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Premise: Platonic! Yandere! Batfamily × Neglected Addict! Suicidal! GN! Reader.
Tags: Use of They/them, you/rarely first!pov,
Former chap: You and jason has a weird talk, or more so a 25 minute half silence, half talk, half of whatever, now you’re trying to uncover what the hell jason is talking about and why he disappeared for six months.
Note: hiiiiiiiiiiiii
Chapter Seven
Masterlist
———————-
A Burning Temptation
It’s been nearly a week since that conversation..or half ass of a conversation with Jason, and something has been bothering you ever since.
You didn’t know what it was, but you knew that it was an aching feeling of missing something.
With your thoughts in a babbled mess, you went to cool off in the swimming pool.
Walking towards the pool, holding a bag with just your change of clothes and some lotion—knowing your skin get dry—and a hairbrush, you moved.
Passing the grandfather clock, you didn’t think too much about it but turned your head to stare at it.
‘..The hell.’ You muttered, and checked your phone.
6:35.
You looked at the Clock.
6:38.
‘Annoying shit, why hadn’t anyone noticed—‘ You started to speak, but flinched back when you saw Damian just..standing there, his hands on his sides, with that stupid look on his face.
‘___.’ He said your name, tone slightly tense.
‘Damian.’ You muttered. ‘Stop sneaking up on people like that. You’re going to give someone a fucking heart attack.’ You reprimanded him, more annoyed then scared now.
‘Where are you going?’ He asked, eyes glancing at the clock, then your phone then to your face.
‘Why is that any of your business?’ You asked, running a hand through your hair.
‘..Because it is.’ Lame. Damian didn’t think you’d actually ask him why.
‘Piss off, go bother Timothy or something.’ You turned to walk away.
In Damian’s defense..he didn’t like the fact you were always kept out of..well.
‘..there is a saying, a clock will constantly and willingly tell you the time, but often holds the dearest times to itself.’ He spoke quietly and you whipped your head around to see him gone.
looking at the clock, your phone, the time.
6:38 on your phone.
6:38 on the clock.
‘Huh.’
…
‘This is so stupid, why do i even care about a clock.’ You muttered underneath your breath and started to walk into your room, grabbing a notebook, your phone and a pen.
You sat down in front of the grandfather clock the next day.
*Hiii, this part is slowly explained as you go down.
12:00 on your phone.
You looked up at the clock.
12:00.
You scratched off 12:00 am from your notebook.
..
1:00 on your phone.
You looked up at the clock.
1:01.
‘Huh.’
You looked down and wrote 1:01 on your note book.
..
2:28 on your phone.
You looked up at the clock.
2:28.
You scratched off 2 pm off your notebook.
.
hearing footsteps you closed your notebook and hid the rest of the stuff with you in your pocket.
‘..___..what are you doing..?’ Someone asked, you looked up to see Barbara staring down at where you were sitting, pockets full and your phone lighting up with some messages from a group you thought you silenced months ago.
‘Nothing, what’re you doing?’ You asked, or more just to chase her off your back.
‘I was..uh..Alfred told me to tell you that a light dinner is happening in a bit, he’s trying a new recipe so..’
‘..Okay? i’ll be there, probably.’ You shrug, unsure why she was still standing there, her eyes fixed on your now darkened phone, she opens her mouth to speak again but you cut her to it.
‘Is that all? Can you go away? I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone right now.’ You scoffed, turning away to look at the clock then the notebook.
‘Right..see ya at dinner then.’ She turns and walks off, but not before her eyes look at the clock and at you.
‘Fuck.’ She whispers, should she tell Bruce about this? That you’re standing right at the biggest entrance that leads to the Batcave? would you even solve it..?
‘Solve it..Would they?’ she whispers to herself, though you can’t hear it as she already turned the corner.
‘Huh..Do i want them to solve it?’ …
..
3:19 On your phone.
You looked at the clock
3:20.
…
Hours passed, slowly but surely from 12 am to 12 pm, you found out that six minutes in each hour was either wrong or incorrect.
This is what you got.
1:01 pm.
3:20 pm.
5:04 pm.
6:38 pm.
8:09 pm.
And finally.
10:19 pm.
‘The fuck..? am i reading into this too hard?’ You muttered, now in your bedroom, the window opened and a joint between your fingers.
Did you really spend nearly 10 to 11 hours just to see what different times is on that old stupid grandfather clock? It’s old! so old it probably has its own dust!
Groaning you looked at the numbers again.
‘The hell am i missing?’ You uttered.
—
“A clock will constantly and willingly tell you the time, but often holds the dearest times to itself”
The words hit your slow moving brain like a train, staring down at the numbers, you paused.
‘..Is it the hour? or the minute?’ You sighed and lifted your feet, placing them on the desk and you went on your phone, looking the numbers up.
-What does 1356810 mean?-
Something about manufacturing codes came up and you scoffed.
-What does 020301 mean?-
Nothing came up but images of APS and journalists.
-What does 1034899 mean?-
Nothing, you scrolled down images and froze.
A link.
Not just any link.
A professional Link about the Waynes.
You clicked on it.
It started out with what happened.
The Wayne family, Gotham’s most influential group, has been found shot dead in an alleyway with their son — Bruce wayne whom was uninjured and unharmed at the scene of the crime.
You kept reading, of course you knew how your father’s parents died, but seeing the photos of the tape outlines, of the yellow 1, 2, and 3s all around and blood everywhere, it made you look away.
You wanted to close the tab.
Wanted to forget this.
But forgetting isn’t something you can do.
Not that you cant do it, your body, brain and soul wont let you forget.
..
‘..Ugh..’ You groaned softly and looked down to see if there any information on why this popped up.
Found dead at 10:48 pm on September 19. Gotham has struck again, Bruce Wayne has yet to address the public and it’s company’s standing.
‘..10:48..9..19. Where the hell have i—‘ The time.
The number of minutes.
Looking down at the notebook, you slowly started to write.
10:48 9/19.
..
1048919.
‘The fuck?!’
Why the hell is your grandparent’s death date and time on the clock? why would anyone not notice this? there’s no way that no one noticed this.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁°❀ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁°❀ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁°❀
Next day, the Sun shined down into your dirty room, glowing the clothes on the floor, the empty plate where you grabbed them from the light dinner you never went too, the wrappers, the scent from yesterday as you sprayed the entire room down with air fresheners.
..
6:03 am.
‘Goals.’ You muttered and stood up, walking to the bathroom.
Disgusting.
That’s how you looked.
That’s how anyone could describe you at this moment.
Groaning, you took a shower and dried your hair off before heading into your room.
Where the next two hours were soent on cleaning and half of it was just shoved in the small closet you had.
8:43 am.
‘ugh..finally. I’m starving.’ You hummed and walked off to the kitchen but froze at the grandfather clock.
‘…’
‘…___?’
‘Fuck!’ You flinched back, staring at Timothy, who looked both surprised and flustered?.
‘The hell, Timothy! warn a bitch next time.’ You run a hand through your hair.
‘Sorry, are you grabbing breakfast?’ He asked and started to walk side by side with you, his ears slightly reddened.
‘Obviously.’ You rolled your eyes and finally the kitchen was right there, welcoming you.
Walking in, you see Bruce and Alfred chatting but Bruce’s eyes immediately look to yours as you head inside but—like always—you headed to the plates where alfred left you pancakes and some chocolate.
‘..starving.’ You started to eat, not noticing or maybe not caring for the tense atmosphere in the room.
‘..Ahem..___.’ Bruce speaks and you looked at him, cheeks filled with food.
..you looked..
So childish.
So innocent and soft.
As if he hadn’t ignored you.
As if he wasn’t the worst father someone could have..
‘What?!’ You spoke, snapping him out his trance and he looked down.
‘Nothing, Alfred, i’ll be at the company.’ Alfred nods, still cleaning while Bruce gave you one long, unreadable look.
After eating, you looked to yours left to see timothy also still eating, when he started to speak.
You had already walked out.
In front of the grandfather clock, you hummed as you inspected it, looking up, down, inside, outside, hell you even took apart the stupid sticks inside.
But nothing.
You sat down and rolled your shoulders, they ached.
‘..Pathetic, did you really sleep here or what?’ A voice spoke out, looking up it was Damian.
‘If i did? why the hell would it be your problem, freakshow. Go sharpen your stupid blade.’ He went silent at that and shrugged, turning to walk off but you heard something.
‘..overhead and right in your eyes. Idiot.’
‘what?’
‘Nothing.’
You stood up and stared at the grandfather clock, confused but noticed something, the seconds hand twitches around 12.
Opening the glass case, you pressed on 1, expectations were low, but to your shock.
A keypad appeared.
Code?
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
7 digits.
Looking around, you grabbed your shirt and made sure your fingerprints couldn’t be found, and pressed in.
Code?
1 0 4 8 9 1 9
The code scanned for what felt like hours before it beeped green.
You looked up in awe, annoyance, and anger as the clock snuck into the wall and steps appeared.
It was dark, gloomy moving in even one step, you stared as the walls glimmered and shined with a polished look.
‘What the fuck.’
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Notes: HIIIIIIIII IVYS, IM SO SORRY TO HAVE DISAPPEARED FOR SO LONG, I HAD TO FIND A NEW JOB AND EVERYTHING GOT OFF TRACKKK ANYWAYS..cliffhanger.
Masterlist
Next part ˋ°•*⁀➷
Taglist
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