#satisifed

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~~~

The next day, she walked through the bad part of town (was there really a bad part of town in a place like this?). With the horse miraculous the whole ‘walking’ thing wasn’t quite necessary, but she was waiting for something.

She checked her reflection in a mirror and made sure that her earpiece was completely invisible and continued on.

People avoided her like the plague. If you were wearing a costume you were either a rogue or a vigilante. In this part of town they were both equally bad. The best option was to avoid them and hope you don’t find out.

So, when she saw people approaching her, her brain shorted out a little bit. They were all obviously affiliated with each other. They were wearing the same suits, even had the same general build. Did their boss get mad at them? At her? Did they have some sort of grudge?

Then she saw the needle in the closest’s hand.

She made a squeaking noise in the back of her throat and turned on her heel. To her horror, she saw more people in those same suits. Great. Brilliant, even. They’d surrounded her and were blocking her only two exits.

She could use a portal, sure, but she didn’t want everyone to know her powers. The less people knew about her new persona the better.

“Feeellas,” she said awkwardly as they neared her, hands up in surrender. “Listen, listen, you rea -- eeee!”

She had been cut off when one lunged for her. She backed up as quickly as she could, eyes locked on the needle in his hand, only to feel a hand clamp around her shoulder.

Her head whipped around and the man gave an apologetic smile as he held up a syringe.

“Ah, bon,” she hissed.

She didn’t register a gradual drop of consciousness, didn’t even feel the needle puncture her skin. One second she was struggling to get out of the man’s grip, the next she was tied in a chair, a bag over her head.

She could hear people screaming in her ear but it all came out as fuzz.

“Quoi?” She murmured to herself.

The bag was whipped off her head at the sound and she blinked a few times as she tried her hardest to understand what was going on through all the fog.

She was in a warehouse of some sort, that much was obvious from the high ceilings and boxes. For some reason, though, only one light was on; the one right above her shone brightly, making it hard to see more than a few feet in front of her.

Her brain cleared when she felt the cold barrel of a gun touch the back of her head. Her pupils dilated in fear. Even if it wouldn’t kill her, a shot to the head would definitely leave her incapacitated for the next few days.

A person stepped into her vision.

She looked up at the face of Harley Quinn and gave a weak smile. “Hey, miss, if you wanted to thank me this wasn’t at all necessary.”

She gave a soft laugh. “Thanks for your help, darlin’, but that’s not what you’re here for.”

“Then why?” She asked, trying to subtly tip her head back and see who had a gun to her head.

She heard the safety click and froze. She slowly trained her gaze back on the woman in front of her, but she never heard the safety turn back on.

The intention was clear: one more chance.

The smile that stretched across the woman’s face was so calculated and cold that she felt a shiver run through her. “I just have a few questions for you.”

She looked up at the woman in front of her and knew instantly that lying would be a fatal mistake. While she definitely gave off the impression of someone who had a few screws loose, her eyes were far too sharp for that to be completely true. At the very least, she’d been a very smart person before she had gone off the deep end. There was nothing saying that she didn’t keep those smarts when she’d changed.

So, no lies. This should be fun.

She swallowed thickly. “Of course.”

“One: why did you help me?”

“I was in the area, I saw you fighting Robin, I wanted to help you out.”

“Okay, that’s how, but why?”

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek. “You’re pretty high up in the crime world, I thought it would be a good idea to get on your good side.”

Harley raised her eyebrows. She must not have detected a lie, because in all technicality there wasn’t one, so she moved on: “Two: how do you know Robin?”

She blinked a few times.

“He went easy on you at first, it’s not normal for him.”

She gave a small shrug. “We’d met before. Didn’t go great on either of our ends but definitely not for me.”

Harley nodded. “Three: why can’t I take off your mask?”

Oh, thank kwami. Something she could answer having to think of a lie. “Miraculi don’t let you take them off without a fight. Especially this one, because it doubles as a mask.”

“Miraculi?” The woman’s cold smile dropped slightly in her confusion.

Great. She’d been wrong. Apparently they weren’t all that well-known in America. She could have hidden that information by just saying it was a part of her powers. Still, she couldn’t start lying now, so she just said: “It’s a France thing, apparently. It just grants me my powers.”

“And how do those powers work?”

She gave a small shrug. “I can open portals anywhere I can see or visualize perfectly. Like, I can make a portal across the room and send another to my house, but I can’t make one ‘just outside’ because I don’t know where I am.”

Harley nodded slowly. “Last question: why are you on this side?”

The girl closed her eyes to think, then looked up at the woman. “Necessity,” she said simply.

She looked at the person behind Marinette and tipped her head to the side. “She wasn’t lying.”

“She’s still hiding things,” said a man’s voice.

“She’d be stupid not to.”

There was a long silence and Marinette’s forehead beaded with sweat.

The safety clicked and the gun left her skin. She breathed a sigh of relief and slumped in her chair as much as her restraints allowed.

Harley smiled. “Have you already had your debut? You said you had already fought Robin once before...”

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek. “I’ve not really done anything outside of fight him while like this. I kind of wanted to do some sort of major thing to debut.”

“Weeeell,” she began.

The man behind her sighed. “Harley. Don’t.”

“Whaaat? I like her,” she pouted.

The man groaned.

The woman grinned and leaned down to be at eye level. “Listen, darlin’, we’re planning to crash the Wayne Gala. You want in?”

Marinette’s eyes widened. The Wayne Gala? She cursed in French. She was lucky she hadn’t yet made prototypes for the outfits, because she was going to have to rework them to make running easier.

“Um... don’t speak French, darlin’.”

“Oh. I was just saying that sounds fun! Can’t wait!” (It was true, the context had just been much different.)

The woman walked around her. “Great! Let me just untie you...”

“No need.” She winked and opened a portal under herself and went crashing to the ground a few feet away. The chair broke under her from the force and she grinned as she pushed the splinters away from herself.

“Are you okay?” Came Batman’s voice in her ear, and Harley unknowingly echoed him.

“Yeah, these suits are pretty durable,” she answered both, then looked up at her captors. Whoever the guy was, he wasn’t the Joker. Still, he had the very distinct look of a villain. She frowned slightly as she tried to place his face, then shrugged to herself. She’d describe him to the bats later.

She stood and picked up the rope holding her, then pouted at the pair. “You used my own weapon to tie me?”

“Sorry, darlin’,” said Harley, not sounding at all sorry. “It was what we had on hand.”

She reattached her lasso to her waist. “Alright. I’m gonna head out. Next time, if you want to contact me, could you just send a guy to tell me so?”

Harley grinned. “No promises.”

She sighed and shook her head slightly, then opened a portal back to the grocers rooftop. She sent a tiny wink before slipping through.

~~~

You know I got five plants at the beginning of this and named each of them after a different Wayne, then I said ‘hey, whichever one(s) is/are dead by the end of three weeks will die in the fic’ and all of them are still alive. The plants have spoken

~

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There was silence as she stepped into the warehouse.

Of course there was. She was covered in blood, and it was pretty obvious from the splatter that it wasn’t her own.

She walked over to Joker, her posture stiff, her expression set in a grimace. She felt her grip tighten on the bag and gun.

She practically threw the stolen goods, probably would have if she’d felt strong enough to. Instead, she thrust it into his chest and turned on her heel to leave.

“Where are you going?” Asked Joker.

“Home. I have a day job and this is going to be a pain to get out,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. Still, she stopped walking. He clearly was implying that she needed his permission to leave and, though she hated it, she desperately needed him to trust her so the Rogues would be able to. She supposed that she could stay for a bit longer. If he trusted her, then she would be allowed out to have some privacy. If he didn’t…

Well, she wouldn’t need to worry about having a breakdown.

“Is all this good enough, sir?”

“Let’s see, shall we?”

The man took his time as he rifled through the bag. She could feel his gaze on the back of her head, scrutinizing her, looking for... something. Whatever answer he got, he sighed.

There was a beat, then the sound of his shoes scraping the floor as he turned around to face the Rogues. “I don’t think she’s dangerous to us.”

There was a collective sigh of relief.

“But I don’t think that she’s cut out for the Wayne operation.”

There was a new silence.

Marinette felt tears threaten to spill over the corners of her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. She finally turned back around to face everyone. “May I know why?”

“Well, if this is how you’re going to act after one little murder, then how are you going to kill anyone? How did you not catch this, Harls?”

Her eyes found their way to Harley, who looked like she’d been caught. She set down her Skittles and walked over to Marinette, wrapping her arms around her from behind. “Doesn’t matter if she can’t kill anyone, Puddin’. Her powers give us an easy in without alerting security.”

Joker nodded slowly. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned in so close to Marinette that the girl tried to sink into Harley’s embrace.

“Fine. You may go. I need time to think it over.”

She nodded quickly and pulled herself away. With a wave to the Rogues, she opened a portal to her apartment and dropped into her bathtub.

She changed the setting on her comm so she could hear everyone else.

“ -- lled someone!” Hissed Batman.

“Who cares? She can fix it, right?” Asked Red Hood.

Red Robin sighed. “Not without giving herself away as Ladybug she can’t. Anyone who’s done even a minute of research knows she has to be involved in the fight to use the Miraculous Ladybug thing.”

“So the options are to let Mr. Watson die or let the operation fail,” said Nightwing grimly.

“Good! Let it fail!” Yelled Red Hood. “She wasn’t doing well before this! Kid needs a break. She shouldn’t have to sacrifice her mental health for this!”

Robin sighed. “You heard Joker, they’re planning on killing at least one person at the Wayne Gala, probably more.”

“Then we think of a new plan! We have around a month and a half! More security!”

“This is selfish and you know it.”

“Hey, don’t you --!”

“Don’t you guys think I should get a say in this?” Marinette finally chimed in, her voice quiet.

No one said anything.

“I’d like…” Her lip trembled and she took a deep breath. “I’d like some time to think about it.”

After a moment’s pause, Red Robin spoke: “Of course. Would you like someone to go talk to you?”

She rested her head back against the tap. “No, I’m going to call over a friend.” Her eyes widened. “No offense or anything! I just wanted --.”

“It’s fine, kid, we understand. You have a long time before you need to make a decision, go ahead and take some time for yourself.”

She nodded. “Alright, see you on patrols tomorrow.”

She snickered as all the boys chimed in at once to tell her just how bad an idea that was.

“Kidding, guys.”

There was a collective sigh.

“Right, I’m heading out. Bye-bye!”

There was a chorus of ‘bye’s and she turned off her comm and detransformed.

Kaalki collapsed into her hands and Marinette whispered an apology, examining the kwami for damage. They weren’t hurt or anything, they just looked shell-shocked.

She set the kwami down on the edge of her sink and filled it with soap and water (to the horse’s preference, of course, Marinette wasn’t stupid). After a bit of searching she found the cake she’d baked before she left. She set it down on the edge of the sink for Kaalki to eat when she was done ‘bathing’.

Marinette then went to clean herself. She used a mix of cold water and baking soda to get the blood from her clothes and then decided it was about time to get her actual body clean.

She scrubbed her skin as hard as she could. Maybe, somewhere, she understood that she wasn’t helping by rubbing her skin raw but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She felt so… unclean. A sob threatened to escape her throat and she cringed, only rubbing harder.

Red and suds slid down the drain, she only scrubbed. Maybe if she did it enough she could be rid of this body. Become someone new, fresh skin with a fresh start.

Eventually, with pink skin and red-rimmed eyes, she turned off the water and stepped out. She toweled herself off and pulled on some pajamas, then dropped onto her bed.

She knew that the blood was still in her apartment, knew that there was a trail from her tub to her counter and then back again, but she couldn’t bring herself to do anything.

She picked up her phone and scrolled through her messages. Tikki settled down on the pillow next to her. The kwami had been doing better since she and Robin had used Plagg, though she clearly wasn’t at 100% quite yet. A tiny hand rested on her cheek and Marinette gave her a tiny smile.

She didn’t know how she felt about Tikki being around and active again. On the one hand: Tikki was back! Her friend was alive and well! Tikki wasn’t suffering anymore! On the other hand: Tikki was back. And she was getting the little exasperated look she usually got whenever she was about to get a light scolding.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The answer was no, but she knew what would happen if she said that. She’d get a tired ‘Marinette!’ and a stern look and she’d be forced to fess up anyways. She knew Tikki only wanted the best for Marinette, wanted her to be happy and healthy, but being the god of passion made it hard for her to express these feelings normally.

Not that Marinette could really say anything about that. There was a reason why she’d been paired with the goddess, after all.

She continued scrolling until she found the contact she was looking for.

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” she promised. “I don’t want to have to talk about it twice, though.”

Tikki looked disapproving, but allowed her to do this.

Definitelyforgottosleep: help

She couldn’t help but be nervous when they read her text and didn’t say anything, right up until she heard a knock on her door.

She trudged over and the moment she opened it Chloe rushed inside, first aid box in hand. “What is it this time? Gunshot? Stabbing? Poison?”

Marinette blinked once, her brain scrambling to figure out what was going on, then a quiet laugh bubbled from her throat. She closed the door behind her, shaking her head. “No, no, I didn’t mean like that. I wanted to talk.”

Chloe seemed torn between being annoyed and relieved. “So you want free therapy?”

She looked away, her face reddening. She supposed that was kind of what she was asking for, though the idea of admitting to it was weird. The whole topic of mental health and therapy had been mostly taboo during and after the Hawkmoth situation, because often reliving bad events would evoke negative emotions.

Marinette forced a laugh. “I mean, what would I even say to a therapist? Don’t tell anyone but I’m Ladybug and things are not going well?”

Tikki sighed. “Marinette…” Ah, there it is. A classic.

Chloe gave a small, tense smile. “You really should talk to someone.”

She opened her mouth.

“Someone besides us. A professional.”

Marinette closed her mouth.

While this was probably -- no, definitely -- true that professional help was needed, she didn’t know how she could even start. I killed a guy as revenge for him murdering my friend but I can’t prove this because they’re both actually alive right now so just trust me? I bisected a person with a portal? Sure, that would go over well. She’d either get thrown into an asylum or thrown into jail.

Instead of saying this, though, she gave a small shrug.

The three girls sat on the bed and Marinette chewed on the inside of her cheek as she stared at her hands. How does someone just start talking about the fact that they’ve committed two murders in three days?

But, eventually, the words came to her. She didn’t know when she started crying, but by the end she was curled up with her head on Chloe’s lap as she struggled to explain how she’d killed the clerk through choked sobs.

The two were silent. Tikki nuzzled herself against her cheek comfortingly. Chloe ran her hands through her hair. But they weren’t saying anything.

Marinette closed her eyes tightly. Now that she was done reliving it, it felt a little better than it had been before. Sure, she was nowhere near healed, but she couldn’t help but lean into the touch of her friends. It was nice to talk about her emotions, to actually let herself feel them. To know there were people who supported her despite everything.

Chloe finally spoke up: “So, what do you want to do?”

Marinette looked up. “I was kinda looking for advice…”

“Marinette… this isn’t something we can decide for you. Your mental health is important, but so are other people’s lives. Since we aren’t giving up either, we don’t really have a say,” explained Tikki gently.

“We have what we would do if we were in your situation --.”

“So tell me that!”

Chloe rolled her eyes and continued: “-- but, really, that’s for our own lives with our own morals. This is a question about your life and your morals. We can’t help you.”

She let her eyes fall back to her sheets.

Her decision, huh?

Red Hood had, shockingly, had a point. It wasn’t fair to ask her to give up her own mental wellness for others. Even if she was doing it willingly, she was still giving up a huge part of herself. While in a bad state, mind you, which could impair her judgement.

Still, if she went from a strict numbers point of view, it was one person’s wellness versus the wellness of at least one other person (but likely far more than one). No matter what, at least one person was going to end up suffering. Shouldn’t she just go with the option where there was a guarantee on only one person rather than a chance at hundreds getting hurt?

She knew what ‘Ladybug’ would do… but what about Marinette?

Her mind wandered to the clerk she’d bisected earlier that day. To that look of surprise and fear that would forever be etched on his face. She grit her teeth.

She couldn’t let that happen to anyone else.

~~~

I traumatized ya’ll I’m sorry

I’ll start doing trigger warnings

~

Listen guys next chapters are fluff I promise I’ll make it up to you --

~

I spent literal hours yesterday researching hinduism in order to think of what type of food to give Kaalki for one offhand line

And then I made a portal reference

~

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~~~

She hummed to herself as she wandered through town. She really wished they would have trusted her enough by now to just tell her their hideout location. Even if they were right to be suspicious, they really had no reason to be. She didn’t think she’d be alive if they found out she was working for the bats, so why…?

Marinette was pulled from her thoughts when she saw the henchmen. She calmly put her hands in the pockets of her dress as they approached. Fighting back or running away was useless, considering it was about ten on one and she was still trying to remain mostly unknown, so why bother?

“Hey, fellas!” She chirped.

They didn’t smile or respond, but she was used to that.

What she wasn’t used to was them forcing a bag over her head without giving her tranquilizer. She gave a tiny, confused frown as she was hoisted over someone’s shoulder and carried out into the night.

She felt her feet touch ground and smiled as she pulled the bag off of herself.

A glance around made the difference obvious. Joker wasn’t there. She resisted the urge to pump her fist in the air at the tiny victory.

Harley nearly tackled her in a hug and she rolled her eyes, but still hugged back. “Woo… almost time,” she said with as much cheerfulness as she could muster.

Harley seemed to brush off her hesitance as nerves, as she pressed a kiss to the top of her head and said: “Don’t worry about it, darlin’! Everything's going to plan!”

“Right, so… what is the plan, exactly?”

The Rogues went still. All eyes slowly made their way to Penguin, who gave a small shrug. “Hm... guess I never told her… oops?”

“I thought we all agreed she was trustworthy!” Said Scarecrow.

Penguin gave a small shrug. “Information is power.”

“Not when you’re keeping it from your allies!” Hissed Catwoman.

He shrugged as if to say ‘agree to disagree’. “Joker was right, though, she’s not cut out for murder. Maybe we shouldn’t involve her.”

Crap. There was no way in hell that she was going to screw up this close to the end… she raised her eyebrows teasingly. “Aw, Penguin, is that you trying to care about me? That’s so sweet of you!”

His eyes narrowed slightly. He knew that she was just doing it to annoy him into including her but that didn’t mean it didn’t work: “Of course not! I just don’t want a liability on my team!”

She hummed lightly. “Mhmm, sure. But Joker agreed I wasn’t a liability, so…”

“How would you know that?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Marinette smiled. “So, what’s the plan?”

Poison Ivy smiled and walked over to pull out a handy chalkboard. She drew a crude map of the layout of the Wayne Mansion with a bunch of squiggles in the middle of the courtyard to represent all the people. “Right. At eleven-thirty you’re going to portal us inside the house because that doesn’t change. We crash the party and after that… how many portals can you maintain?”

She hesitated. “For more than a few minutes? One set.”

Harley nodded slowly and circled the two gates. “Alright, then we need you to hold up portals by these two main exits so people will have a hard time escaping.”

“Escaping… what?”

Poison Ivy beamed. “We’re going to assassinate every person in a position of power.”

That wouldn’t work unless… She went pale. “But… it’s a masquerade. There’s… how will you tell?”

Please, please, please don’t be saying what she thought they were saying --.

“Everyone there has power of some sort, either politically or economically.” Scarecrow explained. “And if the past few years have proven anything it’s that they aren’t using it right. So: anarchy.”

“But anarchy doesn’t just work like people think it does! Sure, there will be no real laws for a little while, but it’s temporary! It’s a power vacuum! Eventually someone will come along and grab everything.”

“Exactly!” Said Penguin. “And since everyone else will be rather… indisposed, it’s ours!”

Hands came up to rest on her shoulders.

She swallowed thickly and looked away. Her mind found its way to the question he’d asked her when they’d been playing cards. ‘What is it you need?’ She’d given him the answer ‘power’ and this was his appeal to that.

And she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t tempting. She’d never be hurt again, she’d never be weak again. But she wouldn’t give into that temptation. She couldn’t. Couldn’t even pretend to. Because they would give power to her if she asked them to.

And she didn’t know what she’d do.

She pushed his hands away and took a step back. “There are going to be kids at the Gala.”

“Don’t worry, we have a plan to get them out,” said Catwoman, who walked over and slung herself over Marinette’s shoulders. “Why? Scared for your little boy toy?”

Her face warmed and she sighed. “A little, but also for the actual kids. How are we getting them out?”

The woman shrugged against her. “Manually. We’ll all pick them up, give them a bit of money, and send them on their way before we open fire.”

Marinette cringed. “You’re going to ‘send them on their way’? They’re kids! They won’t survive!”

“At least we’re giving them a chance to,” said Scarecrow.

“Besides,” added Penguin. “If they want they can join us as henchmen! Most of the street kids end up that way, anyways.”

She felt bile build in her throat.

She’d hoped, somewhat naively, that with a little bit of work and guidance they could all be good people. Sure, they all had done some horrible stuff, but she’d thought that they were mostly victims who had been manipulated by people who knew what they wanted and how to get it -- like Joker and, to a lesser extent, Penguin. But now… she was forced to confront the fact that, beyond whatever had happened in their lives to make them snap, they were ultimately smart people. They were perfectly aware of what they were doing and were absolutely okay with it. Took joy in it. It would take theoretical years of work for them to ever be fully rehabilitated, and even then she had her doubts it could work.

But then Harley reached out and poked her cheeks up into a smile and gave her such a kind look that Marinette managed to hold onto a scrap of that hope. There had to be some little pieces of humanity left in them, she’d seen them poke through -- they’d been angry when their henchmen had hurt her, they’d decided to spare the children (even if they had to justify it like that). There was still someone in there, some conscience begging to be listened to. And that was enough. She could work with that.

She at least had to try.

Marinette brought a smile to her face, taking Harley’s hands in hers. This was all if the bats won, of course, and though she hoped they would...

She figured she should have a backup plan in place. And if the Rogues won, there were some people who would need her help far more: “Can I have a mansion to help the kids? I don’t like the idea of just leaving them to fend for themselves.”

Harley smiled and squeezed her hands. “Of course! I’m sure Penguin can give you a nice one in his territory.”

Penguin opened his mouth to protest.

The woman’s eyes went cold. “I’m sure Penguin can give you a nice one in his territory,” she repeated.

He let his mouth fall closed and nodded his agreement.

Marinette couldn’t help but laugh. Then she pursed her lips as she mused aloud: “Right, so Penguin is doing this for the money and/or power.”

“Of course.”

“I assume Scarecrow is here for the fear.”

“And the elite status, really,” Scarecrow waved her off.

She nodded. “Noted. Ivy is here for killing the rich.”

“Woo!”

“Riddler…?”

He shrugged. “Is bored.”

“Right. Sorry about that. Wanna do a puzzle together in a minute?” They exchanged smiles and she continued: “Catwoman wants money.”

“Money is good,” the woman agreed.

“And Harley is here for Joker. But why is Joker doing it?”

Harley shrugged calmly. “Why does he do anything? For Batman’s attention.”

“Doesn’t he always have it? The guy could probably walk through town and Batman would show up.”

She gave her a sad smile. “It’s never enough.”

~~~

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