Chapter Text
Lady Noir landed on the rooftop behind Batman, slowly walking up to him.
He was staring at a gargoyle, Robin’s favorite one. A small piece of Robin’s cape held tightly in his fist.
“Batman.” Lady Noir said, announcing her presence.
Batman didn’t turn to look at her.
“I’m guessing you’ve heard the news?” He asked, voice rough and ragged.
Lady Noir took another step, hesitantly raising her hand to touch him.
“Yes.” She whispered, placing her hand on his shoulder.
Batman shuddered under her touch, collapsing in on himself before her very eyes.
“He was supposed to be in a play next week. He had been so excited for it.” Batman choked out, his hands shaking as he stared down at the dirty piece of cloth.
Lady Noir wrapped her arms around his middle, hugging him from behind tightly. Trying to hold him together lest he fall apart right then and there.
“I had to bury my son. My boy.” Batman said, his voice wavering.
“I know. I know.” Lady Noir whispered, trying to pretend like she wasn’t crying alongside him.
Someone had to be strong here, and there was no way she could expect it to be Batman.
Batman whirled around, wrapping Lady Noir in a hug, his face buried in her shoulder.
They stayed like that for a long, long time.
Batman, a being more myth and legend than man. Breaking, shattering, in the arms of his best friends. Not caring for anyone who may see.
In Gotham, Batman was a monster to the monsters who roamed the streets. A beacon of hope to those who were without it. A protector to those who needed protecting. He was the Batman.
It was far too often that people forgot the second part of his name.
‘Man’.
That’s all he was.
A man.
A man who had just lost his son.
A man who had lost any faith he had in the city he protected. Who had lost his will to keep fighting for it.
Who had lost his will to keep fighting for himself.
Lady noir took a deep breath, summoning steel to her spine as she pulled Batman away from herself.
“Bruce…” She whispered.
She wasn’t speaking to The Batman anymore; she was speaking to the man underneath. The mourning father, the tired man. She needed him to understand that.
“If there were a chance, to make this like nothing had ever happened. To bring Jason back, safe from harm. Would you take it?” She asked.
Bruce looked at her confused.
“Marinette, what are you-?”
“Would you take the chance, Bruce?” Marinette asked, cutting him off.
Ever so slowly, he nodded.
That was all she needed.
Marinette pulled him back into a hug, this time, for her own benefit.
He would have his son back.
And she would never cross his mind again.
It was hours later, long after they had gone their separate ways, that Marinette began her spell.
She sat on the highest rooftop in Gotham, watching as the sunlight breached through the cracks in the smog of the city, lighting everything in a misty glow.
It was beautiful.
“Are you sure about this? You know-”
“I’m sure.” Marinette said, cutting off the well-meaning god’s concern.
A sigh.
“As you wish child. I’m afraid that this will hurt, quite considerably.” They warned, moving a step closer.
Marinette was surrounded by gods, trying to enjoy her last sunrise as a human.
This spell had never been done before, it was complex and near impossible to do properly.
But she had been assured that it could be done.
And that was all she needed.
Three gods surrounded her, somber as they approached her, magic dancing in their eyes.
“Scream if you need to.” One of them said.
And scream she did.
Marinette knew it would be painful. Knew that this probably wasn’t her best idea but that it was necessary regardless.
None of this helped her move past the pain.
The god of destruction was so careful, so gentle with her as he separated every atom of her being.
She almost wished it was violent, just so it would fit with how painful it was.
The goddess of creation was just as gentle as she remade her. Molding the once human girl into something other.
The god of time at least tried to work fast, turning back time as far as it could safely move. Erasing Marinette’s planned future and rewriting her past to match.
And then it was done.
She was exhausted and in so much pain that she didn’t want to try to move.
But she had to.
Just as the god’s had promised, Marinette had been remade. Turned into something that could save the little bird.
And save the little bird she did.
The countdown had already started by the time she found him.
He was on the ground, desperately trying to crawl away as the seconds ticked down.
Marinette reached out, wrapping herself around him as the timer reached zero, shielding him from the explosion and following rubble.
It didn’t hurt her.
Or maybe the process it took to get here had hurt so bad her perception of pain had been altered as well.
None of that mattered though.
She had done it.
She’d saved the little bird.
Soon, her Batman would be along.
He would find the rubble of the explosion, desperately dig through it to find his son.
He would hope and pray for him to be alright, even though he knew it to be impossible.
And he would find him.
Alive.
A blessing, a miracle. Given specifically to him.
And he would never know why.
He would never remember her, the being that was once a girl.
They would chalk it up to chance, the way the rubble fell just so that it surrounded the boy and saved him from the impact.
They would never consider that earth itself rose up to surround the boy. That the very ground moved and warped itself to form a shield.
They would never know what, never remember who, had been sacrificed to move that bit of earth.
And that had been the price Marinette had agreed to pay.
She would save the little bird.
She would be forgotten in return.
And she just had to accept it, because that was the deal she had struck.