Begin Again (sequel to Isabella Marinette Martha Wayne)

Chapter 8

The following weeks were normal and not. Whenever they approached Marinette, questioning her about her powers, she would just poof! Even when Damian tried to hold her down, she somehow slipped out of his iron-cast grip that could break bones and skipped off!
When this happened the 11th time, she threatened them that next time they pull 'such a stunt', she'd make them disappear. "Your face off earth too, not just America," she added as an afterthought.
Well, as people who respected their safety, they unanimously agreed to give her the space she clearly needed.
No, Dick It was your idea. And quite a stupid one too. We should have given her space. Jason had said this after being subjected to his sister's very colorful threat.
But in general, she was glued to her laptop. Clacking away with coffee mugs and eyebags to rival and win over Tim's. Complaining about how "investors were one of the stupidest breeds of people to exist after villains and criminals." Except for two investors who had "some amount of sense," to quote her. Whenever they tried to sneak glances, she changed her screen quite openly too.
One day, Tim strolled next to her as she was sitting on the dining table, working on her computer. He leaned on the table and, without sneaking a peek at her screen, plainly asked her what she was working on.
Apparently, Dick placed too much faith in the fact that, as her oldest brother, he would be the first to know about his sister's mysterious activities. He was again wrong.
Marinette simply tilted her head. "I'm trying to start a business."
Tim nodded his head. "I saw the signs. If you need some help, let me know."
Marinette nodded in acknowledgement, and they both went back to their work as if nothing had happened.
When Jason tried to use the same tactics and ask her about it, he was met with such a deadpan stare that he backtracked out of it as fast as he could. A reunion month was meant for every Wayne. legal or not. Direct or via a relationship. Civilly. At Alfred's request. To say that all of them were concerned with Marinette's obsession with apparently starting a new business would be an understatement.
But they watched the silence as days passed by, and there was no change. Something that the detective family noticed was that things seemed to move in favor of her. For example, in one of her attempts to reduce her caffeine intake, Dick placed the cup just outside her reach so she would finally get up after sitting for five hours, but to everyone's astonishment, when she was reaching for the coffee cup, it automatically moved toward her, and she said, "Thank you," meaning that she was not the one who had attracted that wretched cup of coffee towards her. and here we find ourselves on the 15th night of her sitting in front of that glaring LED screen.
Everyone was sitting around in the living room, minding their own business. They were concerned about the Marinette habits but still minding their own business.
But then suddenly, a voice boomed up from the ceiling. It sounded a bit shrill, but they could understand it. "Marinette, this has gone along far enough. You need to stop spending all the time sitting in front of that screen. Come on, it's been forever since we went out for a run."
Another voice chimed out. "You better listen to her pigtails; she's been getting angsty."
Marinette gave a sigh and looked up at the ceiling. "You guys know I have work to do!"
As though in response to her statement, a page fell down seemingly nowhere from the ceiling across her keypad. Although it was hard to tell from a distance, it looked as if it was a party scene, and there was something written on it as well.
Marinette glanced over that page. "fine." She got up.
"But this doesn't mean you won!" she shouted over her shoulder. "I am still going to get work done starting tomorrow morning. I got this stupid interview from the PA to get over with as well."
"Which one?" the mysterious ceiling-inhabited voice questioned. "Not for my actual life, you."
"Ohh," the voice dragged out. "But what happened with Gamora, dear Marinette?"
The person in question sighed. "Don't push your luck, you big cheesy blob."
"Ouch pigtails that hurt."
"Yeah, destroying the dinosaurs was not an accident."
"It wasn't-t uh- sugar cube. I swear to the universe, I don't have anything against them. It was- uh, never mind."
Marinette giggled and walked towards the door, but Bruce, naive and emotionally constipated, God knows how he ever became Batman. He can never really let go, can he? Does the questioning detective in him ever rest?
"Where are you going, Isa?"
Marinette looked over at him with a calculating look. "Just going out to party a bit; maybe even find a cute date," she smiled and went poof.
The voice from above spoke up. "She really is out of the manor, you know. And we have a piece of advice for you: in order to find what you look for, look at those talking gizmos you have invented. and listen closely."
Afterward, they tried to question the voices again, but it seemed as though they were gone or had said all they wanted to say. Finally giving up, they turned to each other.
"what's next?" Barbara asked. "It's not like we can follow her, and I really do think she deserves some privacy."
"privacy?! You're worried about privacy!! She's going to find a date! You know what goes on in the minds of kids this age?!" Jason screamed.

"I take offense to that." Tim turned toward Jason. "And so do I." Damien added. "Just because you were a hormone-driven teenager doesn't mean everyone is!!"

"No, no, and no," Dick said, looking at his brothers. "That is not the point. Stop getting off course!"

"betrayer." Jason said, glaring at Dick. "traitor. I thought you would back me up on this."

"Come on, Jason, be realistic. She isn't going to end up with someone she has just met today. is she?" Roy asked, looking at others.

"No," Dick said. "And there is no point in torturing ourselves by thinking about the what-ifs. What is going to happen is going to happen, and we can deal with it when it happens."

"agreed." Fei said. "I'm more interested in what that ceiling voice told us. I'm not much experienced in ghost matters per se, but I think those were spirits. spirits that Marinette knows about, and I think it can give us what we are looking for."

"And what exactly are we looking for?" Jason asked, his eyebrows raised.

"We're looking for why she is so mad at you." Fei replied. "Look, I stole her belongings. I forced her to buy them back at ridiculously high prices, and with an apology, she forgave me. Why would she be so mad about Bruce shipping her off? She knows that while his actions were wrong, he did this because he wanted to protect her."

"I think he deserves what he is getting for shipping her off." Jason said, crossing his arms.

"And I agree." Fei countered back. "But this is Marinette; we're talking about looks as much as you don't like them. I've had more interaction with her when she came to Shanghai than she has with any of you since she came back to the manor. Don't you think there is a tiny chance the spirits could be right? I think so. and they gave us a clue too. talking gizmos. You know what that reminds me of? Phones. cell phones."

Turning towards Bruce, she asked him, "How come you never talked after you shipped her off? You don't just suddenly break all contact with your own kid."

"Welcome to our world." Jason grumbled. "That's exactly what we do here."

Bruce looked down. "I shut off the phone, which she could have called me on I-I," he sighed. "I couldn't bear the sound of her voice asking me to bring her back, so I decided to cut off all contact so as not to give into the temptation."

"But you still have that phone, don't you?" Fei cut in before the others could tell Bruce exactly how cuckoo bird that was. "We can still listen to the voicemails she might have left."