#lance alvers

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Utterly fucked. Those were the words of the day. 

Completely and utterly fucked.

There were plenty of moments throughout Barry Allen’s life where he considered himself so deep into trouble that he couldn’t come up with any other word that could describe his situation than the word ‘fucked’. There were plenty of words that would have sounded more refined and descriptive, depending on the level of the problem he was facing.  But the word ‘fucked’ simply gave a certain feeling when used to summarize just how deep into shit he was in. 

And there was no better situation than the one Barry was currently in to use this word.

It was quite hilarious, in a very twisted way. Out of all the things he had gone through in his life, keeping to himself some crucial information from the Big Bat willingly was the one that got him on the edge of a nervous breakdown in the middle of an emergency meeting with the rest of the Justice League.

And Barry’s day was going so fucking well just an hour ago. 

It was meant to be a calm, simple morning. He was supposed to wait at the new apartment complex in New Brighton and help tidy up the place with Hal’s help because, and he quotes: ‘You cannot be trusted with choosing furniture, Uncle. Aunt Iris only keeps that couch because the dog can sit on it.’ 

Despite his offense, Barry still went out of his way to help Wally. And also because he wasn’t doing this only for Wally. 

Sure, his nephew had been the one to ask him to do him the favor of cleaning and furnishing the apartment. But it was Pietro who had asked Barry to help welcome and adjust his little sister to Central City. And who was Barry to deny him? Besides, Lorna was pretty great, and he didn’t mind helping her out with moving to a new city.

It totally didn’t have to do with the tiny fact that Wally was doing everything within his reach to impress the girl.

“Any calls or alarms from him yet?” Diana questioned warily, gaze centered on the main computer screen of the meeting room. A few of the present members shook their heads in response, the air tensing tightly with each second.

Barry could feel Hal’s leg bouncing right beside him. His knee was bumping against Barry’s every couple of seconds, as well as his glare, right on the left side of his face. 

On any other occasion, Hal would be oozing with smugness. It wasn’t every day that the green lantern had been the one saying, ‘Hey, so this is actually a crazy plan, and it will blow up in our faces. So how about we don’t do that, hm?’ and end up being right.

On this occasion, it did not feel like a win for Hal.

Now, before things get misunderstood, Hal was more than alright with sticking it to the Big B. If it were for him, he would take every single chance to get on Bruce’s nerves just so he could get any type of reaction from the man, even if it got him extra boring stakeouts during missions. Or no missions at all.

He just wanted to see broody old Bruce fumble every once in a while, alright? What Hal did not want was collateral damage of the size of Texas to come and affect everyone within a 1000-mile radius because they decided to go against one of Batman’s most sacred rules.

“Any member of the League needs my authorization to access Gotham.” Bruce declared. “It’s my territory, and I need to know what happens inside of it. This includes who sets foot in my city.”

Many members took that rule seriously, while others paid attention to it loosely since they had little interest in setting foot into Gotham. There were certain exceptions, of course, like the members of the Young Justice or the Titans. All because B’s little army always reported to him if they were dropping by for a mission or hangouts. Other than that, most people stayed out of Gotham, and Hal was an active member of that demographic.

But of course, life wasn’t as simple as Hal wanted it to be. He should have thought about that before getting dragged into the hero life.

Growing tired of the silence and the constant fidgeting of Barry across the table, Superboy, who had been sitting on Clark’s right, stood up and slammed his hands over the table, cracking the surface with the impact. “This is bullshit!” 

The guy had been fuming when he was dragged into the room by an apprehensive Superman. Hissing harsh whispers at Clark, trying to shove off the grip the man had on his jacket, until he responded with a low tone for Kon’s ears only. Whatever he had said got him a glare and a chair being dragged loudly out of its spot, the creaking making people wince as the young hero sat down with his arms crossed.

It had been clear by then that Kon was not in a good mood. And the dragged-out waiting for updates had done nothing but worsen it.

“Conner,” Clark interjected with a mindful tone, as he raised from his chair. His hand extended to grasp Kon’s shoulder. “That is not how-”

Kon jerked his arm away from Clark’s reach, floating above his knocked-down chair. His posture was strung up, tension crawling all up through his back, and his hands curling into fists by his sides. Lines of frustration marked his face as his chest heaved with his short breaths.

“Not how what?” He retorted, sunglasses glinting above his head as he looked at Clark and at the rest of the members at the table. “Not how things are done? How are we supposed to do this then? Wait on our asses until Batman gives us a fucking thumbs up just so we can go and help, huh?” He raised his gaze towards Diana at the head of the table. “Or are we gonna do our jobs like we’re supposed to do?”

It was by pure self-centered will that Barry didn’t jump out of his seat when Hal pinched his thigh underneath the table as he inclined his torso closer to him, trying to pass off as if he had let a pen drop to the floor or something. The brunette mumbled under his breath, hoping that everyone’s attention was on the angry teenager instead of them.

“Please tell me that you got a hold of Walls,” He said, pulling his chair closer to Barry as Kon’s tone became more aggressive. “Or I will make sure to hand him over to Diana, personally. Shit is getting ugly-”

“-and respect is part of our teamwork, Superboy. If Batman hasn’t reached out-” 

“Then that means he’s having trouble and we are just wasting time here-”

Barry hit Hal’s arm with his elbow, giving him a quick glare before snapping back at the argument escalating, as Oliver and Clark tried to keep Kon calm. “I called him 70 times. He is not answering. Something must have happened back there; give him time.”

“We don’t have time,” Hal hissed sharply, gaining a stare from across the table despite the screaming match in the background. “Batman and his team have been radio silent for hours now, and Wally is the only way of knowing what the hell is going on-”

A pair of heavy hands settled on the duo’s shoulders, putting a quick stop to their conversation. It didn’t take too long for them to notice that the room had gone silent as well.

It was hard not to when all the attention was on them.

Squeezing their shoulders with a gentle but firm grip, the Green Arrow clicked his tongue and inclined his torso so he could be between the skittish-looking heroes with a pretending smile. 

“Seems like you two have something to share with the rest of the class, right?” Oliver urged, patting their shoulders roughly.  

Hal coughed into his fist while Barry let out a nervous laugh that dimmed down with the serious glares coming from Clark and Diana. The heavy sigh that Martian Manhunter let out didn’t help ease the crawling tension in the slightest.

Kon broke the tension with a snort. “There goes your so-called respect.”

Again, completely and utterly fucked.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

Gotham City, Park Row

“I’m in so much fucking trouble-”

“Shh, if you keep whining, then we will be in more trouble.”

“I’m being serious, Lorna! You don’t know how the Bat gets with other people messing on his turf!”

“Last time I checked, the sewers were not his ‘turf’. Also, what’s up with that?”

“I don’t know! He’s just… territorial, I guess?”

“...Is he a fucking dog?”“Well, when you put it like that-”

“Whatever, I don’t care. If it means so much to you to be on his good side, fine by me. But I will be going down there. With you or by myself. Pick a choice.”

“...You know I can’t, in a good conscience, let you do that on your own.”

“That’s what I thought! Now, shut up and follow my lead. And let me do all the talking… they take a while to warm up to strangers.”

“That doesn’t soothe my nerves at all.”

“Good, it wasn’t supposed to!”

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

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Being of flesh and bone once again was a weird experience for Wayne.

There was a certain heaviness that she wasn’t sure she missed; it was hard to explain. Maybe it had to do with getting used to floating around way too quickly. It had felt like second nature to her to slip into her new form, and maybe she enjoyed it a bit too much.

She no longer felt weighed down. No more pressures, both in the physical and metaphorical sense.

It could also have to do with the small fact that she didn’t like her body. She had never felt right in that skin, not in a long time. Her mind couldn’t come up with the last time she ever felt satisfied or happy at what stood before her in the mirror. There was always something wrong to point out, either by herself or by someone external.

‘Smile less, you are showing too many teeth.’

‘Fix your posture.’

‘Your hair is too frizzy. Ever heard of a brush before?’

‘Stop looking down.’

‘You’re staring too much.’

Do this. Do that. Stop this. Stop that. Not Enough. Too much. 

Everyone had opinions upon opinions about what she should do. Of what she should act like, and it was suffocating. For years, she had sucked it up and played along. Playing pretend in a rotting house that was destined to crumble eventually, thinking that it could help patch up the broken pieces bit by bit. 

In the end, all she had done was break herself first.

The motion of breathing felt like a shock of cold air intruding through her lungs and stomach, making her gasp and cough as she grasped her throat. Her eyes were watering at the painful sensation against her chest, not so unfamiliar to the pain she felt while fighting for breath in her last moments.

The wheezing, aggravating voice of a woman snapped her back to awareness. 

“By the mother, having a physical body is a total bitch.”

Wayne twisted her neck to look back over her shoulder, mouth curling into a snarl and biting her tongue tightly. They stood in a half painted room of lilac and white, with a window bay that had stained glass forming figures of flowers in soft colors. There was wooden furniture as well. A big chest with an old iron lock, a tall and long drawer attached to a corner with some kind of small mattress and soft blankets on top of it and a rocking chair not too far away from it.

The woman, the ghost lady (who fucking pushed her into the damn pool-), who was now patting her purple robes and brushing away strands of grey hair from her face in front of an intricate body mirror, didn’t look in the least bothered as she caught the girl’s glare through the reflection. Instead, she gave her a pleased grin back.

“Well, well, look at you!” She mocked, giving her a slow once-over as Wayne turned her body towards her. “You truly clean up nicely! All that blood and drenched clothes did not do you any favors.”

Despite wanting to lash out at her, Wayne’s attention drifted towards her own small reflection in the mirror. A tight feeling pushed against her chest as her gaze processed the view in front of her. It was almost instinct to approach the mirror without a second thought.

She was still wearing that damn school uniform, but it looked brand new and fitted perfectly to her frame. No blood or water was staining her clothes and face, her signature wound just gone from her left temple with no signs of ever being there. Everything was dry and clean.

Her physical appearance, however, took a different turn.

It was an usual sight to come face to face with straight black hair and sickly skin. It had been what she had decided on to look like for years. Taking methods and many questionable ways that were borderline unhealthy, just so she could fulfill her own approval of what she thought could get her a sign of affection or satisfaction. Constructing a perfect husk to hide away from gossiping voices and judgmental looks.

‘Are they sure she’s actually his? She doens’t like him!’

‘Look at her skin. There’s no way she’s a Wayne.’

‘Poor Bruce, the mother of that child is probably some common whore that was up and gone, and now he is stuck with her!’

‘Is it possible there’s a mistake? I mean, just look at her-’

And looking right back at her was all she could have ever dared to imagine to ever be. 

Hair curled like ringlets, falling around and framing her face. No longer dark, but a very familiar color that only brought a wave of warm nostalgia to her chest. And a healthy color that made her skin glow, accentuating her features even more. 

“How?” Her tone breathless, as her shaky hand touched her face. Felling the warm flesh underneath her fingertips sink when touching her pulled-up cheeks.

She didn't even realize she was smiling widely at the mirror.

“You tell me, sweetie,” The woman answered with a snort, walking behind her as she gestured around with a swipe of her arm. “This is all in your head, after all.”

Wayne blinked, finally looking away from the mirror to glare at the woman once again. “What? What do you mean?”

“Oh? Don’t you remember?” She answered with an exaggerated tone, putting a hand against her chest as she looked directly at the girl and moved her head from side to side. “Thinking of the past so you could make up whoever you were sobbing about all by yourself a couple of moments back? Does that ring any bells?”

This only confused and unsettled Wayne even more.

“Wait- hold on-” She stuttered, raising her hands in a stopping motion as she took a step back. “That doesn’t make sense! Thinking of the past and- then pushing me in a pool and now this- I mean, what the-”

The woman cackled, clapping her hands with a grin. “You are just precious, seriously!”

Wayne scowled, a heating sensation crawling up her feet. “I’m not fucking laughing! Where are we?! And who the hell are you-”

The spell is cast, how long it lasts

I cannot divine

The rest of her voice got stuck in her throat as those soft words reached her ears. Shivers breaking through her skin, and her eyes widening as her neck turned towards the source of the voice that had captured her attention.

The road is there

And so I dare

To risk this heart of mine

It came from the other side of the door. It was slightly opened, just about three inches, the gentle notes of a piano finding themselves inside the old room Wayne and the woman were in. 

Wayne couldn’t help taking a few small steps forward, taking a sharp breath as the voice became clearer.

Down, down, down the road

Down the Witches' Road

Down, down, down the road

Down the Witches' Road

A hard grip on her shoulder stopped her in her tracks, head wiping back towards the now oddly serious-looking woman. Her long nails were scraping against the coat of her uniform, but Wayne didn’t pay any mind to it as the singing started to sound just behind the door.

Follow me, my friend

To glory at the end

“That’s-” Wayne breathed, voice cracking softly. “That voice- I know that voice.”

“So I figured.” The woman noted, stepping forward to stand between the door and Wayne. Her arms crossed over her chest, and her lips were pursed as she stared at the girl. “And before you cross that door, we are going through some rules.”

The mere mention of the word rules looked rather painful for the woman to say, but Wayne didn’t care at that moment. In complete honesty, she would prefer that the woman choke on her own breath at that very moment.

Wayne rolled her eyes, arms crossing over her chest. “And why would I listen to you? I don’t even know you, and as far as I know, you caused this!”

She had hoped that would have gotten the woman to snap back at her. But instead, it gained her a grin and something Wayne would call a ‘manical enlightenment’ glint in her eyes.

‘Why are adults so weird, seriously?’

“Knew you had that Dent spark in you!” She cheered. “That means you’re not completely hopeless!”

‘¿De qué carajos está tipa esta hablando?’ Her thoughts wailed.

The woman clapped her hands once. “Right, introductions! Well, you may know me as Agatha. Agatha Harkness, but that’s a bit of a mouthful, don’t you think? Agatha is just fine.”

Her hand quickly came up and squished Wayne’s cheeks, denting the skin with her long cold fingers. Wayne reared back, but Agatha pressed her grip until she stopped, leaving the girl to only glare openly at her.

“With that out of the way,” She crooned. “I will be as straight as I can be with this so you don’t have to make too many mindless questions. Sounds alright for you, Dent?”

Wayne’s jaw clenched underneath Agatha’s hand, hissing back at her with a frown. It was the second time this woman had mentioned it. “How do you know that name?”

Agatha snorted, releasing her face while waving her hand off in the air and finally leaving some space in between them. Wayne didn’t hesitate to create more space by stepping back a couple of more steps.

“I know plenty about you, (Y/N) Dent.” Agatha taunted with a growing smirk. “And I know exactly what you need to get what you want.”

The girl couldn’t help the disbeliving laugh that escaped from her, baffeled by the words of the woman. “And what exactly do I need, if you’re such an expert?”

With a wave of her index finger, the door creaked open, letting the singing echo in the room as Agatha stood by it’s frame with a raised eyebrom. She leaned against the door, arms crossed while twirling a strand of her hair.

“Just a reminder,” Agatha uttered. “Can’t hurt to look at the past. Not when it could help you answer your questions, right?”

Wayne knew that was a dirty tactic. Fuck, it was too dirty. This asshole was treating her like some starving dog while waving a treat right in her face. It was more than obvious that this was just a way to get her to agree to whatever other scheme this woman (Agatha. Why does this name sound familiar-) had in her mind. And it would be a very bad idea to walk right into it, but-

Tame your fears

A door appears

To love that never dies

…But hearing that voice. Hearing her voice. Hearing it so so close that Wayne was sure that the moment she stepped out that door, she would see her-

Maybe she was weak. Maybe she was just an affection-starved kid that choose to ignore the bad signs. Or maybe she knew exactly what she was doing.

Any other way, she had made her choice long before Agatha opened her mouth.

With straight shoulders and a fixated stare on Agatha, Wayne took a deep breath and spoke. “What are your rules?”

Agatha didn’t grin or laugh this time. She just gazed at the girl for a few long moments and nodded slowly as her arms uncrossed. Then, she glanced at the door and returned her attention to Wayne.

“Whatever you see in there,” She explained with a small drag in her tone. “They will not hear you or see you. These are just memories, and there’s no way of changing them.”

Wayne nodded slowly, brows creasing as more questions began to rise. “So, this is truly all in my head? But, how?”

“Not exactly,” Agatha remarked with a sigh. “I was looking up to someone of your lineage to notice something as simple as a Repete Memoria, but I guess that spending so much time with the Waynes has tampered with your innate talent.”

There were so many words in that sentence that stood out to her, like bones protruding from a ransacked grave. It had been dug, and the casket had remained open for a while now, but she hadn’t dared to look down and see what lay inside.

Now, it was as if she had been grabbed by the hair and pulled to look down at it.

‘The Wayne name is a cursed name.’

‘Your ma didn’t want you in that house. Not with him. She knew this would happen.’

The Wayne name may be cursed, but the Dent name was somehow something worse.

“What exactly do you-” She was cut off with a hushing noise and a finger pointed at her.

“Not getting off track, kid,” Agatha chided, tutting at her in condensation. “You’ll get your answers as we move along. Now, focus on what I say.”

‘Maldita vieja-’ She cursed to her insides.

“Since it’s obvious that you are not gonna have some kind of meltdown from watching your memories like many people I have known in the past,” Agatha’s eyes sparkled with unrestrained amusement as she boasted those words. “I think that it’s more than clear that you can handle some rough handling, hm?”

Wayne scruched her nose at the phrasing. “And if I don’t?”

Agatha shrugged. “Then I guess your mother’s sacrifice was all in vain. The same with all your Uncle’s efforts.”

Fuck, this bitch really was getting on her nerves-

“And, of course,” She continued, lips curling. “We can’t forget your dear friend’s safety! Gotta say, Maximoffs do have a knack for getting into trouble, don’t they?”

A pulsing sensation went down from her wrist through her palm and reached her fingertips. Knuckles twitching as the fingers contracted inwards, curling into fits at her sides. Wayne could feel her veins sticking out from her wrists, nails ripping through the skin of her palms as her mouth twisted into a snarl.

Agatha glanced down, eyes widening at the sight with intrigue and eagerness. As if pleased or excited by what she was looking at.

Because while the girl was just trying to hold herself together from jumping at her, only Agatha could see the manifestation of faint sparks around Wayne’s fists.

Good. That will make this way easier.

With an exaggerated flair, Agatha stepped away from her spot and did a grand waving motion with her arm right in front of the open door. Her lips were pursed, eyes glinting with unstrained amusement.

“Lead the way, Dent.”

The girl didn’t waste a single second crossing the door.

————————》✧《—————————

Soft rays of morning sunlight went through the glass of the windows, giving the living room a peaceful air. 

There were still dewdrops clinging to the leaves of the potted plants hanging from the window casing, shining when the light hit just right. Most of the pots were painted with oddly decorated figures or made of porcelain. The insides of the room were also decorated similarly. A soft yellow wallpaper, with many pictures in distinctive frames of all colors hanging from them. 

The photographs went from black and white to candid pictures, all of different faces and people throughout the years. Some somber and formal, others with frozen laughs and happiness all over them.

The furniture was old, the two green sofas and the brown loveseat were covered by a transparent plastic casing. Mostly to keep dust and dirt from staining them.

And right by the corner of the room, just by the chimney, sat a woman playing the grand brown piano. 

She looked tired. Hair frizzy, and with dark eye bags. Wearing a dark blue robe over her light green pajamas, a small lump was wrapped over her chest. The lump would twitch and move every couple of seconds, soft coos and sighs coming from it as the woman rocked it gently while playing the piano softly.

“If I can't reach you,” She sang in a lower note, dragging the words instead of following the right pace. “Let my song teach you, all you need to keep our love alive.”

A small hand escaped from the lilac cloth on the woman’s chest, grabbed a lock of hair within its reach, and tried to pull it. But the woman just huffed a laugh, a hand leaving the keys of the piano, and gently pried the hair out of the baby’s grasp. She stopped playing altogether, guiding her other hand to the baby’s covered back and kissing the tiny hand she had in her hold.

She stood up carefully, patting the baby when they protested at the sudden movement. “If I can't hold you, remember what I told you,” She whispered against the crown of the baby’s head. “It's the only way we survive, we survive.”

Wayne couldn’t help smiling with watery eyes at the sight before her. She could feel her chest bursting and the need to break into a run towards them. It really didn’t help that she was standing right inside the walls of her old home, surrounded by the clear memories of joy and softness once again.

It also didn’t help that a sane Bianca Dent stood just six feet apart from where she was standing.

“Hm, I always found it quite odd that people preferred that version of the ballad.” Agatha interrupted with a bitter tone, making the girl sigh profoundly as the woman stood just a few centimeters from her. “The old one is obviously superior. The lyricism is something that should be-”

“It’s a protection spell,” Wayne added, glancing at Agatha. “My mom told me about it. It was made by Lorna Wu to protect her daughter from their family’s curse.”

Agatha gasped with mirth. “My, my! And how does your mother know that? It sounds like a bit of personal information, if you understand what I’m saying!”

Wayne’s jaw tightened, inhaling a deep breath before speaking. “She just knew stuff. Sometimes it was just a small thing, like if the neighbors were getting steak or takeout for dinner. Or if the dog from down the street was going to have eight puppies, things like that.”

“And the other times?” She pried with a knowing look at her.

The girl looked back at the two figures before her, shoulders sinking and eyes dimming.

“The other times were not so simple.”

A hard knock at the door broke the silence of the room, making the baby whine and Bianca groan with a roll of her eyes. She bounced her baby gently, hushing her as she walked towards the entrance hall, grumbling to herself as the loud knocking was repeated once again.

“I swear,” She hissed. “If he keeps this up, I will make him change diapers until you can do your potty training.”

The baby grugled, as if answering back to her. Which seemingly pleased Bianca, as she kissed her baby’s head once again before heading towards the door.

And just as Wayne turned to follow them, a white door appeared in front of her. As it opened, she looked back at Agatha, but the woman simply pushed her by the shoulder, making her step through the door.

————————》✧《—————————

An old Ana Gabriel song sounded on a beat-up radio as Bianca worked around the kitchen. There was a huge pot on the stove, steaming hot and smelling so strongly that it surely reached outside the house. It could make your stomach grumble in hunger just by the smell of it.

Sitting at a table situated just in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by ingredients and plates, was a tall and broad-shouldered man with a half-disfigured face. He wore a wife-beater and loose pants, cutting up onions while humming along with the song playing in the background.

“If Ma knew you were cutting up onions over her favorite mantel,” Bianca chastised, glaring at her brother over her shoulder as she stirred the pot with a metal spoon. “She would use it to strangle you.”

Harvey scoffed, picking up another onion without looking at Bianca. “Not much she can do from beyond the grave. Except pull my legs while I'm sleeping.”

His sister picked up the cloth that was lying over her shoulder and rolled it. Then she spun it in the air and whiped at Harvey’s upper back, making a cracking sound when it hit its target. It was immediately followed by a screeching scream and a fuming glare at Biance from Harvey’s part.

“The hell are you doin’? That shit hurts!” He grumbled, touching his back.

Bianca huffed, turning back towards the stove. “Then have some respect!”

“So domestic,” Agatha said, leering at the man with a smug expression. “And I will say, can’t complain about the view.”

Wayne faked gagging at that, face twisting in disgust while holding onto the counter with a groan. “Never do that again-”

“Nena!” Bianca suddenly hollered, voice rumbling all over the house. But Harvey didn’t even flinch at the loud volume, continuing to cut more onions. “Come down! No playing upstairs alone! You know that!”

Tiny footsteps creeked abvoe the ceiling, making their way around the hall upstairs. Harvey couldn’t help but sigh with a grin, shaking his head as he put down the knife on the table and stood up from his chair.

“Cada día suenas más y más a Mamá.” He taunted while scraping the cut-up onions into the pot. “Too stressed, you need to relax a bit.”

“I’ll relax when my kid stops climbing stuff like a little monkey.” She muttered.

Harvey rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself as he washed his hands in the sink. As soon as he was done, he dried them with Bianca’s shirt by pressing them against her back with a laugh as she screamed. This got them into a fight of kicks, with Harvey laughing as Bianca cursed at him with colorful insults in their mother tongue until she threw the metal spoon at him, making him duck and hide in the hall that led to the stairs.

Wayne walked to the hall with Agatha right behind her, chuckling to herself at the scene between her mother and uncle. Besides always bickering and throwing stuff at each other, all she could remember was the fun times they spent as a unit.

“Was it always like this in here?” Agahta asked, looking at the old stairs that were painted with child paint with a raised eyebrow. “Constant yelling and fighting?”

“In the best way,” Wayne said with a fond stare at the younger-looking Harvey, as he messed with his hair while looking up the stairs. “Uncle Harv was around as much as he could. Twice a month, and sometimes he stayed the night if he could.”

Agatha hummed, clicking her tongue. “Hm, busy man?”

“More like a dangerous job,” The girl answered. “Mom never wanted him to bring it up around me. But, they weren’t exactly… quiet when arguing about it.”

Harvey whistled sharply at the stairs, leaning with an arm against the wall. “Nena, put on your shoes! We’re going to the park!”

“Please be careful,” Bianca urged from inside the kitchen. “Don’t go further than-”

“Than the third street!” Two voices, one childish and coming from upstairs, answered her in sync. Harvey peeped back into the kitchen, giving Bianca a deadpan expression. “My men are around, alright? They’re keepin’ watch. We’re fine.”

“I’m coming!” A high-pitched voice said as a pair of shoes was thrown down the stairs. Harvey grumbled as he moved to pick them up, crouching down and chiding his niece.

“C’mon, nena. Your Ma didn’t raise you to be throwin’ things down the-”

The words died on his lips as he lifted his head to look up. Face slacking while staring at his giggling niece as she walked her way down the stairs.

Except that she wasn’t walking. Instead, she was floating down the rail with a laugh as she waved her hands up in the air. It wasn’t until she reached the final two steps of the stairs that Harvey snapped out of it. Mostly because his niece decides it was the perfect time and moment to jump at him with complete blind trust.

She continued to laugh as he caught her, pulling her to his chest with a heavy sigh and making his way to the kitchen. With his hands full of a wriggling little kid, he stared at Bianca with an exasperated glare.

“Your kid’s actin’ weird again.” He stated, ignoring how his niece tried to pull at his nose. “You might wanna check that.”

“She just needs to burn energy.” Was the only explanation she gave to him, focusing on the cooking pot solely. “Take her bike and let her run around for a bit.”

Resigning to his fate, Harvey just shook his head with a sigh and walked off with a kid in his arms and a pair of shoes hanging from his left hand. He poked the little girl’s side, making her laugh harder and try to wiggle free from his grip.

Agatha snorted at that, glancing between the man and the stairs with a curious look. “Looks like you were quite a handful. Levitation at four years old is not for the weak, much less for first-time parents.”

Wayne couldn’t help but flush at that. “It was only around them! I wasn’t allowed to do it outside the house!”

“So you did have powers from an early age,” Agatha mused out loud. “What happened-”

The entrance door creaked open, letting a warm breeze seep through the house and interrupt their conversation. Wayne didn’t wait for Agatha this time, quickly going through the door with a clenched jaw. Agatha just rolled her eyes while muttering about ‘sensitive kids these days’ and followed after her.

————————》✧《—————————

A little girl played in the front yard in the midday sun. 

The wired fence was covered by climbing plants and many other plants, making it look like a garden surrounding the whole front. There were even some plants covering the main iron gate, leaving little to nothing to see from beyond there.

The little girl, with grass-stained overalls and dirt on her hands, was humming to herself the same old ballad her mother would sing to her over and over. She appeared to be quite busy, pulling apart the petals of a blue flower and putting them inside a bowl with salt. 

“Playing with wolfsbane at such an early age?” Agatha laughed, crouching down beside the little girl. “Even a blind crone could see that protective magic is your niche.”

Wayne stared for a while. She took a deep breath and walked towards the fence, fingers touching the leaves with a strange look on her face. “It just felt right.”

Agatha groaned as she stood up, bones creaking and popping as she stretched her arms and neck. “It’s called instinct, kid. Any witch feels a connection to her destined art, especially a blood witch.”

“So you are one then?” Wayne retorted. “You are a witch too?”

“Please tell me you didn’t just realize that?” Agatha stressed.

Wayne shook her head, crossing her arms with a sharp glint in her eyes. “No. Just thought you were a hardcore amateur.”

Agahta licked her upper lip and clenched her teeth. “Oh, you little shit-”

“Hi!” A little voice called all the way from the other side of the front gate, getting the attention of the little girl.

Another child, a boy with black curly hair and brown eyes. By the looks of him, around the same age, dressed in blue shorts and a red shirt. He was waving at her with a wide smile, missing a front tooth and speaking with a small lisp. “Do you wanna play with me?”

The girl frowned, standing up and patting away the mess of torn flowers off her lap. “Ma says I can’t play with strangers. And I haven’t seen you around before!”

The boy looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. “I’m visiting my uncles. They’re just the house next to yours!”

“Still!” She insisted, stomping her foot. “I don’t know you!”

With the two of them pouting at each other, they crossed their arms in sync. Both of them glaring profoundly at one another.

He broke first. “You tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine.”

“Tell me yours first!” She declared while puffing her chest.

“Why?!”

With her nose turned up at him, she answered. “My Ma says I should never give my name first!”

The boy pouted at her. “Your mom is weird!”

“She is not!” She yelled, stomping towards him and standing in front of the gate.

The door of the house opened, and Bianca stepped out with a frown, looking at the two kids with concern. She stepped down a couple of steps and crossed her arms. “(Y/N) Dent! Why are you yelling so much?”

The little girl groaned while the boy laughed out loud. “Ma! You said my name! Now the fairies will get me!”

Bianca rolled her eyes and huffed a laugh. “They will come and take you if you don’t clean up your mess, little miss!”

The boy on the other side of the gate waved at the woman, smiling at her with excitement. Bianca could only frown and return the wave. He then pointed at the pouting girl with a grin. “Hi, can she play with me? Please?”

“I don’t know you!” The girl fussed, glaring at him. But the boy paid no mind to it and put his arm through the bars of the gate, shaking his hand up and down with a smile.

“I’m William Kaplan!” He said. “But I prefer Billy!”

Agatha couldn’t stop the color from draining from her face as Wayne looked at her with an expression mixed between concerned and weirded out at the woman’s behavior.

All Agatha could muster up was a good old-fashioned curse.

“Oh, fucking damn you Rio-”

————————》✧《—————————

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

“Yeah, nah, I’ve seen worse.” John chirped with a shrug.

Kitty, clinging to the scales of the back of Waylon as he walked on four legs, gave him a disgusted look. “What could be worse than this?!”

Further in the back, splashing around the murky water with rubber boots way too big for him as he stomped and avoided getting hit by Waylon’s tail, Lance scoffed and took two big steps to reach Kitty’s side. “We could still be stuck with that psycho, for example.”

They weren’t sure how long they had been walking down there. Could had been minutes or hours, to be honest. All they could trust was Waylon’s sense of direction through the dark tunnels of the sewers and hope that he would lead them far away from the horror show they barely managed to escape.

It had been easy to get rid of the collars once they had reached steady ground. Thankfully, the code had been the right one, and the kids didn’t wait to rip it off once the collars beeped and clicked to shut down the locks.

What wasn’t easy was the damn thing getting tangled in Maximoff’s hair and getting off.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

“Ow ow ow!”

Maximoff winced loudly as she sat on the ground with her legs spread to the front, covering her face as Jubilee and Kitty pulled at the collar. The hinges had managed to get stuck in between some knots of the hair, becoming even more tangled in it when Maximoff panicked and tried to twist it around and rip it off. When it was evident that it wasn’t working, Kitty and Jubilee stepped in to help her out, leading to Lance’s current entertainment.

“It’s not budging!” Kitty sighed, letting go of the collar and letting Jubilee have a closer look at it. 

John crouched down by Jubilee, glancing to the side at Waylon and his pale companion chatting with each other and looking around the harbour. Probably looking for their closest escape route. “That thing’s not goin’ anywhere. Cut it off.”

“Cut?!” Maximoff exclaimed, trying to look back at him, but flinching when it pulled some of her strands at the movement. “What do you mean, cut it?!”

Jubilee’s hand patted her shoulder, trying to calm her down. “It’s too tangled up, and I can’t see with all this rain pouring over us. It’s gotta go.”

Maximoff sighed deeply, trying to get a hold of herself. This is what she gets for wanting a fucking haircut for so long. She was never asking the universe for anything for the rest of her life. Fuck it, and fuck its horrible sense of humor.

“Fine!” She groaned, closing her eyes as the rain became heavier over them. “Just don’t do it too short.”

Jubilee nodded and squeezed her shoulder, looking up at Kitty and Lance as they hovered over them. “Does anyone have a knife or something sharp?”

They all looked around until Lance clapped and pointed at the front with a mischievous grin on his lips. The group turned their heads quickly, and Maximoff felt the blood drain out of her veins when she realized at what Lance was pointing.

Well, more like at whom he was pointing.

“There’s your knife!”

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

After that, there had been a few obstacles on their way to safety, but nothing they couldn’t handle.

Waylon Jones had taken the lead without much argument or protest from them. It had been clear he knew a way out, and they didn’t have any other option but to follow him.

‘Cops gon’ be here any minute. You wanna stay, that’s on you. I ain’t stoppin’ ya. But if you don’t, you follow me an’ you keep up.’

And rather than waiting, they chose to follow him. It wasn’t a hard choice for the majority of the group. Having some kind of trust in the law wasn’t usual for them, not with their life experiences. So waiting for the cops was out of the question.

To Maximoff, it had been a difficult choice.

She just wanted to pinch herself and hope that this had all been some crazy nightmare and wake up with Bobby’s freezing feet against her back, still sleeping in Warren’s big bed back at his apartment. Just a nightmare where there weren’t explosions, kidnappings, vivisections, and dead bodies.

But that was just wistful thinking, and she had to make a quick decision.

Staying could lead to many things. Bad things. Like, having to face cops with their dumbass questions and handle an even more paranoid family (she really hoped that Jasin hadn’t said shit-) in the best case scenario. Or, in the worst case, having to face fucking Batman since, y’know, he was Bruce fucking  Wayne.

It was easy enough to choose to go down the sewers with a bunch of rescued mutants than to wait to face that shit show. The more she could delay, or even avoid, that encounter, the better for her.

The sewers smelled and looked as bad as she had imagined. At the sight of the dark water, as soon as Waylon moved the manhole at the other end of the harbor where he had led them to, the group began to gag and complain loudly over the horrible smell. It didn’t help the fact that all of them lacked shoes, and walking down there barefoot was enough to make them rethink their choices.

Thankfully, the pale man offered an idea that had convinced them to go down the sewers.

‘Waylon can carry you on his back again. It will take a longer time to get to the nest, but Caliban thinks it's safer.’

Even with some growling and grumbling, the crocodile man allowed it. They still had to climb down the stairs and walk around for a bit, but as soon as they got to a bigger tunnel, the kids didn’t wait long to climb on Waylon’s back once again. The only ones who didn’t were Lance, who had found some functional boots and preferred to stomp around to annoy Kitty, and the pale man, Caliban.

Aside from those setbacks, it had been peaceful and without issue. If you could manage to tune out John’s yapping session, of course.

“Just think about it,” He ribbed, twisting his torso to face Kitty and Lance. “We’ve just survived a mad escape that wasn’t even planned. I reckon it’s smooth sailin’ from here on out!”

Jubilee groaned from behind Kitty. “Don’t jinx it, man! Keep it to yourself.”

John shook his head while tutting, giving her a disappointed look. “See that? Negative person right there. I rebuke thy energy!” He made a cross sign with his index fingers. “Begone, foul vibes!”

“Fuck off, Johnny.” She hissed, giving him the middle finger, which only got a cackle and more teasing words from the blonde boy.

Behind them, creating as much distance as they could from the group while remaining in Waylon’s back, was a very still Laura curled against a very quiet Maximoff.

The little girl had said barely a word since they had started their trip down the tunnels. At first, Maximoff thought that she had fallen asleep until Laura would burrow her face against her side, blocking everything around her. It probably had to do with the smell, god knows a kid her age could handle being around such a strong and horrible smell. Maximoff could barely do it, so she didn’t blame her for using her as a shield.

Though there was a tiny voice in her head that felt the need to point out that this little girl had also severed and killed several people just a few hours ago. But there was an even louder voice pointing out that she really didn’t give a single fuck about that.

Sure, it was a horrifying sight. She was sure she almost peed herself at the sight of all those dead bodies and blood splattered all over the floor and her torn clothes. It made her stomach churn and twist in ways she never thought were possible. But, she couldn’t deny the calm that had settled between her ribs with the knowledge that these people would never try to lay a hand on them again. It made her feel a relief that she wasn’t sure she could name.

Then, this only made her feel dirty. 

How could she feel okay with the death of so many people? With the end of a life? It was an awful thought, and it was scary how calm she had been at the sight of such violence and death.

When had she become so used to death? Easy. Look at the body you are in.

Why did she feel like this? It’s blame. Throbbing against your chest and spreading.

She wanted it to stop. No. She wanted quiet. You won’t have it. She wanted her mom. She is not here, never was, never been. She wanted Billy. Gone gone gone goNE. Hell, she wanted Wayne. Pushed her aside. Doesn’t want to be near you. Don't TRUST YOU-

“I’m sorry about your hair.”

Laura’s quiet apology made her take a sharp breath, gazing down at her with a wide-eyed look. “What do you mean?”

The girl sat up straighter, still within the reach of Maximoff’s grip around her, and looked up at her with wariness in her eyes. Her fingers were tracing the patterns of the scales beneath them. “You’re upset. I can smell it.”

“Really,” Maximoff snorted. “All I can smell is shit.” That got a giggle out of Laura. “But don’t repeat that word.”

They slipped into silence once again, but Maximoff interrupted it with a soft sigh and hugged Laura closer to her. 

“It’s not you, okay?” She admitted. “The hair is fine. Just need to pair it with the rest, and I’ll look brand new, alright?”

She could feel a cold breeze hit the back of her neck, something that didn’t happen before. On the bright side, at least Laura knew from an early age that she didn’t have a talent for hair styling!

Her words didn’t seem to help settle Laura, as she continued to pout and frown deeply.

“Then, is it about the jacket?”

Maximoff couldn’t help the loud cackle that slipped out of her mouth, getting the attention of the rest of the group. They gave her weird looks as she laughed so hard until her eyes teared up, and held onto her bare stomach and Laura to gather herself.

The jacket was the last thing she could ever be upset about. She had even forgotten about it.

Lance whispered to Kitty, barely moving his sight from the wheezing girl. “I think she has finally lost it.”

“You okay, girl?” Jubilee asked, reaching back and touching Maximoff’s knee with concern written all over her face.

Maximoff took a couple of shaky breaths, wiping her face with a trembling smile. “I’m fine, I’m fine. God, I really needed that laugh.”

Suddenly, a bright light at the end of the tunnel almost blinded the group. They yelled and screamed, covering their faces as it came closer to them. Along with the light, a series of whispers followed them close behind.

“Hey! Dim dat light!” Waylon snapped, tail coiling behind him and curling around the group still sitting on his back. “You tryna get us blind?!”

White dots still danced around her field of vision, making her wince and pull Laura close to her as she whined and growled at the newcomers. Blinking rapidly, Maximoff’s eyes cleared, and she was taken aback by the now-filled tunnel.

A group of around seven people stood before them, all dressed in worn and patched clothes. But they each had a distinctive physical feature that set them apart from each other. Like a man with skin made out of metal, a woman with colorful hair, another one with green skin, and so on and on. They stared at them with relief and even excitement.

On the front, a woman with an eye patch stepped forward, holding a huge flashlight and taking a moment to stare at each one of the kids before speaking.

“About time you made it,” She boldly said, glaring at Waylon. “We got big trouble back at the nest. There are too many casualties.”

The teens looked at each other, growing alarmed at the woman’s words. That didn’t sound nice at all, and they had barely gotten out of enough trouble just a while back. What else could they get into now?

Caliban walked toward her, trying to smooth out the tension. “Caliban thinks we should head back home before arguing in front of scared children. They need help.”

Maximoff tried not to snort at John’s grumbling at being referred to as a scared child. Lance simply rolled his eyes and stepped forward, despite Kitty hissing at him to stop and stay put.

“Can y’all argue without us being here?” He bristled, crossing his arms. “We are soked to the bone, starving and in need of a change of clothes. So either back off or I’ll make you back off.”

There was a small tremble underneath their feet, leaving a clear threat and backing up Lance’s words.

At the exchange of looks between the woman and Waylon, Maximoff knew that maybe leaving the talking to Lance wasn’t such a horrible idea.

But only sometimes. When there's a threatening requirement.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Billy could feel the grains of sand beneath his fingers.

It was an odd type of sand. It wasn’t gritty like the one you would find at the beach, or clayey, like when it gets soaked in water. It felt so soft and almost impossible to grasp. Quite like dust, if he was able compare it to that.

It was warm. Malleable as he made mindless patterns over it and-

“Billy Maximoff.”

This new voice made him sit up with a gasp, eyes opening wide and taking in his surroundings while looking for the source of the voice. He was lying down on the ground, surrounded by dark sand and a towering gate standing on his right side. Carefully, he stood up, expecting to have his feet sink through the sand, and was surprised by finding it quite firm instead.

Where was he?

“I’m surprised you don’t recognize my realm, son of the Scarlet Witch.” The voice, now coming from behind him, remarked with some layers of curiosity on its tone. 

When he turned to face the owner of the voice, Billy was at a loss for words once recognition hit him like a wave to his face. He had only read about him in his books and heard of him in myths. The deeper he continued to search about the magic world and its many branches, the mention of the Lord of Dreams was impossible to avoid or ignore.

And just before him, after trying so many times in the past month, stood Lord Morpheus. Right in front of the gates of his realm.

“Holy shit-” Those were the first words that slipped out of Billy’s mouth.

The tall pale man’s lips twitched, but his expression remained the same. He began to walk towards the gates, expecting the boy to trail after him without much doubt.

“Come. Someone is waiting for you.”

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Author's Note:Fate may try me, but I'm a bad bitch that will fight against it!! IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO POST AGAIN, I had to take both a mental and health break after finishing the semester (which I FUCKING WON WITH STRAIGHT A's WOOOOO) Other than that, I have missed you all and I hope y'all enjoy this chapter a lot!! I fought hard to get it out before my birthday (which is the 23, and im turning 23 as well so LUCKY YEAR YAY) lol. Plenty of lore in this one 👀✨ As for upcoming chapters, for now you guys will have to wait after new years bc I'm going on a trip to New York and I can't bring my laptop with me 😭😭. After that, I'll plan out an update schedule bc I'm not as packed with classes for the next semester (THANK GOD-) Remember that I love recieveing comments and asks (which will remain open through the holidays!!) and that I love you all so so MUCH!! Lots of love and Hugs, GG✨

Translations: ¿De qué carajos está tipa esta hablando? - What the hell is this woman talking about? Maldita vieja - Damn old lady Nena - Girl (as a form of endearment) Cada día suenas más y más a Mamá - Every day you sound more and more like Mom

Tag List:

 @bat1212 @kneelforloki @1abi @galaxypurplerose @yhin-gg @cxcilla @momentomoribitch @stargirl404 @welpthisisboring @icefox8155 @bunniotomia @alittlelostmoonchild @devotedlyshamelessdetective @shycreatorreview @nirvanaxx1942 @soulsire @ryuushou @rinkydinkythinky @lithiumval @ithoughtthinks @reeyy0-2 @cssammyyarts @lordbugs @ilovecoffe0 @kore-of-the-underworld @fortunatelydifferentqueen @vanessa-boo @livingund3ad @aelxr @im-so-goddamn-tired @lovebug-apple @staarflowerr @xoxoyukixoxo @whyiseveryuseenametaken @holderoflostmemories @doggyteam2028 @leeiasure @shadowypeachsweets @jjoppees @astraeasworld @wrenbirde @scarletdfox @letsbedragonstogether @exactlynumberonekryptonite @randomlyappearingartist @angwlart @ceramic-raven @vndexd @suneaterscape @initial-ari

Bonus Memes:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4