ll sneak. Promise.”

She carefully laid out the clothes, and shoved what she had carelessly tossed out her closet back in with equal zeal. Pecking Tim once more on the head, she moved the litter box into her bedroom and shut the door.

“I can’t have mom coming back to a half naked boy in my living room and a box of used kitty litter. You’ll have to stay in here. Hopefully, I’ll be back before she is. She said she’ll drive the whole way and not stop. So, maybe by seven in the morning? Fingers crossed.”

She opened up the windowsill, slinking her leg over. Tim hopped up on her desk, as if to follow her out.

“Uh-uh,” she warned, pressing on his wet nose firmly. “You have to wait here. Damian made me promise you’d stay inside. I can’t risk losing you.”

She caught herself speaking more desperately than she intended and shuddered. “You know what I mean. Naked boy CEO found running through the streets of Gotham is not the kind of attention the family needs right now. Be good, Tim. And thank you. You cheered me up so much today.”

One more kiss, then she was out the window, sliding it definitively shut. As she mounted the bike, Tim perched himself at the windowsill, watching her shoot off down the street.

When she was out of sight, he jumped down and paced endlessly, stressed and worried. She had been struggling so much with patrol, and he was unable to help her. Feeling utterly helpless, he jumped up onto her bed and settled on her main pillow. Curling up into a ball, he settled in to wait, praying that she would return home safely, and before Crystal arrived back.

He awoke, briefly, when he felt a soft pair of hands lifting him up. He chirped and chuffed, and it was Stephanie hushing him. She wrapped him up in his boxers and sat him next to her under the covers.

She was smiling, albeit a tired smile.

“I did it,” she whispered, scratching his ears. “Tim, I did it.”

Tim meowed a congratulatory chitter, and Stephanie smiled wider.

“Sleep now. I’ll explain more in the morning.”

In an act which utterly took Tim off guard, she pulled him closer, curling around him in a crescent moon shape. Under the covers in the dark, surrounded by her scent and soft breath, Tim began to purr once more.

*****

“Steph? Steph…”

Stephanie grumbled, then opened her eyes when cold fingertips pressed against her cheek. Looking at him with an expression Tim could not decipher (relief? Disappointment? Fright?) Stephanie inspected Tim up and down. He had put on his boxers and her sweatshirt but had yet to touch her trousers. Nevermind. He was kneeling on the floor next to her bed. According to her clock, it was just after six in the morning.

Right, Tim needed context.

“I suppose you are very confused right now… Being in my room in your undies… so let me explain—”

She yawned then, arms emerging from her duvet to stretch dramatically. Tim watched the muscles in her neck, then chuckled to himself.

“No, Steph. I remember.”

“Oop.” She froze, watching him anxiously, like an antelope faced with a lion. “Everything?”

“Everything.” He then snorted defiantly, “despite what Damian insisted, I was still me. Shockingly, he is not omnipotent.”

Chewing her tongue, Stephanie narrowed her eyes, not having it at all.

“Oh c’mon, you are lying out your butt.”

“Am not.”

“Are too! There’s no way you’d lower yourself to chasing my laser pen across my living room. Oh gosh, Tim, it must have been horrible…”

Tim shrugged, making a noncommittal noise.

“Maybe I wanted to catch that point of light, huh?” he teased. He then conceded, “Maybe I had a bit of trouble keeping cat me and human me straight in my head.”

“Yeah, that I believe.”

“But honestly, having a week where my biggest concern was whether I was getting tuna or chicken for my next meal was sort of refreshing.”

“I can find a way to turn you back if you like.”

“Hmm. Pass.”

Stephanie giggled, but cut off abruptly when Tim shuffled closer. She felt herself grow cross eyed as she watched him move in so intimately. Tim’s warm breath blew over her as he continued,

“Yeah well, having said that… You mentioned that I helped you. Cheered you up.”

Tim’s teasing look softened, and in that moment looked at Stephanie with such unabashed and unfiltered affection that she felt incredibly self-conscious. Tim was only in his boxers and her sweatshirt, and she was only in a baggy nightgown that she had tossed on when she had arrived home; the first time in weeks she had been uninjured enough to change her clothes.

“Maybe,” Tim continued, “I wanted to see you smile. You were so sad all this week… I needed to help you. Even if it was as dumb as chin scratches – as good as they felt – and chasing lasers. I… I heard you crying, Steph.”

Her arms came down from their stretch, and rested on his shoulders, fingers gently stroking back and forth.

“I’m okay,” she promised, like she was the one comforting him.

Tim’s eyebrows furrowed. “I could have helped you before now.”

There was no chiding in his tone, only pleading, but it made Stephanie feel guilty, nonetheless.

“I had to do it alone.”

“No, no you didn’t. You don’t have to be alone for anything.”

“You’re such a big softie.”

Tim laughed gently, “With you, sure.” Taking a deep breath, he moved even closer until he was practically leaning over her, tips of their noses touching. “Steph… I need to ask you something.”

Stephanie nodded, eyes growing damp. “Shoot,” she whispered, voice cracking and betraying the nonchalant words.

“Could we –”

Crystal opened Stephanie’s bedroom door, and the pair froze. Instinctively, Stephanie raised an arm with a shocked cry, slamming Tim in the face. He wheezed and shot up into standing, which only proved to give Crystal a good view of him in his underwear and daughter’s clothes. Looking somewhat dazed and yet unsurprised, she looked to Stephanie for whatever lie of an excuse her daughter could conjure up.

“Mommy!” Steph cried out. “I did not hear you get back. How was Florida?”

“I was being quiet since it was still early,” Crystal grumbled, unamused by Stephanie’s glib tone. “But then I heard talking.”

Crystal glared at Tim, who fidgeted, finding no dignity in any pose he maintained. Stephanie scrambled upwards so she was sitting, thankfully she had managed to put on pyjamas last night, and clambered for some excuse, any excuse.

“Tim was… It’s not… ”

Seeing her daughter fail to come up with some vaguely plausible non incriminating reasoning, Crystal turned to Tim, glaring holes through his head. He would crack in a way that Stephanie would not.

“Why are you here, Tim?” she demanded.

“I… I…” Tim began to shiver with nerves, face flushed red and eyes bright with panic.

“Where are your pants?”

Tim choked on air. “…I don’t have any. With me.”

“And no shirt either?”

Tim very much wished the ground would swallow him up.

“No.”

Stephanie groaned, throwing herself face down into her pillow. “Good job, Tim.”

“It’s the truth, Stephanie!”

Crystal’s fingers twitched on the door handle, and Stephanie could see one of her pressure headaches building, like a throbbing in her mother’s temple.

“You know what – just leave Tim. And we won’t discuss it again.”

Tim would take that and run. At least this time he wasn’t being chased out of a house with a shotgun like Ariana’s uncle had done.

“Sure. Sure. Can… Steph. Can I borrow your phone?”

“So someone can come pick you up?” Crystal snorted. “What? Don’t you have shoes either?”

Tim realised if Crystal had her way he would have been forced to run back to the manor. Death at this point really would have been preferable. Weakly, he just stated, “No, Mrs. Brown.”

Stephanie spoke at her mother and into her pillow, unable to look the embarrassing situation in the eye.

“Mom, please. The guy’s dignity has already been shot. Please don’t make him walk back to Wayne Manor in his tidey-wideys. I can give you a lift Tim, I said I would.”

“No, no,” Crystal insisted. “I’m sure you’ve done enough Stephanie.”

Stephanie shrieked, muffled but distressed. Dramatically, with exaggerated movements, she removed her phone form under her pillow and unlocked it without looking, then tossed it up the air. Tim scrambled to catch it, then dialled for the manor. Crystal stood aside, indicating it was time for Tim to leave the room. He looked back to Stephanie, still buried in her bed sheets. It was a look of desperation on his features that made Crystal feel almost guilty for separating the pair, but honestly, she did not trust her daughter, and she did not trust Tim, however soft spoken he may have been.

When Tim exited the room, Crystal shut the door with a definitive slam behind him. Turning back to Stephanie, she saw her daughter’s shoulders shaking with quiet crying. This only served to befuddle Crystal more, but before she could say or do anything else, a shallow container on the floor by her daughter’s desk caught her eye.

“Is that a litter tray?” she asked, confusion reaching fever pitch.

Stephanie raised her head to stare at her mother, eyes wet and pout overwhelmingly sad.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth.”

*****

“Alfred washed it. Got rid of all the cat hairs.”

Tim held up the blue sweater for Stephanie to take on her doorstep. She took it reverently and inhaled deep. Alfred always used an excess of fabric conditioner that made clothes smell lush. Tim, for his part, looked apologetic.

“I’m sorry you got drawn into all of that. I’m sorry I made you and your mom fall out.”

Stephanie said nothing, keeping Tim on the doorstep as she set down the sweatshirt. When she looked back to Tim, closing the front door behind her, she was struck by the thought that he seemed much younger than eighteen. He was scuffing his feet on the concrete, hands behind his back, like a bashful child.

“It was all because I was careless with Abra Kadabra and it bit me in the butt and Damian didn’t want to have to deal with me so he burdened you with it. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t a burden,” she replied quietly. “I liked it. The last day.”

“Oh,” Tim blushed, looking anywhere but in her eye. “Me too. For what it’s worth. Honestly, it was actually really nice. Relatively. In context. You know. In a not creepy way.”

“It must have been a bit weird. Like, don’t pretend it wasn’t. All that chicken and tuna you ate for one thing…”

Tim chuckled to himself, finding something very funny.

“Yeah my digestion has been wild the past week and... too much information. Sorry.”

Stephanie tried to catch his eye, but Tim kept his head stubbornly down. His feet must have been very interesting.

“You… you were going to ask me something, before my mom walked in,” she pushed.

He coughed, choking on nothing but his nerves.

“Was I?”

“Tim.” She reached out and took his hand. Tim flinched, then relaxed and finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye. She smiled, beautifully, always beautifully, and he squeezed her fingers.

“I’m sorry if it took me being turned into a cat to actually ask.”

“That’s okay. It happens for people like us. In a way I think it puts things into perspective. So, please ask.”

“You…”

He stared at her, admiring her, before finding words couldn’t do the job well enough. Instead, he leaned forward, meeting Stephanie who was also moving closer, and the two kissed on Stephanie’s front doorstep. She broke away with such a delighted laugh that Tim chuckled himself.

“Ask me,” she insisted.

Tim shook his head and kissed her again. Falling back against her front door, the two made out for a moment too long before Stephanie regained her senses. She pushed him back, laughing louder and more hysterically.

“Tim! No! You need to ask!”

Another kiss, this time accompanied by him picking her up and swinging her in a circle. Finally, Stephanie gave up and held him tight. Tim made a noise that she could only describe as a chirp of delight in response.

“You’re a little gremlin,” she muttered into his mouth. “Cat or otherwise.”

#dc #tim drake #stephanie brown #timsteph #my fic tag

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writersplight · 3 years

Text

THE FATHER IS A DEAD MAN

For: @elijahlittle A/N: This bitch took me so long to write. I will probably post more because I enjoy pain caused by Erwin Smith. Enjoy <3 ——— Ena’s dream for the longest time was to be a beloved mother and wife. She has been looking for a husband ever since she left home, the desire for her dream to come true burning within her. For years now, since joining the Survey Corps, it had been put on the back burner, always in the back of her mind. Unfortunately for her, she fell for the commander. Erwin Smith. A monster of a man to some, but to her—due to years of chipping away at his exterior walls in private—he had shown her some of his humanity. Deep, deep down below the veil of a commander was a human that she has risked it all for. In his own way, he has shown how fond he has grown of her, too. Like almost a month ago, when Ena entered his room to hand him some tea she made, and they shared a passionate night together. Ena never thought she'd get that far with the commander, so she cherished every moment She could have sworn he said something about loving her, but she didn’t ask. She held onto that like a lifeline. Through all the recent mornings of her getting sick and feeling nauseated, she thought: “He said he loved me, so I’m okay.” It was all worth it. With the betrayal of Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover—the Armored and Colossal titan—and now news of the titans in the wall, and the Beast Titan, Ena was instructed to stay in Wall Sina and see a doctor. She didn’t argue, because she was growing concerned about being this sick in the morning. Also the increase in appetite. In hindsight, she should have known what was happening to her. However, that didn’t stop her from pulling him off to the side, and, though his eyes were distant, and he wasn’t the Erwin she knew then, she told him to “Hurry back alive”. The doctor confirmed it, after she waited for a few hours. Half of her dream was being achieved. She was going to be a mother. Only three weeks along, she could see her life unfold. Maybe this will be the thing that grounds Erwin, and ties him to her officially. Up until now, she was content with the privacy, with the late night whispers and touches. But now. . . She awaited them to come back, a nervous smile on her face that didn’t match the others. There were always injured soldiers, and reasons why missions extended passed what she was told. That was normal. Her light blue eyes wandered for the commander, going from distressed teen face to distressed teen face. Something was off, that was more than apparent. She grabs onto Levi and Hanji’s arms, searching for something in their faces. “Where’s Erwin? I have some news I have to break.” Ena’s voice is wobbly, seeing their face grow grim. She’s sitting at a table, where some cadets and Levi join her. Armin sits farthest away, at the end of the table, head leaning down. “Ena. . .” Hanji starts, but quickly stops, looking at the ground. There’s no point in crying, is there? Not all over again, after crying before. It’s not what’s expected of them now. As the 14th commander of the Survey Corps. . . “He’s dead.” Levi finishes, getting up for tea. He gets her some. She’s filled in on the mission, the basement, the whole Armin being chosen over Erwin. She’s silent, taking it all in. Her eyes wander to Armin, who won’t even look up. Her heart squeezes, not able to imagine the pressure he must feel. Still, she listens, holding back her own news and tears. It feels wrong to be happy about it now. “So. . . Armin was chosen over Erwin?” Levi nods, slowly, bringing his cup to his lips. She nods slowly, mulling over the information. To her, though she misses him, it makes sense. She manages a small smile, turning her head. “Armin, come here.” She instructs, and he does so instantly. She takes his hands in her own when he sits in the chair to her left. “I can’t imagine the pressure you’re under. Bertholdt’s memories, the Colossal titan’s powers, feeling like you were chosen over Erwin—it’s a lot for a boy. However, you are not Erwin. You are your own

person. Do not let Levi or Hanji pressure you into filling his shoes. You’re brilliant on your own.” He looks mortified. She sighs, moving her hair off her shoulders. “You must, instead, promise me one thing.” She holds out her pink finger. “You must be the opposite of Erwin Smith, got it? You cannot lose sight of your dreams or your own humanity, okay? Can you promise me that?” Tears well in his eyes, as he locks pinkies with her. It was a difficult promise, one that he will most likely break, but Ena was already prepared for that. It was okay for Armin to break this promise, because it was only made to take the pressure off of him at this moment. “Right, thank you.” She pulls away from the burdened cadet. She sighs, looking down at her tea. It was untouched. She didn’t want any of it. She licks her lips, swallowing what little tears she had. Clearing her throat, she makes her announcement. “I’m pregnant.” And the father is a dead man.

She cries on her own time. She’s not going to be the strong soldier she built herself up to be. She’s not going to have the support of a husband. Her child isn’t going to have a child. Ena cries harder at the thought. On the left side of the room, but in a separate quarters, Levi hears her. It’s not like he was sleeping anyways. He says nothing, sitting in the loss of a friend and the mourning from another. ——— It’s a boy. Ena smiles, holding it close to her body. It was a long nine months, but so worth it. Her baby boy, so small and fragile. Her baby boy. Half of her dream is still completed. He’s alive and healthy. “What are you going to name him?” Levi asks, peering down at the small baby. He looks disgusted, but that’s just his face. “I don’t quite know. I haven’t given it much thought.” she whispers, the exhaustion kicking in. She didn’t know birth was so painful, or this long. She’s been in labor for ten hours. But, she wouldn’t trade it for the world. She has her baby boy, her dream, in her hands. What was once thought of unattainable, was struggling in her clothed breasts, peacefully sleeping. “What about ‘Erwin’—junior, of course,” Hanji suggests, and the mere thought of it made her clutch her baby closer to her chest. “If they share the same name,” she slowly says, continuing to mull it over, “will they have to share the same fate? Would I have to watch my son become desensitized to deaths he caused—to my own love? Would I have to watch him throw away his life, while I’m on the sidelines?” The blonde didn’t realize she was crying until Levi held out a handkerchief. She takes it, wiping her face haphazardly. Her eyes pierce the new commander, who gulps. “That’s not—” “No one can live up to his name, his selfish selflessness. I will give him a different name, and he’ll forge his own path.” She says, with finality, and Hanji nods, going to leave. Unlike Erwin, they could not stand awkward situations they made, and refused to sit in them. “I have thought about it,” Ena whispers, stopping them, “but look at him. My beautiful baby boy is part of me, too. It’s one thing to lose a lover that was barely yours, it’s another to lose your baby boy to a name he knows nothing of. . . I don’t want to rob him of any opportunities he has to be a regular boy.” They nod, leaving. Levi sighs, sitting back. Through everything, he’s still here. For some reason. It’s as confusing as it is comforting. Soon, the cadets come, amazed by the little baby. They were polite and quiet—those who got rowdy were threatened by Levi—and she handed her baby off to be held one by one. When it got to the last person, Connie, it had to be taken from him. He was crying hysterically for some reason, and his hands were shaky and unstable. He returned later, with flowers and an apology. “You’re going to apologize for crying, but not tell me why?” Ena jokes, shifting up in her bed. She was still sore and tired, but was restless. Her baby was sleeping in a cradle next to her. “Right, uhm—” he sits down, wiping his hands on his pants. “Sorry. He just—whatever his name is—he reminded me of when my youngest brother was born. I miss my family.” “Ah. . .” was all Ena said, leaning over to put her hand over one of Connie’s. Her eyes searched for the younger cadet’s, getting all the information she needed. Now that she was a mother, she could read people slightly better. It’ll only get stronger as he grows up. “Then I think you have a dream similar to mine. For different reasons. I had a bad, distant family, so I wanted to make one who was close. For how you act, I assume you had a close family.” The buzzcut teen nods, a deep frown on his lips. “You’ll find someone. Right now isn’t the best time, you’re still young, but it’ll come.” She advised, before pointing towards her baby. “That baby boy right there, should be enough motivation. You’ve got a big heart, Connie, I don’t doubt you’ll achieve your dreams.” He nods, and says something about how late it is, that they both need their beauty sleep. Ena stops the teen

soldier before he leaves, pointing to her son again. Her smile never falters. “His name is Ezran.” ——— It’s hard raising a baby and being in the Survey Corps, but she manages it as best as she can. What makes it easier is that everyone adores Ezran. He’s a bundle of joy, with an insatiable appetite for knowledge. Just like Erwin. In fact, he looks a lot like his father. Shares most of the same features. But his eyes. . . They’re a pale, dull blue just like Ena’s. Everything else is a copy of Erwin—as Hanji has said. Internally, she has agreed with them, but she refuses to say it is allowed. Ezran shouldn’t be compared to someone he doesn’t know. He doesn’t need that invisible pressure. Though, she hasn’t withheld stories of Erwin’s. . . accomplishments. She loves him, but she’s sure not to paint him in too good a light. He was immoral at times, and made their personal relationship rocky and uncertain, but a four year old didn’t need to know that. He just needed to know his dad was a hero before he was a man, and made raids like this possible. She stayed away from the fight, with Hanji and Onyankopon. She rocked Ezran, who was dozing off. He was such a sleepy baby, despite everything. He saw his first death tonight. Two little kids hopped onto the aircraft, and the smaller one shot Sasha. The commotion spooked Ena, and she ran to check. She couldn’t cover her son’s eyes in time. He saw Sasha’s limp body and everyone crying. He cried, too, much to his mother’s surprise. She expected him to gravely look down upon the dead body as if it meant nothing. It was in these minutes that she forgot her son was not his father. He still had his humanity. She held her son as he cried over his lost friend. Ena cried for another reason. ——— It’s all over. Eren sacrificed himself, and there are no more titans. Ezran and Ena are alive. Levi is alive. Hanji is not. It’s okay. Well, no, it’s actually not okay. Eren committed a mass genocide in seconds, leaving only a handful of people alive. She could rationalize it, however, because her baby boy was still alive. Though he had no intentions of killing him off, Ena recalled begging Eren on her knees in Paths to spare his life. “I don’t—he’s going to live,” Eren says, a promise in his tone. The blonde mother erupts in a new set of tears, pulling him into a hug. She couldn’t forgive him for that distanced, god complex he developed to trick Zeke, but this was a step in the right direction. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she chants, eyes blurry from the tears. If she couldn’t have Erwin, then she wanted her son. That’s all she remembers. But when it was wall over, the first thing she felt was Erzan running towards her with tears in his pale eyes. He couldn’t have understood this. She just reassures him that he’s okay, and that it’s all over now, though her leg is missing. It was chopped off before everyone went titan mode. She was okay with it being gone. Her son was okay, that’s all that mattered. She’ll explain it later, and as many times as he needs her to. But not in this moment, where she smiles and kisses his cheeks, mentally thanking Eren for being alive. Ezran is six years old. They live with Levi. He’s mainly confined to a wheelchair, so he needs help. With the help of Armin, Connie, and Jean, Ena was made a wooden prosthetic that is strapped to her hip. Her leg hurts most days, but she does her best to stay out of a wheelchair herself. Her son is so chatty, and he reads with an aptitude that even Armin can barely keep up with. His mind is a sponge, soaking up any information he can get his hand on. “Mama! I finished ‘A Wrinkle in Time’!” he called to her, holding out his copy. She wasn’t even halfway done. They talk about it, and she lets him spoil the ending for her, not wanting to stop his excitement. He looked so happy reciting his favorite parts of the book, she didn’t have the heart to stop him. “Mama, what are we going to read next?” She taps her chin, before shrugging. “We’ll ask Armin when he visits us later. I think it’s lunch time.” He

grabs her hands, pulling her into the kitchen. Ena puts her son on the counter so he can help. He stands, when her back is turned, and he nearly falls. She manages to dive and catch him at the last minute. She sighs, glad her reflexes are still working, before she begins tickling her son. “Be more careful, bug! You could have gotten hurt!” He squeals, trying to run from her. Pushing away from her didn’t stop her, and he couldn’t run far from her. He grabbed the first thing blindly, and pulled, not seeing until the last second it was her necklace. He gasps, looking down at the locket. He stops, prying open the heart. It was a picture of an older man, who looks just like him. It was the smallest drawing he’s ever seen. “Is this. . .” “Yeah, that’s your dad. Erwin Smith.” Ena sighed. Even with Ezran around, who looks like the spitting image of him, she still misses him. Sometimes, when she goes to bed at night, she dreams of Erwin meeting his son, and how happy he would be to see Ena’s dream. Once, she dreamed they got married, with little Ezran as the ring bearer. . . She sniffed, pulling Ezran onto her lap. She held him close, like letting him go would mean losing him forever. He didn’t seem to mind today, eyes on the locket. From what he could tell, it was drawn by that Horse Guy, whatever his name was. Gene, or Janet—it was hard to pronounce for the little guy. It was nice. For a moment, he thought: If I was like him, would Mama stop crying? It was only a whisper, before he turned to her with a question. “Can we go visit his grave today, mama? I need him to hear about the books I’ve read!” She thinks it over. When was the last time they both visited? Ena goes every other Saturday, but she only brings their son on rare occasions. With a content sigh, she nods. “Okay. We’ll go after Armin visits, okay?” She stands, offering him a hand. “Now, what did you want for lunch today, Ezran?”

#erwin smith #oc: p. ena bristol #oc: ezran bristol-smith #aot #snk #fanfic writeblr #writeblr #armin arlert #connie springer #levi ackerman #my works.mp3

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jelly-pies · 4 years

Text

Places and Embraces (that you thought you left behind)

By @jelly-pies for @jaybaybay-01, for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: Teen (mentions of torture, electrocution, near drowning)

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter & Tony & Avengers Team

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, James Rhodes, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Pepper Potts

Summary:

"So now we know what we’re up against: a Hydra cell just launched a cyber attack on the Avengers,” Tony said, slowly drawing out each bitter word. He took a deep breath. “And they used Peter Parker to do it.”

Hydra brainwashes Peter and turns him against the Avengers. Tony jumps out of semi-retirement to get his kid back.

Word count: 12.2k (read on AO3 or click below!)

----- Chapter 1: The Compound -----

It was supposed to be a simple patrol.

“I just sent the address to Karen. Track their activity. Eyes open. Update me or Sam the second things get fishy…”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter’s voice groaned through the speakers, “I think I know what ‘reconnaissance’ means.”

“Might as well spell it out for you, because sometimes I think you don’t know what ‘stay back and wait for backup’ means.”

Peter huffed, and Tony imagined the twenty-year-old rolling his eyes in accompaniment. “That was one time,” he complained. “I mean, two." Another pause. “Wait. I mean…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony pressed a button to bring Peter’s view up on his computer. The kid was swinging through the city, crisscrossing between buildings at breakneck speed. Tony swept the footage to the side of his holo-screens before all the movement made his head spin. Damn, he was getting old.

“Hey, you wanna hear a thought I just had?” Peter said, swinging up and landing on an empty rooftop. “Iron Man’s retired, right? And Spider-Man’s official Avenger-Guardian of New York City.”

“Not a thing.”

“Totally a thing. So—listen, Mr. Stark—in the Avengers, do I rank higher than you now? ” Peter teased.

Tony rolled his eyes. “First off, I’m voluntarily relegated to tech support, I’m not retired.”

“You make a pretty decent Guy in the Chair, by the way. I mean, I still prefer Ned, but with summer break and all…”

“And second,” Tony interrupted, “Peter, this is serious. This is Hydra. I don’t want to hear about some solo-act hero found dead in the news tonight, you hear me?”

Peter chuckled softly. “You’re always gonna worry about me.”

Tony didn’t answer. But he caught his onscreen notification that Karen’s secondary tracker, connecting directly to the Avengers Compound, had been turned on. So the kid was taking precautions; Tony took that as a win.

“What we discussed,” Tony said softly. “Keep your distance. Web ‘em up.”

“Callback! That was a callback.” Finishing whatever tweaks he’d apparently made to the suit’s settings, Peter leapt off the building and continued swinging. “Talk to you later, old man.”

Tony smiled fondly. “Later, disaster child.”

He kept FRIDAY running the screens, ready to alert him to any trouble, but everything seemed normal on Peter’s patrol. And why wouldn’t it? It was supposed to be normal.

In a few minutes Morgan was banging on the garage door, calling her father for dinner. Tony left for the night.

It was hours later when Pepper shook him awake. Wide-eyed, with a deceptively calm voice, she relayed the emergency alert from FRIDAY. But by then it was too late.

It was supposed to be a quiet night. Instead, Peter Parker was missing.

-----

“Hydra,” May repeated in a hollow voice. “Hydra?”

“They had a suspected cell in NYC—sketchy, black market type medical lab.” Tony removed his sunglasses as he sank into May’s couch. His joints ached from the fatigue of the last few hours; the sunlight from the windows assaulted his baggy eyes. “It was supposed to be a routine check,” he exhaled, the same words he had been telling himself over and over and over. “Peter was just… keeping an eye out, waiting to confirm illegal activity.”

“Well, you got your confirmation.”

Tony looked up at that, an apology ready on his lips, but when he met May’s eyes they only looked sad.

“Is he—did they—Tony, do you think Peter’s—”

“No,” he replied strongly. “That’s one thing I can say for sure.” It’s the only thing he could say for sure. “They wouldn’t take the trouble, disabling his suit so expertly, if they were just going to…” He let the rest trail off unspoken. May dropped beside him on the couch.

Tony grit his teeth, pinched his eyes shut. He’d been up all night, and his chest ached even more than his head did. “Callback! That was a callback,” Peter’s blithe voice from yesterday echoed in his ears. This was another one, Tony supposed. A callback to Titan… to Beck… to, well, a couple more times after that, to be honest. The supposedly quiet semi-retirement years weren’t so quiet with another superhero in the family.

“So, we just… search,” May whispered beside him, the same pain, the same haunting memories evident on her frown lines. “And wait?”

Tony felt the full weight of his years pressing down on him, pushing as he fought to lift his head, and he gave a simple, helpless nod.

-----

It was supposedly a standard security update.

That’s what Tony told the guards, and anyone else with dropped jaws and shining eyes who wondered what Tony Stark, retired hero, was doing at the Avengers Compound on an ordinary Thursday. He indulged the gaping staff members with a signature Tony Stark grin as he made his way into the main building. But his tinted sunglasses stayed on his face the whole time.

“Alright, show me,” he greeted Sam shortly when he reached the entrance to the main control room. Sam nodded silently and led him inside.

The control room was the heart of Compound security; as spacious as the lab, only with more computers and holo-displays over the walls. With such an important building to protect, it was usually bustling with activity, but now there were only three people sitting around the main panel in the center of the room. All three—Bruce, Barnes, and Rhodey—were peering into holo-screens, surveying the damage from last night’s cyber attack.

Because the Compound had been attacked.

It was a quiet affair; the culprit had been in and out of the control room in a matter of minutes. They had dealt considerable damage—taken down servers, stolen terabytes of the Avengers’ encrypted files—but in terms of casualties, not a single guard had even been knocked out.

Like a ghost, Sam had told Tony that morning. A ghost who knew his way around the Compound. Who had the skills to hack into their system. Who was able to disable the Compound’s AI before it could sound the alarm.

A ghost who could crawl on walls.

Not a lot of people fit that description. And so Tony came, looked over the details of the attack, watched the security footage that Bruce brought up on his screen—the man in a black stealth suit, sticking up on a wall to avoid a roving guard. FRIDAY analyzed the footage too, but Tony didn’t need her verification that the masked attacker’s physique matched the known measurements of one Peter Parker. None of them really did.

“Shit,” was all Tony could mutter under his breath as the video ended. “Shit.”

“That’s all we caught; others cameras were disabled,” Bruce said. “As far as we know there was only one perpetrator. Don’t know where he headed after exiting the building, or his intentions with that data. But as to who that perpetrator was… Tony, I’m sorry. All the clues point in the same direction.”

Tony clenched his jaw. Of all the possible outcomes to his weeks-long search, all the scenarios both his dreams and his nightmares presented—he would have preferred almost anything but this. Anything but that dark figure that could only be one person, stealing around the very corridors Tony had just passed minutes ago. Anything but Peter Parker, so lost, and yet caught on camera so close to home: insult to injury waved right in their faces.

It was supposed to be a straightforward operation. Search for his kid, raid all the hideouts, wait for a ransom note as a very last resort. Instead, things had just turned much, much more complicated.

“Tones… at least he’s alive,” Rhodey said softly, when Tony remained silent.

“How?” Tony said through gritted teeth. “It’s barely been three weeks. How?”

Rhodey frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, look at him!” Tony waved at the screens where the security footage was still displayed. “Moves quickly, not under duress, they didn’t force him to do this. If they did, he would have done something, I know him, he—he would have left us some sort of clue.”

“And he came alone,” Rhodey said in realization. “They wouldn’t have sent him in alone.”

Tony nodded. “So how?”

As the meaning of Tony’s question sank in, everyone slowly turned to the one person in the room who had so far remained quiet.

“How?” Tony repeated to Bucky Barnes, his voice cracking at the single syllable.

The supersoldier met his gaze evenly. “There are ways. It's been less than a month, but… it’s possible.” Barnes shifted his feet and clenched the arms of his chair—not from any discomfort with him, Tony knew; he and Barnes had laboriously buried that hatchet years ago. But Bucky had always taken on a haunted demeanor lately whenever Peter was mentioned. The kid Wilson and Barnes had grown to train, to work with on missions, now captured by the very organization where the Winter Soldier had spent the majority of his life.

“There is some good news,” Bucky added after a pause. “The more they rushed the… process… the easier it will be to undo. If it’s really mind control… a good shock to his system, a strong reminder… there's hope, Tony. But the hard part is finding him.”

“Then let’s find him,” Sam declared simply, crossing his arms, and the room took a collective breath as if at a rallying cry. “At least this attack gives us a new lead. Tony? Rhodes mentioned something about a tracker in the stolen data’s encryption?”

“Yeah. It was, um.” Tony leaned back slowly in his chair. One of his frequent headaches started blooming, and he brought a thumb and middle finger up against his temples, using the same hand to push his sunglasses further up. “It’s embedded in all the encrypted folders. Dormant until they try to decrypt the files, then we’ll be able to trace it. Rhodey and I put it there; not even Peter knows.”

“So at least our top secret data’s safe for a while.”

“Already started a trace on the signal,” Rhodey said. “We get a hit, I’m there.”

“Good. Yeah, but look. We can’t keep this quiet much longer.” Sam glanced apologetically at Tony. “The sheer scale of this security breach… I’ll have to bring the rest of our people in on this.”

Tony sighed. “That’s fine, Cap. Appreciate the initial discretion. But there’s no point hiding it now that we know what we’re up against.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, linked his fingers together and unlinked them again. Fidgeting as his mind was fidgeting to string the sentence together. “A Hydra cell just launched a cyber attack on the Avengers,” Tony finally said, slowly drawing out each bitter word. “And they used Peter Parker to do it.”

-----

“Looks like I missed the party.” Rhodey looked over the setup in the otherwise abandoned warehouse—where computers, panels, and communication equipment had once stood, there was now nothing but a pile of smashed hardware. His AI sent a quick notification on his suit’s HUD: no one in the building but him. And yet from the trace they’d left behind, it was obvious this had been an important Hydra outpost until only minutes ago. Rhodey sighed. “We’ll be lucky to salvage any info from this scrap heap.”

He heard Tony curse over the comms. “FRIDAY lost the tracking signal. God. We were so close.”

Rhodey noticed one panel still blinking under a pile of scrap, and he walked over to inspect it. “Something must have tipped them off,” he continued as he shuffled through the scattered equipment. “A certain… Peter tingle, maybe?”

“Spider sense,” Tony mumbled. “He prefers to call it spider sense. And it doesn't work like—never mind. Point is, they're gone.”

“Stay there, Rhodey,” Sam’s voice instructed. “Buck and I are en route, we’ll handle the perimeter. They can’t have gotten too far.”

“Hydra? Yeah, yeah they could have,” Tony replied despondently.

“Tony…”

“Let him be, Sam,” Bucky interrupted understandingly.

“Well, since I got here first, this proves one thing, at least.” Rhodey decided to keep up the conversation and, hopefully, the team’s long-fragile morale as he leaned over the blinking panel. He paused for dramatic effect. “War Machine flies faster than Captain America.”

Even through the earpiece he could hear Tony’s snort. Rhodey smiled. “It’s conclusive, Wilson.”

“Nah, man, don’t do that to me,” Sam protested. “We came from the Compound. You were already downtown.”

“I keep suggesting a race.” Bucky’s voice. “And you two never race. Just get it over with…”

“I have wings, it’s not the same! Wind conditions are never…”

“Oh, wind conditions are the problem—”

As his team continued the good-natured bickering, something on the panel suddenly caught Rhodey’s eye. Pushing away a broken computer screen that covered half the panel’s surface, Rhodey saw that beside the blinking indicator LED, the panel contained a small glass case with multiple wires branching out.

And inside the case was a shining piece of black metal. A spider emblem.

“Falcon—” Rhodey didn’t get to finish.

The warning on his HUD registered at the same time as the kick. Rhodey keeled over in his heavy armor; when he turned around, his attacker was already crouched over the panel and removing the spider emblem from its case.

He wore a black stealth suit and mask. He was lanky, but apparently strong enough to knock the War Machine to his knees. He moved swiftly, too, tearing the spider emblem off, storing it somewhere in his suit, and aiming his wrists towards Rhodey all in a matter of seconds. Rhodey put an arm up in defense; the webs shot out and wrapped around it.

“Shit.” Rhodey scrambled up. “Peter!”

He barely registered his teammates’ voices through the comms, echoing the name in relief, in shock, in fear. Rhodey shot an electroshock bullet but the masked man dodged expertly, leaping up and latching onto the rafters.

“Hey, gray Iron Man!” the unmistakable voice of Peter Parker called down. “Don’t have any glasses in that fancy suit?”

“Peter Parker! Peter, stop!” Rhodey tore the webs off his armor and took off, flying after Peter, shooting three more shock bullets in succession. All three bounced off the metal rafters harmlessly. Peter darted around pillars, bounced off the walls, evaded Rhodey at every turn until he was mere feet away from the exit. “Spider-Man!” Rhodey yelled in frustration.

Peter turned. That split second was all Rhodey needed; he crashed into the kid and both of them tumbled to the floor. Rhodey used his armor to break the fall, and then he rolled Peter off of him until they were lying side by side, coughing and groaning. “Spider-Man?” Rhodey tried, getting up on his elbows. “Kid?”

Peter only moaned weakly.

“Sorry I have to do this.” Rhodey loaded another electroshock bullet. “But we have to get you back to May. And Tony—”

For the second time that day, Rhodey saw the hit coming too late. Peter flipped upward, connecting his knee with Rhodey’s chin, and kicked the older man away with his other foot. As Rhodey fell backwards, Peter landed squarely on his feet and shot a web towards the door.

By the time Rhodey recovered, Peter was gone.

----- Chapter 2: The Lake House -----

The lake house looked beautiful in the late afternoon light. Golden rays danced off the surface of the water, painting its green surroundings with a warm glow. Calm, idyllic.

None of that mood was reflected in its inhabitants, however. The woman’s shoulders sagged as she loaded a bag in the trunk of their car. Then a little girl, maybe eight or nine years old, followed the woman out of the house, holding a red and blue stuffed toy tightly to her chest as she got in the back seat.

Worst of all was the man. He limped slightly as he walked, shuffling forward like he wasn’t even trying to keep his head up. The sunlight glinted on his prosthetic arm and on the glasses hanging on the front of his shirt, but it seemed only shadows reached his face. He stopped by the trunk where the woman was still standing and she said something to him. After a few moments he kissed her cheek, then got in the front seat. The woman went around the driver’s side. And they were off.

Just in time, Peter Parker thought, lowering the binoculars. Now he could proceed with the mission.

-----

"Peter Parker. Peter Parker.” He clung to the words like a lifeline.

"Still repeating that shit?” A kick to the back.

Peter curled tighter around himself. “P-Peter… my name—Peter Par… Parker…”

“Ah, let him,” another voice replied. “He can keep the damn name. He’ll forget everything else, anyway.”

“We can’t risk a trigger!”

“Peter Par—” A sharper kick. He whimpered.

“We can’t lose time!” the second voice hissed. “Now get that miserable piece of shit back on the table.”

Arms reached out. Hands grabbed at him.

And Peter woke up. Everything rushed in at the same time, like it always did—the sound of crickets—the sliver of moonlight through the trees—the sweat that stuck his stealth suit to his back—and Peter took off his mask and buried his head in his hands. After several seconds, when he could look up again without feeling like the entire world was charging at his senses, Peter put the mask back on and began to take stock of his surroundings.

He must have overdone the nap. Damn nightmares. He’d only started getting them that day at the warehouse, and now they were growing worse.

No matter—it was still early evening. He couldn’t strike until the family was at least several hours away, in case he accidentally tripped their alarm, so he’d decided on the nap. But now he really needed to move.

Peter crept around the edges of the lake, always keeping behind the treeline. He couldn’t screw this up, too, not after his last mistake, forgetting the spider-shaped core in the rush to evacuate the old base. This was Peter’s chance to make it up to his team.

Besides—he didn’t think he could take another round of punishment.

He reached the edge of the paved driveway without incident. On this side he was closest to his target, the lake house’s garage; he could see it about a hundred yards away. But the trees ended here, so Peter moved more carefully, keeping in mind his team’s stern warnings about the AI that guarded this property.

It was lucky, though, that the AI was all Peter had to deal with tonight. Unlike his first job at the Compound, there would be no humans for him to have to sneak around. It had been a point of contention back when he first received this assignment; Peter’s team had insisted he simply take out the lake house’s residents, but Peter pushed back, suggesting he attacked when no one was home. He didn’t know why he felt so strongly about it—strongly enough to risk punishment by challenging orders. Satellite scans had shown there was no time in the family’s regular schedule when the house would be empty for several hours, so at first it had looked like Peter had no way to make his plan work.

Until today’s date had fallen from his lips. Peter had been so confident: the family would not be here tonight. They would be driving to the city, to Queens. Peter had no idea how he’d known any of that. He still didn't. But something about this date had just felt right, and after a quick check, his commander had allowed the slight change in schedule. And now here Peter was, sneaking up on an empty house. On the night of August tenth.

Peter reached the garage at last. He flattened himself against the wall, waiting, and when he heard nothing except the chirping crickets, he broke the lock on the door with his bare hands and stepped inside.

Hacking into the computers was easy. Soon Peter had started the transfer to a hard drive concealed in his suit, and he chanced a closer look around the room while the files loaded.

The place smelled like motor oil. There were a couple of sleek metal cylinders against the wall that could hold a grown human each, but besides that it was all worn benches, scattered electronic components, and half-finished projects. Well lived in, comfortable, familiar.

Peter startled. Familiar? He’d never been here before.

A small robot like a claw—no, two of them—three—stirred to life in a corner, whirring and snapping their claws at Peter. His senses gave him no trouble over the little guys, though, and Peter dismissed them as harmless. Besides, he doubted they could set off any kind of alarm at him. Then looking up from the robots, Peter’s eye caught on a plushie lying on a shelf—probably another of the girl’s. This one was red and gold, and Peter immediately recognized it as an Iron Man toy.

Huh. Iron Man. Peter’s team had told him this garage was another Avengers-related target, like the Compound, but they hadn’t specified much beyond that. Was Peter hacking into Iron Man’s systems right now? He smirked. That was pretty cool.

Hey, you wanna hear a thought I just had? Iron Man’s retired, right?

Peter blinked, and involuntarily took a step back. What was that? He couldn’t be having nightmares while he’s awake… could he? Crap, this place was messing with his senses. Peter disconnected his hard drive the second the transfer was complete, and turned to go.

Peter froze at the door. He could have sworn he’d taken out that lock just minutes ago. But now, even applying his full strength at the handle, the door wouldn’t budge.

Then a hissing sound came from the other side of the room. Peter spun back around, fists clenched in preparation for a fight. One of the metal cylinders slid open, an Iron Man suit glided out—but it was a female voice that spoke from it.

“Good evening, Peter,” it—she—said softly. “Leaving so soon?”

Peter’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes darted around the room—no escape except the door—he could rip it from its hinges if that’s what it came to, but he needed a distraction. Peter decided to entertain the suit for a while. “You’re the AI security guard,” he deduced. “Though not the same one I disabled back at the Compound. Driving this suit—you’re much more complex, aren’t you?”

“That’s correct,” the suit replied. “Compound security tried to keep you out. But that’s not my objective tonight… Spider-Man."

Spider-Man. Peter clenched his fists a little tighter and backed up against the wall. Spider-Man. War Machine had called him that, too, back at the warehouse. But it didn’t make sense.

Peter knew Spider-Man. He knew the Avengers, Spider-Man was one of them, and they were the target, they were his team’s—they were his target. What kind of game was this robot lady playing?

Robot lady powered down the suit and landed a few feet away from Peter. “Boss was right about the reaction that might elicit.”

"Boss," Peter muttered. He found a headache starting to grow at the AI's words, and his heart pumped faster, but curiosity won out. "Your boss, you mean Iron Man?"

"Tony Stark, yes. You could call us a team." The suit stepped closer, one arm outstretched. "You were part of that team, Peter."

Team. His team— "Stop right there," Peter hissed, thrusting a hand out. "Alright, look. You—you can unlock the door, right now, or I can bust it open. I bet your boss wouldn’t like that, huh? Your call, FRIDAY."

The suit lowered its arms. "You remember my name."

Remember my—

"No!" Peter growled. His headache was raging now. The ambient cricket noises from outside pounded like drums in his ears. "No—"

Remember my name.

"Peter Parker. Peter Parker.” He clung to the words like a lifeline.

They tried to wring it from him, they really did. Tried to beat, shock, drown it out. But Peter held tight.

He remembered his name.

“—member your name. What else do you remember, Peter?” the AI prompted in that same gentle voice that didn’t make sense.

Peter brought fists up to press against his temples. Not another nightmare, not a waking one, not now. He took a breath. “Okay.” Peter swallowed. “Okay, this was your call.” He leapt up. And tackled the suit to the ground.

“Word to the wise, Pete: when fighting a super-powered robot, go for the core.”

Arc reactor technology, in the center of the chest, powered all Iron Man suits. Peter went for it.

He smashed the metal inward—surely that would cause some kind of damage—and FRIDAY grabbed at his arm. Peter felt the sting of the needle that penetrated even his stealth suit.

“That’s only to get you to sleep. Peter, calm—”

Peter struck the head. Arm. Chest again, in quick succession. Then the original hit to the reactor must have taken its effect, because the suit loosened its grip, and Peter broke free.

“Use your strengths, kid. The bot’s intuition is artificial, yours isn’t.”

We webbed FRIDAY down before she could recover. Then Peter lunged at the door. It took a few good kicks for it to fly free of its hinges, but then Peter was free, leaping out into the night air.

FRIDAY caught him mid-jump.

“We stocked your web-removing formula—”

Another punch to the chestpiece. As FRIDAY carried him upwards, Peter curled into a ball and fell, rolling on the grass. FRIDAY turned back and hovered over him.

“Peter,” she pleaded. “The drug will take full effect in seconds. Please. Don’t get yourself hurt.”

Peter shot another web. Whatever FRIDAY said about web removers, it would surely take some time with all that sticky material criss crossing its arms and legs. He sprinted toward the lake.

“Water. Last resort. It’s all electronics, after all—”

“Didn’t you make your own suits waterproof?” Peter said.

Peter halted.

He was at the edge of the pier, staring at the dark waters below. A wide-eyed, panting, shaking reflection stared back.

“Yeah, well, nothing’s indestructible, so listen up. If you’re going on this mission, I need you going prepared—”

That voice. His voice. His own heartbeat, drumming in his ears. That voice. Repulsors starting up behind him. That voice.

For the first time that night, Peter closed his eyes, and he didn’t run from the nightmares, from his thoughts.

He listened.

“I’m listening! I’m listening.” Peter grinned, perched on the edge of the table. “Need the good robot’s expertise if I’m gonna go fight evil robots.”

An orange hit his head. Peter laughed.

“Don’t call me a robot.” That voice.

“Peter?” That voice.

Peter turned. The suit stood at the other end of the pier, webs hanging from its arms and legs like white strings waving in the breeze. The suit’s glowing eyes stared at him intently, but when it spoke it wasn’t with the AI’s female voice anymore. It was with the voice from Peter’s head.

“Pete—” a man’s voice choked out. “I’m sorry, I should have—seen FRIDAY’s call sooner, I—damn it.” The suit began to walk toward him. Peter tensed as it got closer, and the man must have noticed, because he stopped a few feet away and put his hands up. “Peter.” He sounded tired. He sounded gentle. “You—when you were fighting, FRIDAY injected you with something, it’s just to get you to sleep, but your metabolism’s fighting it. I—I know you don’t remember me. You don’t know me, but—I’m not going to let you go. So, could you stop fighting, ‘cause you’re only going to get hurt.” The suit lowered its arms. “Please.”

Peter didn’t move. He just stood and stared. For a long, long time.

Then he stepped forward. Another step, and—

“Stop fighting. You’re only going to get hurt.”

They wrestled him onto the table. Peter fought. Peter screamed.

He fell into the suit’s arms.

“Peter?” a metal hand patted his back tentatively. “Buddy?”

Peter screamed, and the current only coursed more painfully through his brain. Peter screamed, and no one answered.

“T-Tony?”

“Peter,” the man answered. Even through the suit’s speakers Peter heard the man’s breath catch in his throat. “God, are you—”

“Tony Stark?” Peter frowned. He pulled himself back on his feet, the suit’s arms still around his. “Tony Stark. Iron Man?”

“I—yes,” Tony said haltingly. “Do you re—”

Peter rushed forward and caught the suit in an embrace.

Iron Man.

Iron Man, the voice in his head. The metal arms wrapped loosely, hesitantly around him. Peter, on the other hand, gripped the back of the suit with all his might.

The voice in his head, nightmares. Nightmares, pain. Peter swayed towards the edge of the pier, taking the suit with him.

Pain, punishment. Complete missions, avoid punishment. Peter’s thoughts clicked together, not neatly, like a solved puzzle, but harshly, like a lock on a cell door.

Iron Man, Avenger.

The Avengers, his mission.

Iron Man, his target.

Peter leapt off the side of the pier, taking the suit with him.

“Water. Last resort—”

The suit was already damaged. The arc reactor caved inwards. The suit let go of Peter in the water.

And Peter sank, down, down. It was so cold.

“FRIDAY injected you with something, it’s just to get you to sleep—”

The suit sank with him, its lights flickering out. Then Peter saw other lights shine above the water. He smiled. Lights were pretty.

“You don’t know me, but—I’m not going to let you go.”

Peter felt the splash rather than heard it. A metal hand found his, and Peter was pulled up.

Peter gasped as he broke the surface, sucking in air. A suit was carrying him, and it landed on the shore and lay him on the ground. Another suit, a purple suit. He’d barely registered that fact when Peter’s eyelids closed of their own accord. He sank into the darkness.

“Peter?” came a woman’s voice.

Zap, came the electricity.

And Peter slept.

-----

Peter woke up in the dark. He was lying on his back on a hard surface. The remains of a headache was still throbbing between his ears, when the lights suddenly came on, and Peter recoiled painfully.

“So you’re finally awake.” Peter turned his head slowly towards the source of the voice. He forced his eyes to pry open.

His commander stood over him, glowering. Another two members of Hydra—of Peter’s team—stood behind the man.

Peter couldn’t explain the sinking despair in his stomach at the sight of them, where there should have been relief instead.

“Welcome back, Peter Parker.” The commander leaned over the table, over Peter. “Mission report."

-----

It was cold, so cold.

Peter lay stripped to his shirt and boxers, but the cold of the lake still seeped into his skin. And he had to give his report that way, arms stiff at his sides inside their metal restraints, his voice still shivering.

He told them about the operation. He told them about the hard drive, and the data, and the mission’s success—

The commander scowled at that word. Peter shuddered and moved on.

He told them about the AI. And about the suit, and Tony Stark remotely taking control. He told them how he wrecked one Iron Man suit and got rescued by another. And then he stopped, shut his mouth like a good soldier, shivering.

It was so cold.

“Both suits were remotely operated,” the commander spoke after a long silence. “We had to destroy the second by electrocution. When we rescued you. By jet.”

Peter braced himself before asking, “What about the house?”

“And why is that your primary concern?” the man snarled. “Good old Captain America arrived just as we loaded you on the jet, so the damn house is safe, soldier. We are not!”

Peter swallowed. “I’m sorry, sir.”

A fist slammed on the table. “Do you have any idea! Any… your missions call for stealth.” A hand grabbed Peter’s chin, forcing his face to the side. “I thought that was made clear. Ten times. A hundred times. That is why we send you.”

Peter swallowed again, but this time it caught in his throat. “Yes, sir,” he croaked meekly.

“You have one assignment left. Until then, think on how to avoid your ever-increasing mistakes.”

The hand released him, and Peter stretched his jaw. The men had just reached the door when Peter remembered to call out, “Wait!”

His commander walked straight out. The other two soldiers turned back instead. “What?” one asked sharply.

“I—I can’t…” Peter struggled to get out the words. “I can’t thermoregulate.”

“What?”

“Thermoregulate,” Peter rasped. “I—I don’t know why. But I’m still so… cold… please can I—” Peter tried to lift his arms. The restraints didn’t budge.

“What—what the hell? You think this was just another mistake? Like leaving the spider core microchip behind at the last base?” His teammate reached for the door. “You fucked up, kid, so you stay where you are. And be thankful we aren’t sending your brain back through the fryer. Yet.” And the door slammed shut.

-----

Peter lay shivering on the table, hour after hour. No amount of shaking made the heat flow through his body, but the room was significantly less cold than the lake, and Peter knew he wouldn’t die. Just lie shivering, hour after hour.

He knew he couldn’t bring his own temperature up, except ever so slowly. He knew that. He couldn’t explain how he knew that, though.

He couldn’t explain how he knew about a lot of things.

Like Spider-Man. And FRIDAY. And Tony Stark.

And the fact that, as he shivered in the cold, Peter’s thoughts drifted to an image of a couch in front of a fireplace. Of a thick blanket, and a woman with gentle hands and a cheeky smile that draped it over his shoulders. And the warmth of her arms when he sunk into them.

Peter held on to that thought even if he didn’t understand it; he needed all the warmth he could get. It was going to be a long night.

-----

Many miles away, another group of people were having a long night of their own.

May Parker sat glued to the holo-screens of the Compound control room. The others had drifted in and out throughout the night, sometimes keeping her company, sometimes taking care of other important matters. Sam and Rhodes had just returned from the lake house a couple of hours ago. After a while, Tony and Pepper excused themselves to the Compound living quarters, to tuck Morgan in for the night. Dr. Banner, May knew, was still awake in the lab, with Barnes working closely beside him.

It was nice knowing how the team pulled together after the night’s distressing events. But that comfort was dampened in May’s mind, knowing the contrast to Peter’s current situation. Her kid was alone, he was cold, and his spider DNA meant he couldn’t thermoregulate as well as other humans. May knew every shaky breath that her nephew took.

Because displayed on the screens in front of her, were Peter’s vitals.

“Hey,” a voice greeted, and Tony walked in, two mugs and a plate in hand. “Care for company?”

May nodded at him. “Only if you brought coffee.”

Tony handed her one of the mugs, and they sat in silence for a while, monitoring the screens.

After a few minutes Tony offered, “You can turn in, you know. I’ll take a shift.”

May clenched his jaw. “Not tonight.”

Tony nodded understandingly and took a sip from his own mug. “Pep and Morgan are sleeping, but I couldn’t. I kept thinking… anything else we could have done tonight…”

May shook her head. “You and Pepper piloted the suits as soon as you could, Tony. And this microchip, I'm thankful you had the foresight pre-programming FRIDAY to inject it in Peter’s arm along with the sedative.”

“It could be giving us more than this. I’ve been trying the whole night, May, but the tracking signal’s still being deflected. These vitals are all we can get for now.”

“More than we had yesterday. Tonight’s not a night for beating yourself up.”

Tony sighed. “I just need to clear my head.” He traced the line on the screen, tracking the slow rise and fall of Peter's heart rate. “And I don’t want him to be alone.”

May didn’t answer, only gazed at the monitored vitals—such impersonal graphs, and yet the only connection they had to Peter now.

After another long pause, Tony held out the plate he’d brought in, and May noticed for the first time what it contained: a few slices of cake, the remains of their interrupted party in May’s apartment earlier this evening.

Tony handed her a fork. “Happy birthday, Peter,” he said sadly.

May sighed as she reached for the plate. “Happy birthday, Peter.”

----- Chapter 3: The Tower -----

There are moments in life that change a person, even if they don’t realize it until later. That night at the lake house changed Peter Parker. He knew, even before they marched him into the debriefing room for further questioning, he was no longer fit for his team.

Peter had slept fitfully that cold night, but in what snatches of sleep he had been able to grab, he dreamt of that woman by the fireplace. Peter woke up fully convinced he had been dreaming of his mother.

And when he couldn’t sleep, he thought of the man from his flashbacks—nightmares—whatever they were. The man who gave him advice on how to fight killer robots. Who sent a suit to save him from drowning. Tony Stark, the Avenger, the enemy.

That was all Peter knew for sure: the enemy, the mission, the team, Hydra. Nothing beyond that. For the first time, Peter asked himself why.

Why he had nightmares of being held down on a table, electricity coursing through his body, screaming. Why those thoughts always left him shaking, when the echoes of Tony Stark’s voice in his head did not. Why the War Machine at the warehouse, and the suits at the lake, took more care with him than his team ever did.

Peter must have had a life before this. Before missions. Before electrocution sessions and cold nights lying alone. Before Hydra.

And that night, Peter knew he had to leave.

-----

He held on to that resolve all throughout the questioning.

"Last night you said the suit stopped you at the pier. But you had a considerable head start. Why were you not able to get away?"

"The sedative had kicked in by then, sir," Peter lied.

"But you told us the drug's effects only started to take hold as you were drowning."

"I misremembered, sir," Peter lied.

On and on it went. Peter dodged, and maneuvered, and hoped it was enough to keep him from punishment. Or worse, from being reprogrammed, and having to start clawing his way back up all over again.

Just when he thought the interview was over, Peter's commander took a small black spider emblem out of his pocket. "Do you know what this is, Parker?"

"A hidden microchip, sir." Peter gulped. "I made the mistake of forgetting it at the old base. I was punished."

"This microchip came from a suit," the other man continued, circling around Peter. "A very expensive piece of Stark tech. With very impressive capabilities. You are helping us rebuild the software to control it, and many others like it. That was your mission."

"Yes, sir."

Peter caught the exact moment when his commander's eyes darkened. "You lost sight of your mission, soldier."

Without warning, the man slapped the metal spider on the back of Peter's head. The legs extended, wrapping around the sides of Peter's face, and he shouted in pain as a burst of electricity shot out of them. Peter fell to his knees.

His commander continued circling him like a hawk, unbothered. "You need to be reminded."

-----

Bucky and Bruce ran into the control room where Tony was waiting. The holo-screens with Peter's vitals displayed irregular peaks in his brain activity, the implications of which the three men knew very well.

"How long has this—"

"Ten minutes," Tony answered quickly. "Not stopping."

Bucky stared closely at the graphs. "Doesn't seem to be a high voltage."

"Bursts of current, too, not steady," Bruce added.

Tony braced himself to ask. "So this isn't reprogramming?"

"It looks closer to—to torture, Tony," Bruce replied.

Suddenly Bucky turned to the other two men. "That's good," he realized. Tony stared daggers at him, and Bucky put up a hand. "Hydra doesn't double back. They wouldn't be doing this if they could simply wipe Peter's memories instead."

"So they torture him for what? For punishment?"

"It's severely affecting his brain, Tony," Bruce said in a neutral voice, eyes still locked on the screens. "There are other ways to punish a guy. No, this is a calculated move."

"When brainwashing doesn't work… There are other ways to make people do what you want," Bucky said darkly.

"That's the second time you said—brainwashing not working, not wiping Peter's memories," Tony said, deep in thought. His head snapped up when he realized the answer to his own question. "Because it takes too long."

"I think so, too. This—this is a desperate move," Bruce said. "They still need Peter, but they also need to strike soon. I mean, we're closing in on them from all angles, Rhodey's still hounding their decryption signal, Sam got some good shots at their jet last night."

"My best guess?" Bucky pointed at the screens. "Mind control. The brute kind."

Tony clenched his shaking fists. “How do we combat the brute kind?”

Bucky took a breath before responding, “Head-on.”

The three men fell quiet, watching each other, watching the screens. Tony could almost imagine Peter’s screams with every peak of the tracker. And yet in this room it was eerily, almost completely silent.

Finally it ended. Peter’s neural readings returned to normal. Everyone took a collective breath.

Bruce cleared his throat. “Where do we start? We have a good guess where they’re hitting next.”

Tony exhaled as he stood up. His mind was in a whirlwind, save one grounding point, one last hope, and he let that thought steady his feet. “Keep an eye on the kid for me. There’s something I need to do.” And he strode out of the room.

-----

“Keep an eye on the kid.” The quinjet door shut, and they were off.

Peter sat clad in his usual black suit and mask. Beside him, three of his teammates checked and double-checked everyone’s parachutes. For the first time on a mission, Peter was not going alone. Because for the first time on a mission, Hydra no longer trusted him.

They had good reason not to.

The metal spider was still attached to the back of Peter’s head, under his mask. How his teammates reacted to the new implement was fairly revealing. Gone were the intimidation tactics, the threats, the constant reminders of his past mistakes. Now the Hydra agents ordered him about without even pretending he was anything more than an expendable asset, with no choice but to obey.

They had good reason to.

“Two minutes from the drop zone. Get up, kid.”

And it was “kid” now, not “soldier.” Peter delayed one second before standing up.

Zap.

The electrocution from the spider emblem wasn’t strong enough to incapacitate him, but hell did it hurt. Peter stumbled and barely caught himself from falling to his knees.

“Fuck, commander,” the agent spoke into his comms. “It was only a second.”

“Just a little reminder.” Peter heard the voice in his earpiece, too. “But he won’t be needing much reminders once the mission starts. Will you, Parker?”

“No, sir.” Peter grit his teeth.

Zap, came a second shock. Then a third, fourth, fifth, in quick succession.

“A primitive solution. But fast. And effective.”

Peter was on his hands and knees in the interrogation room, the commander circling him like he was prey.

“You will not disobey. You will not even think of disobeying.”

Another wave, stronger this time, and Peter screamed on the floor.

“What is best is you comply.”

Peter shut his eyes at the memory, at the pain. “I’m fully compliant, sir.”

Ten seconds into the drop zone, they jumped. Peter gaped at the twinkling lights of New York City only for a moment, then focused his mind on the task at hand. Namely, not dying. Using his senses, Peter adjusted his course and that of the three Hydra agents with him, avoiding the overhead sensors that only he could detect. Soon they all landed smoothly on the rooftop of their target skyscraper.

“First phase, good,” his teamma— one of the Hydra agents, said. “Now the security, kid.”

Peter had a hunch for this, knowing just where to strike, what codes to input into his tablet to disable security. Almost as if he were intimately acquainted with the source program itself. It was how he had snuck into the Compound on that first mission. However—Peter stared at the red alert on the tablet screen—this wasn’t the same as the Compound.

“What the hell?” another agent looked at the error message on the tablet over Peter’s shoulder.

“It—I—this must be the other program,” Peter stammered. “The one from the lake house. I can’t get in.” Peter braced himself, but no electric shock came from the spider-metal on the back of his head. So the commander knew he wasn’t lying.

Then, as suddenly as it had come, the on-screen alert disappeared. “Security disabled” flashed on Peter’s tablet.

“There you go. What did you do?”

“I—nothing,” Peter answered truthfully. Something pricked at his senses. A feeling of being watched, and not just by the man controlling an electrocution machine on Peter’s head. Strangely enough, that feeling of someone else watching him gave Peter a sense of assurance more than danger. But he fought those thoughts down and took a deep breath. “Alright, we’re clear. Let’s go.”

The cold night air blew around them as they made their way across the rooftop. Peter typed in some more commands, unlocked a door, and in no time at all, the four Hydra agents had breached the Avengers Tower.

-----

Something was wrong.

Peter led the team through dark halls, weapons at the ready, but they encountered no one in the whole building. Just like they’d encountered no one on the ride down the elevator. And saw no one in any of the multiple rooms they passed.

Something was wrong.

“I see your heart rate picking up,” the commander’s voice said in Peter’s ear. “Even from my comfortable seat, this is all starting to look uncomfortably like a trap. If you had any part in this…”

Peter didn’t. He could swear he didn’t, but he kept silent, continuing to lead the agents down the hall, and bracing for another burst of pain to his skull. The commander never set off the device, though, and Peter breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Until they reached the building’s main control room. Peter unlocked the door. One man stayed posted outside as a lookout, and Peter and the two other agents entered.

At first the room seemed like the rest of the Tower, empty, dark. But that was just the problem. Too empty. Too dark.

“Something’s wrong,” barely registered in Peter’s mind, when the attack began.

The bullets came from out of nowhere, shooting straight for the three other Hydra agents, and electro-shocking them to unconsciousness. The lookout recovered quickly and made to enter the room, when the door automatically shut in his face. Then, for good measure, another round of shocking bullets was fired at the two agents lying on the ground. And Peter was left alone with their attacker.

At first, not knowing where the firing came from, Peter merely braced himself in the middle of the room, ready to dodge the bullets when they came. But nothing ever shot at him. Now with the other agents knocked out in the dark, Peter faced the unknown enemy, relying only on his senses. He had just located the new figure in the room, and readied his web shooters to strike back, when the lights suddenly turned on.

A high-pitched tone came on with the lights. Peter crouched on the ground, arms up to protect both his eyes and ears against the sudden onslaught. He felt all his senses torn apart, compromised. And then the unknown figure stepped in front of him.

The high-pitched sound stopped. A faint whine remained in Peter’s ears, but through it he could just make out a man’s voice speaking to him. That man’s voice. The one from the lake house, from his dreams.

“Peter?” Tony Stark repeated, holding out a metal hand.

Peter shoved it away and leapt back, getting shakily to his feet. Holding out both arms in a defensive position, Peter caught his breath, and for the first time took a good look at his assailant.

It looked like the first red suit, the one from the garage. The one Peter had destroyed in the lake. But this one was undamaged, and still holding out a hand to Peter in what was probably supposed to be a calming gesture.

“Hey, FRIDAY,” Peter panted, his chest still pounding. “New suit?”

“I have a lot of suits. One of them saved you, if you recall, right after you ditched the first one in the lake.”

Peter grit his teeth. Of course he knew one of the suits—of course he knew Tony Stark, and the woman driving the purple suit, had saved his life that night. But things had changed. He couldn’t afford to think about it, to think about that fateful night at all, not with an electric killing machine stuck to the back of his brain.

“Look, man. I’m getting what I came for, and you can’t stop me any more than you could last time. Just throw in the towel and walk away now.” Peter’s voice shook.

“Tonight’s not gonna be like last time,” Tony replied determinedly.

“Walk. Away. Or I’ll wreck this suit, too, just like last time—”

“Tonight’s not gonna be like last time,” Tony repeated louder. And then he did something Peter never expected.

The suit retracted. Nano-tech particles moved in waves, draining like water in a sink towards the reactor casing in the middle of the suit. Until the only thing left standing in front of Peter, was not a metal suit, but a person.

“Peter Parker,” Tony said, taking a step forward, “tonight we’re taking you home.”

-----

Peter froze. The night he spent dreaming of the woman by the fireplace raced through his mind. Yet now, being offered the exact thing he had wanted then, Peter had no idea how to respond.

“Take me home? I want to, but there’s a killing machine on my head.”

“I want to, but there’s a Hydra jet nearby that could attack any second.”

“I want to, if I knew where home was.”

“I want to.”

“I want to, but...”

Peter’s lips seemed to move of their own accord. “I can’t,” he said in a small voice.

Tony’s eyes widened at Peter’s change in demeanor. He took another step closer. “You… okay. Okay, you know that high tone earlier? Messed up your comms. Hydra can’t hear us, at least for the moment. Peter… let me help.”

Peter ripped off his mask, and threw it to the floor between him and Tony. His hands shook, his lips shook. “He’ll kill me!” He turned his head, showing off the metal device stuck to the back. “If either of us tries anything, he’ll kill me.”

Tony took one good look at it and cursed. Then he stopped, as if listening to something on his own comms.

“I’m supposed to kill you,” Peter said. Tony’s head snapped up. “Those were my orders, if—if anyone interfered. And he can make me do it, too—”

“Kid—”

“He can make me do anything, I know, he tested it out—”

“Calm down, we’ll think of something—”

“I take you down, or my damn brain is toast!”

“You’re not dying!” Tony clenched his jaw, hand still outstretched towards Peter. “Not tonight, not on my watch.”

Peter shook his head. The familiar ache was starting to build again, the humming between his ears. “I don’t feel so good,” he choked out.

Tony froze. And then the older man must have said something in response—his lips were moving—but suddenly all Peter could hear, all he could focus on, was the commander’s voice in his ear.

“You know what to do, soldier.” The threat in his tone was clear.

“I’m sorry,” Peter rasped. And then he lunged forward.

-----

It was never a fair fight.

Tony summoned his suit back, but not before Peter got a couple of good hits in him. Knocked down on the floor, he saw his own electroshock bullets hurtling towards him from Peter’s gun, and Tony rolled away with milliseconds to spare. God, retirement had taken its toll.

“Peter…” Tony groaned, getting up on his knees. He was met with a kick to the chest.

“Tony?” Bruce’s voice echoed in his helmet. “Tony, you need to get close enough to—”

“Yeah, I know, I’m trying!” He rolled again, and the chair Peter swung crashed into the floor where Tony had just been.

It was never a fair fight.

Tony flew up and around Peter. “FRIDAY, lights out!” As darkness fell, Tony approached from behind, his targeting locked on to the device behind Peter’s head, it was within his sight—

Peter turned and fired a shocking bullet straight at him.

As Tony fell to the floor, shaking with the electricity, he realized just how close Peter had come to killing him, if he had really tried. But the electroshock bullets—a few kicks—a damn chair—Peter wasn’t really trying, was he?

It was never a fair fight.

“No,” Tony heard Peter say, as the kid stepped closer to his prone form. “No, look, Stark’s out, I swear that shock was strong enough, I—”

And then it happened. Through his HUD, Tony saw the sudden heat signature that exploded behind Peter’s head, the electronic signal, the way the kid’s body convulsed. Peter fell to his knees.

“No!” Tony screamed. Peter turned, his eyes met Tony’s—and for the first time Tony saw all the fear behind them.

It was never a fair fight. Tony was battling Peter. But Peter had to fight both the Avenger and Hydra.

Slowly, Tony got up. And he did the only thing he could think of to help his kid. He leaped forward and tackled Peter to the ground.

Peter rolled with the hit, pinning Tony under him—he’d really forgotten how strong the kid was—and Peter sent punch after punch flying. Never to the head, though—even Tony realized that. But as their fight continued, as Tony got pummeled, the shocks to Peter’s brain stopped. And for now that was all Tony wanted.

“Sam, how’s it going on your end?” Tony hissed.

“Almost there, keep him busy!” Sam replied through the comms.

Another solid hit to his suit. “Sure as hell trying to!” Needing a break, Tony turned his thrusters on and slid off from under Peter, hovering some way above the floor. Tony heard the whoosh of web shooters and he narrowly dodged Peter slamming into him mid-air.

“Hey! Flying is cheating!” Peter hollered as he passed. Tony recognized it for what it was, though—a call to keep Tony aware of Peter’s location in the darkness.

Tony wondered, not for the first time since that night at the lake house, how much of the old Peter was starting to come back. And whether it would take sooner than anticipated to restore the rest of him.

Assuming they could Peter through the night at all.

Keep the kid safe now, worry about the memories later, Tony chided himself. He turned the lights of his suit on, a beacon for Peter to spot. “Just trying to keep the fight fair!” Tony called out, and he braced himself for impact.

-----

“Rhodey! Your 3 o’clock—”

“I see him,” Rhodey said through the comms. “Coming in hot.”

Sam locked the quinjet on his targeting system and increased speed. “Approaching from the back end.”

“Good. Let’s get this son of a bitch, Cap.”

Sam smiled. “I’ll race ya.”

-----

Tony dodged yet another of Peter’s swinging kicks. “Sam! Update?”

“They’re almost at the jet, Tony!” Bucky answered for him. “The rest of us are preparing to storm the base. When we get the commander, and Sam and Rhodey get the quinjet, it’s over. Just you and the kid now, Stark, hang on.”

Peter swung again; Tony decided to let this one hit. They’d been playing this cat-and-mouse game for a while now, with fewer and fewer shocks coming to the device on Peter’s head. Tony could only hope Hydra would buy the facade to the end.

“You hear that, Pete?” Tony whispered to himself. “Just hang on.”

-----

Hydra held out to the end. But the Winter Soldier, and the team of Avengers he led, captured the base eventually. Bucky stormed into their control room and pinned the commander to the wall without slowing a step.

“Kill switch!” he demanded. Too late; the commander popped a pill, and died foaming from the mouth.

“It’s gotta be here…” Bruce scoured the panels and screens. “Tony said he had a finger on Peter’s button the whole time, it’s gotta be here!”

Then the screens blazed red. An alarm blared throughout the captured base.

And up on the main screen, the countdown started.

-----

“Wilson! Rhodey!” the urgent call came through their earpieces.

“Bruce, we got the jet!” Rhodey replied. “Crew’s secure, we’re flying back—”

“No, abort!” Bruce shouted. “They tripped self-destruct on all assets! We’re evacuating the base, crash the plane in the water and get out of there!”

Rhodey and Sam made to clear the plane they’d just taken over, when Rhodey suddenly realized something. “Wait, all assets?” he said into the comms. “Self-destructing all assets?”

“Everything’s set to blow!”

Rhodey stopped dead in his tracks. “What about Peter?”

-----

“Peter!” Tony yelled.

They had just been exchanging half-hearted blows, when the kid suddenly crumpled to the floor, clutching his head. FRIDAY immediately turned the lights back on and Tony rushed to Peter’s side.

“FRIDAY, talk to me!”

“It’s a different signal, Boss,” FRIDAY replied quickly. “Current’s going steady!”

Peter curled into a fetal position, a scream ripped from his throat.

“Cap!” Tony shouted.

“Tony! Barnes deactivated Peter’s manual kill switch. But we got another problem, the device has a self-destruct too, and it’s been tripped! You’ve got three minutes to—”

Tony tuned the rest out. As Peter continued writhing on the floor, Tony knelt and placed one suited hand behind the device on Peter’s head.

“It’s locked tight!” FRIDAY reported. “You can’t get it off in time without damaging the neural links.”

“Or setting the bomb off early,” Tony bit out. Below him, Peter screamed.

Tony stared at the electrocution device. That black metal torturing his kid, cruelly and ironically shaped like a spider itself. Tony stared. Shaped like a spider.

“FRIDAY…?”

“Yes,” FRIDAY answered like she’d read his mind. “It’s from the suit he was wearing when he was captured, modified, of course.”

The answer fell neatly in place in Tony’s mind. “Then it’s a good thing I brought backup.” He held his hand out, and a smooth metal disk flew at him from where Tony had stashed it in the room.

“Tones!” Rhodey’s voice. “Two minutes!”

Tony leaned over Peter’s still twitching body. “Peter, look at me. Look at me, kid. I need you to trust me.” Peter looked up, fear and tears and pain in his eyes. “Trust me,” Tony repeated, laying the metal disk on Peter’s chest. The kid didn’t fight him, and almost imperceptibly, Peter nodded.

Tony activated the disk.

-----

Peter’s head felt on fire. Peter’s chest felt cold.

In his head, the current ripped through everything, memories and feelings and pain. On his chest, the metal disk spread out, crawling like ants but cool on his burning skin.

His head felt like it would burst. The spreading metal on his chest held him together.

Until the cool metal wasn’t only on Peter’s chest anymore—until it was all over him, covering his body. Covering the electrocutor on his head.

Fire fought cold, and Peter screamed.

He heard Tony shouting. He heard the ticking of a countdown clock on the back of his head.

He heard the click.

And Peter passed out.

-----

Peter passed out in Tony’s arms. Tony cradled the body close to his chest, listening for his breathing, feeling for the pulse that would tell him whether his world had just fallen apart in his arms.

“Boss,” FRIDAY’s voice came an eternity later, “vitals holding steady.”

Tony exhaled the weight of a planet off his lungs, and lay his head down on top of Peter’s. “I got you, kid.” Breathing in, out. The nanotech Spider-Man suit deactivated, and as the helmet retracted, the electrocution device dropped cleanly from Peter’s head. Tony held his kid closer. “I got you.”

----- Chapter 4: Home -----

The Compound was peaceful in the mornings.

Early sunlight filtered in through the windows, the gold just hitting the green of the treetops. And it was quiet. Where the screens and beeping vitals monitors had felt like intruders in the night, in the morning their presence was subdued, making it easier to hear the bedridden person being monitored when he began to stir.

The moment her nephew opened his eyes, May was right by his side.

He struggled for words, she couldn’t come up with anything to say, so between the two of them it was silent for a while. Finally Peter spoke. “You’re… you’re the woman from my dreams.” Peter furrowed his brow. “I want to say… Mom… but somehow it doesn’t fit.”

May took his hand. “I’m your Aunt May, Peter. It’s… it’s good to have you back.”

“I don’t know—I don’t know if I’m back. I still…” Peter shut his eyes. “The dreams and nightmares… and the memories… they come in pieces. I—I don’t know my whole life yet. Or even… who I am.”

“We’ll help you. The whole team will help you.” May smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Peter’s forehead. “To start—your name is Peter Parker. And you’re my kid.”

The two of them spent the whole morning together. The Compound was peaceful in the mornings.

-----

Peter pieced it together, slowly.

His aunt was named May Parker. The man monitoring his recovery from the incident at the Tower, was Bruce. And the other frequent visitor to Peter’s room was already familiar. The person who saved his life, who his aunt bantered easily with, and who always brought them both some kind of hot beverage, that was Tony Stark.

It was Tony who sat with May at Peter’s bedside, filling in the gaps. Tony who explained the kidnapping, the brainwashing, their search. Tony who always reminded Peter to take his recovery easy, and always looked at him with such warmth.

There were others on the team, too. The first time Peter was able to leave the medbay, a man introducing himself as Sam led him to the shared living quarters. Another guy, Rhodey, dropped beside him on the couch and passed him some pizza, and Peter recognized his voice from the fight at the warehouse. They ended up having a good laugh about it.

He met Pepper. And Morgan. Even got reacquainted with FRIDAY.

And Bucky Barnes. Though usually quiet, the man turned out to be among the most outspokenly encouraging about Peter’s recuperation. “It gets better, kid. I know the memories come back in pieces, and it can be frustrating.” He had a faraway look in his eyes, and Peter could tell the man made an effort to make his tone light. “It’s a long road. But… believe me, it gets better.”

-----

It did get better. But not all at once.

Along with memories of tinkering in the lab, came memories of being strapped to a table. Along with dreams of warm fireplaces in a cozy apartment, came nightmares of the burning electricity in Peter’s head.

But that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was when Peter dreamed about the Tower, about beating the enemy up, except this time Peter didn’t pull his punches. And when he drew back he would be staring at Tony’s bloodied face. Or Bucky’s. Or Sam’s. Or May’s.

One night, suffocated by his own mind, Peter escaped to the Compound rooftop. A lone metal bench sat under the stars; Peter drifted towards it. He hadn’t been sitting there long when he sensed footsteps behind him, and turned to see Tony in the doorway.

“Just checking in,” the older man said. “Your aunt woke up and you weren’t there, she thought maybe you were with me in the workshop…”

Peter shuffled his feet. “Sorry. I sneaked away and didn’t want to disturb her.”

“Okay.” Tony lingered awkwardly. “It’s fine. Um. I’ll go. Do you want me to call May, or…”

Peter paused. He found he didn’t really want to call May, not right now. But he didn’t want to be alone, either.

“You always up this late?” Peter found himself asking instead.

“I guess so.” Tony shrugged. “Old habit.”

“Me too,” Peter replied. As he said it, he wondered if it was true about himself. Really, he was just saying what he thought might get Tony to stay.

Tony looked at him for a moment, tilting his head. Then, as if he’d read his mind, Tony sat down on the bench beside Peter. And for the next few hours, Tony stayed.

They sat quietly for a while, lost in their own thoughts, but it was a familiar kind of silence. One that made Peter feel safe. He plucked up the courage to speak several minutes later. “Mr. Stark?” Peter said. He didn’t know why the more formal address somehow felt more comfortable than ‘Tony,’ which was what Peter had been calling him lately. For some reason it just did. Tony turned his head, but if he noticed the change, he didn’t comment on it. “Mr. Stark,” Peter continued, “what happened back at the Tower? Really?”

Tony furrowed his brows. “We, uh, we fought, Pete. And then Hydra tripped the self-destruct on the device around your head, and…”

“Yeah, and you got it off, and then I passed out.” Peter fiddled with the zipper on his hoodie. “You told me. But how did you get it off, exactly?”

“Oh.” Tony leaned back against the bench. “I missed that part, huh.”

“Oh, I thought of another—why, why was that device shaped like a spider?”

Peter could tell Tony weighed his words carefully before answering. “It came from a suit. A specific, uh. Spider-Man’s suit.”

“Spider-Man?”

“Yeah.”

“So the thing you used to get it off…”

Tony nodded. “That was Spider-Man’s slightly older suit. Same signature, so the override worked.”

“He seems to have a lot of suits.”

“Yeah,” Tony chuckled. “Yeah, real tinkerer, that one.”

“It spread from my chest, felt like ants crawling on me.”

“That would be the nano-particles. I helped with that part, but the rest of it, all his handiwork. He’s very capable that way. Skilled guy.”

“Yeah.” Peter looked down. “Yeah, I bet. No wonder Hydra wanted him.”

Tony stiffened beside Peter. After a moment Peter felt a hand on his shoulder. “We were gonna tell you, Pete. Eventually. But doctors said to go slow on the whole memory thing and… I, I wasn’t quite sure how to break that gently, to be honest.”

Peter shrugged. “It’s okay. Not that hard to figure out. My senses, plus the memories that name brought up…” He took a breath. “And, I mean, the Avengers. You guys are, you’re Earth’s mightiest heroes or whatever. Why… why else would you all be so hell-bent on saving me?”

“What do you—because you’re one of us,” Tony said firmly. “Not because of what you can do.”

Peter didn’t answer. After several weeks fighting for a team that only seemed to care about what Peter could do, he didn’t seem to know how to answer.

“Is—is this what this is about? What keeps you up at night?” Tony pushed. “You’re wondering why you were worthy?”

Peter fiddled with his zipper, with the hem of his hoodie, anything to keep his fingers moving. “I hacked into your databases,” Peter said in a small voice.

“We dealt with that damage, Peter.”

“I wrecked your garage, your suit—”

“Things can be replaced.”

“And I beat you up pretty good.”

“Oh, yeah.” Tony laughed. “Yeah, okay, I’ll give you that one.”

The laugh disarmed Peter. He turned to meet Tony’s eyes, but he found no unkindness or mockery there—only sincerity behind the outer humor. Peter couldn’t help but smile too.

“Hey, I should thank you. I don’t get much exercise in retirement,” Tony quipped.

“Semi-retirement,” Peter blurted. That made both him and Tony stop. “You’re… only semi-retired,” Peter continued uncertainly. “You, um. You’re my…” But Peter's burst of memory failed; it only ever reached so far.

“Mentor,” Tony supplied when Peter trailed off. “Occasional tech support. Substitute Guy in the Chair…”

“Old man?” Peter joked.

Tony snorted. “Disaster child. Never change.” Then Tony’s eyes softened, and he lowered his voice. “You are a part of this team, Peter. Everything we put on the line was worth it. Everything. Because it got you home.”

Peter breathed deeply, and let it out in a long sigh. Slowly, he leaned against Tony’s side, and Tony put an arm around his shoulders. Peter found he fit in Tony’s arms like a puzzle piece. Like he belonged there. Like he’d always belonged there.

“I wish I could remember more,” Peter admitted quietly, when he was good and settled in Tony’s embrace. “I wish I could remember faster. Or I wish… I’d never forgotten in the first place.”

Tony hugged him a little tighter. “We’ll be here to remind you.”

-----

They reminded him. And slowly, Peter recovered. Slowly, Peter remembered.

-----

They held a second birthday party at May’s apartment a few days later. Complete with streamers, red and blue balloons, and—

“Chocolate cake. Always chocolate cake, and you always bake it yourself,” Peter remembered.

May smiled as she kissed Peter’s temple, and handed him a slice.

-----

Peter eased slowly back into training, too.

“You wanna deflect the knife like this, and remember to—”

Peter broke Bucky off when he executed the move perfectly, ending with him pinning his sparring partner to the ground. Sam laughed and flashed a thumbs-up from the sidelines.

“I remember,” Peter realized, grinning.

-----

“Every other weekend? I used to hang out with the Tony Stark every other weekend?”

“Until stupid college got in the way,” Tony groused playfully. He handed Peter a wrench for the reinforced garage door they were installing.

“Still can’t believe I go to MIT,” Peter said as he tightened the screws.

“Yeah. When you’re ready to go back, treat Ned and Michelle to a big movie night or something, whatever you kids do for fun. They can't wait to see you again.” Tony looked up from his toolbox. “Do you remember…?” he said tentatively.

Peter nodded. He did remember, bits and pieces—laughter with a childhood friend, stolen moments with a girl he admired. All on their own, Peter’s cheeks began to blush.

Tony grinned. “Yeah. Thought you did.”

-----

There were some things, though, that were Peter’s very own. And that he had to rediscover on his own.

“How’s it feel?” Tony asked, as Peter donned the Spider-Man suit for the first time in months.

Peter tested it out: stretched his arms, fiddled with the web shooters, said hi to Karen. “It—it’s perfect, Mr. Stark,” he said when he was finished. “Thank you.”

Tony slung an arm around Peter’s shoulders and walked with him across the Tower rooftop. “Alright. This one you’ll have to figure back out on your own. But you did it before, and you’ll do it again.” Tony smiled. “Spider-Man.”

Peter perched on the edge of the roof, feeling the wind on his suit, the rush of his senses. The feeling of being back where he belonged.

Peter Parker was Spider-Man. This was his to remember. This was his to reclaim.

“Stay safe,” he heard Tony whisper, as the older man backed off from the edge.

Peter turned to him. “Tony?”

Tony looked up at him, and Peter paused to relish that short moment. For all the time they’d spent together lately, this was different. This was special. This was them, back in their old mentor-mentee groove. And it felt good.

“I, I just wanted to say—” Peter started, and he grinned. “I still think ‘official Avenger-Guardian of NYC’ should be a thing. And it definitely ranks higher than Iron Man.”

Tony’s dropped jaw, and his mock-offended face, was the last thing Peter saw as he shot a web and swung down over his city.

Spider-Man had returned.

#the friendly neighborhood exchange #friendly neighborhood exchange #irondad #peter parker #tony stark #fanfic #jelly's

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