(A/N: I’m back from the dead! I apologize for my hiatus, but now I should be able to get back to updating this blog more frequently.)
“What do you mean you can’t go there? He has Y/N! Nothing matters except getting her back. Come on, we’re wasting time!” Damian shouted. Bruce shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Damian, I really am. I know how much Y/N means to you, but you have to wait for your brother. I cannot go there, which is the reason Joker took her to that location,” he said calmly. Damian wanted to scream.
“Why? What the hell is so special about the Monarch Theater? She could be dying and you’re making me wait? I’ll just go alone!” he raged. Bruce put out a hand to catch him, but Damian evaded his father’s grasp. He stormed out of the cave, somehow managing to avoid Bruce on his way out.
“Damian, stop.” The older man’s orders fell upon deaf ears.
Robin couldn’t even recall most of the fight. His recollection was blurred by the rage coursing through his veins. The clown himself hadn’t even been there, a fact that made Damian even angrier. I would have made him suffer for this… the boy thought to himself. He was pulled from his musing by Dick.
“What the hell were you thinking? Robin, you would have died if I didn’t come in when I did,” he scolded. Damian ignored him.
“Belittle me when she’s safe,” he said, continuing to search for Y/N. Dick sighed but gave in. It wasn’t long before they found the girl. As Damian took in her appearance, he let out a sharp breath. She was barely conscious, decorated with bruises and dried blood. A rag gagged her mouth, and her leg was bent grotesquely out of shape. A bloody crowbar lay near her.
“Y/N!” Damian called to her. “Dick, get help, she’s here!” Y/N raised her head slightly, clearly exhausted by the effort. Damian ran to her, untying her bindings. When he pulled the gag out of her mouth, she coughed.
“Robin…” she whispered in a croaky voice. Tears mingled with the blood on her face. Damian took the mask off, letting it slip to the floor.
“It’s me, Y/N. Damian. I’m here,” he said softly, gingerly taking her into his arms. It was then he realized how bad her condition was. Several of her ribs were broken and her heartbeat was incredibly faint. His heart, however, slammed harder against his chest with each wheezing breath that escaped Y/N’s lungs.
“I knew you would come for me…” she said, wincing when Damian strengthened his hold on her. There were so many things Damian wanted to tell her he was sorry for. Letting the Joker get her, not realizing what had happened sooner, taking so long in coming for her… words started spilling from his mouth, but his apology was interrupted by her coughs.
“You’ll be okay, Y/N. The ambulance is coming, you’ll be okay,” he said shakily. She shook her head slightly.
“Everything hurts so badly,” Y/N murmured.
“I know, I know, but everything will heal… Just stay awake, keep going…” he tried his best to comfort her. More tears fell from Y/N’s eyes.
“I don’t… Damian, I don’t know how much longer I can… I think I’m dying, Damian,” she whimpered. He shook his head, almost able to hear his heart shattering.
“Don’t say that. Don’t. Y/N, I love you more than anything in this world… which is why you have to stay here. Stay with me,” he begged, voice cracking as he spoke. Hot tears ran down his face. A broken smile graced Y/N’s lips. Sirens could be heard outside.
“Just hold on for a little while longer,” he said desperately.
“Your mask,” she responded weakly. Damian nodded, quickly fastening it over his eyes just before several EMTs flooded into the room and lifted Y/N from his arms. A haze descended over Damian. Dick appeared at his side, guiding him out of the building.
“It’s probably not the best idea going to the hospital in costume, but I’ll drive you as soon as you change…” Everything Damian heard sounded like it was echoing through water.
“You can’t die,” he whispered, watching the ambulance drive away. “Please don’t die.”
“I need a shower,” Daisy groans out, rubbing her hands down
her face. She flops back on the seedy motel bed, eyes pointed toward the white,
popcorn ceiling in a withering stare. “Why do I even need a shower? We’re in
the fucking Matrix, none of this is real. Yet still, I smell. It’s completely
Jemma sits at the foot of the bed, inspecting the map they’ve
drawn on the wall (it’s not like it’ll matter, once they shut the framework
down. What’s a little destruction of private property in the grade scheme of
things?). Each of the team’s locations are marked with pushpins, along with
lists of all the information they’ve managed to gather on them. It’s not enough,
Jemma knows. They need more.
“You do smell a little.”
Jemma turns back to her, blinking innocently. “What? I said ‘a
“Whatever.” Daisy pushes off the bed, walks backwards toward
the bathroom. She raises an eyebrow at Fitz, who’s sitting on the other bed. “You
two gonna be okay without adult supervision for a little while?”
Jemma freezes. She and Fitz, this Fitz—Leo, he’s called
here, though she refuses to call him that, even in her head—haven’t been alone
together since they finally managed to convince him to come along. She knows
what Daisy’s implying, and Jemma wishes she wouldn’t. She’s more than a little
uncomfortable with the idea. This isn’t Fitz. Her Fitz. That’s what she tells
herself is the problem, anyway.
“Yeah- uh- yeah, we’ll be fine,” Fitz says when she doesn’t
speak, when it’s gotten just a little uncomfortable.
Daisy eyes them both, then holds up her hands, retreating to
Jemma doesn’t turn around to look at him. She knows what she’ll
see. He’ll be sitting there, looking so much like Fitz but so not, so, so out
of place in his posh suit and scarf. Looking like a person who would never set
foot in a motel of all places, which he’d voiced when they’d arrived. He’s
close, but he’s not Fitz. So she doesn’t look.
Plus, he might be looking back at her. She doesn’t know
exactly why, but that’s the last thing she wants.
So she just focuses on the work in front of her. Not that
she’ll figure out anything new just by staring at the same slips of paper they
have been for the last two days, but still. The effort matters.
He waits until the water is running in the shower before he
speaks. His presence alone is stifling, but his voice is something even more
“Why do you want me back?” he asks, and of all things it’s
not what she expected. It confuses her enough that she looks back at him. He’s
watching her carefully, thoughtfully, not really looking at her eyes but lower
on her face, and it’s so Fitz-like that she wants to cry.
“I- He- obviously
wasn’t very good to you. Why do you even want him back?”
Her eyebrows draw together, mouth popping open in confusion.
“Where are you getting that? Fitz is never anything but good to me.”