Whenever Monarch was defeated, we thought that everything would go back to how it was before. We thought we could express ourselves freely. We could feel what we wanted to feel. And we were able to. Just not for long. Lila Rossi as we know her, but...
I paced back and forth in my room, my mind racing with worry for Angel, she started acting and talking just like Joker. I simply cannot understand after everything he did to her how she can work with him. Not only that but fight against me. Me!
After finishing the interrogation with her, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of my stomach. I needed to talk to someone about it, to share my concerns and try to make sense of what was happening.
"Grayson," I called out, opening my door as I hear his footsteps walk by. "We need to talk about Angel." I hated asking for help, or even talking about something that worried me. It made me appear out of control; I despised being out of control.
He nodded solemnly, his expression mirroring my own concerns. "I know, Little D. It's... troubling, to say the least."
I could see the worry etched in his features, and it only served to heighten my own fears. "Why did she take his side? After everything he did to her?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure. But whatever it is, it's like she's been completely consumed by it. We need to figure out how to help her."
Before we could continue our conversation, Todd and Drake join us, their expressions grave as they took in the scene before them.
"What's going on?" Drake asks, his brow furrowed in concern.
"It's Marinette," Grayson explains, his voice heavy with worry. "Something's not right with her."
Todd scoffed, his expression hardening. "You mean besides the fact that she was working with the Joker? Or the fucking seizure thing that scared all of us shitless?"
I bristled at his words; my fists clenched at my sides. "She's been through a lot, Jason. She needs our help, not our judgment." Only for her would those words ever leave my mouth.
He rolled his eyes, clearly unfazed by my words. "Whatever, Demon Spawn. I'm just saying, we need to be careful around her."
I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me, threatening to spill over. How could he be so callous, so dismissive of someone in need? Of Angel? Without another word, I turned on my heel and stormed off, needing to clear my head before I said something I would regret.
I found Marinette sitting in the chair where we left her in the middle of the Batcave, her eyes head bowed, hiding her face from everyone. "Hey, Angel," I said softly, approaching her cautiously. "Can we talk?"
She lifted her head up to look at me, her expression unreadable. "What do you want, Damian?"
I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to broach the subject. "I'm worried about you," I admitted finally. "You've been through so much, and... I just want to help."
She scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Help? Like you helped me when you kept pestering me to tell you what happened to me? Want me to give you the experience too? Were words not enough? I would gladly put you through everything he did to me. Then you would be fixed."
I winced at the reminder, knowing that I had only made things worse for her. "I'm sorry, okay? I was just trying to understand what happened."
She shook her head, her gaze turning cold. "You don't understand anything, Damian. None of you do." I missed her calling me Dami.
I reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled away, her eyes blazing with anger. "Don't touch me," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "When I get out of here, your blood will be the first I shed."
I could see the pain and defiance in her eyes, the walls she had built up around herself to protect against further hurt. But I refused to give up on her, not when she needed me the most.
"Angel, please," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper. "Let me help you. Let us help you."
She looked at me for a long moment, her expression softening ever so slightly. And then, without another word, she shut down. He face went blank, her eyes void of any emotion. It's as if she simply wasn't there. She did what I usually do. She shut herself off from everything and everyone, forcing herself to be numb and alone.
But there was one thing she couldn't shut herself off from.
Me.
I knew that I wouldn't give up on her. Not now, not ever.
