Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This is a Vampire Academy AU. Before I start please note several things:
1. This is an AU, whilst several plot points have stayed the same, i have moved around the timeline, added more in, removed some and (as my main character is not the beloved Rose Hathaway) several of the mc choice's are different.
2. I have not read all Batman and Co's comics or watched all their shows and films. The characters I write will be slightly ooc, however i have tried to stay true to versions i know. If (anyone does read this and) anyone thinks someone is being really butchered, I apologise.
3. This delves slightly further into Dhampir and Moroi culture and stuff- but it is my own opinion, though i am curious if anyone else has over analysed it?
4. This has slight- slight- Lissa Dragomir bashing, cuz i thought her and Roses dynamic was not explored as deeply as it could have been. I love Lissa Dragomir, so this is more Moroi Bashing? Hope that makes sense. So its not so much bashing, just more exploration into the imperfect beings the characters are?
Hope anyone reading this enjoys!

Also, i dont own anything, but my computer (my first big purchase lol)

Chapter Text

Gotham: 17-18 years ago

Bruce Wayne had to make an appearance for the newest auction. At 23, Bruce Wayne had just started Batman full time, prowling the streets, ripping up the rot of Gotham. The nights were long, but here, smoozing and wine dining the elite, Bruce was bone tired. The constant remembering of who to talk to, what to say, how to act was wearing down his smile plastered on his face. His face hurt. The lights were adding to his headache, as was the constant murmur of noise and clinking of glasses.
Janet Drake, catching his eye from across the expansive open space before sharply smiling at the auctions curator and ensnaring them in conversation, was wearing a long black floor length gown that showed her baby bump, her husband standing steps away laughing at the other men, dressed up in suits and sparkling cufflinks.
It was loud.
Bruce had fended off several questions regarding settling down; from parents interested in merging with Wayne Enterprise; to journalists invested in the socialites life and desperate for a scoop on the Wayne. But it'd been too long since he'd been seen with someone, leaving too soon and too 'sneakily', and rumours had started that Bruce Wayne may have stopped his bachelor ways. People were getting too close; figuratively and-
"Mr Wayne?"
Literally.
It took 20 minutes to escape the dull conversation about the museums architecture, he couldn't say that the white walls were starting to glare at him and the chandelier was mocking him from above, away from the people: no the room was spacious, the chandelier a perfect adornment.
Across the room, Lady Bounds entered the museum. She was wearing a high-collared dress adorned in red, with puff sleeves; elegant but uncommon here. She drew whispers and looks, but soon was forgotten in the sea of dresses and suits- she was rich, and uncommon was not unusual. She was joined with several men and women, dressed and draped in undoubtably expensive and one of a kind outfits- inevitably destined to collect dust on the racks, deemed used after one wear.

The auction was one where interested parties would ask the worker (dressed in simple suits and holding a clipboard next to the item) to write down their bid and number, and would mill about tasting the hor d'ouves and sipping the wine, until the final bidding is called and the final bids are placed, and then all are ushered into the next room for their several course meal where the winners are called out and all clap politely.

Lady Bound and the rest of her party circled about placing their bets; several other people fanned out around them- in white shirts and simple plain black trousers and jackets- blending into the background, watching their charges. The party soon found people to talk to, meaningless conversations starting up. Lady Bound was placing a bet on an old tapestry, a hooded figure speaking to hundreds, preforming miracles, with their faithful disciple behind them in the shadows, when she bumped into Bruce.
"My apologies," he started, careful to move his drink onto a tray away from potentially spilling on her.
"It was my mistake," she answered, laughing simply.
Bruce noticed two people start to move closer to them, dressed in matching outfits; one a short young woman with red hair cropped to her ears, another a taller person with longer hair tied up. They were focused on her and everything around her at the same time, but a small nod from the pale woman in front of him stopped them. Bodyguards.
"I do not believe I've seen you here before, Bruce Wayne," taking her hand and kissing it.
"No, I am just visiting, my family has an interest in some of the items," she says, gesturing to the tapestry behind her.
"You have an interest in art?"
"Me? No, honestly I am quite bored, I've already finished my part today. It is good music though, "she whispers before both descend into laughter.
Bruce had tuned out the orchestra, though talented it was just another sound on top of the buzz to him, but the soft elegant sounds of the professionals filtered through him once again.
"Would you like to see more of Gotham? I-"
"I am interested in the hotel, wasn't able to see it earlier," she says confidently, a smile showcasing her white teeth and highlighting her dark red lips.
It cuts him short, but he nodded and followed her out, ensuring whilst he was seen leaving, that his new lady friend was just hidden from view, effectively cutting the rumours of settling down away.

In the morning, he would say goodbye to the lovely lady only later remembering to look her up and realising he couldn't recall her name. It was pushed to the side however, as Gotham called upon her Dark Knight to fight. And 3 years later, with his first- but not last child- and the introduction of Robin, this one night would barely cross his mind. But it wasn't until more than a decade passed that this night was all but forgotten.

Some random field: Today

Constantine had called the Justice League in for some amateur magician that had managed to steal a very dangerous artifact.
The investigation into the radiation that artefact leaked had resulted in the Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin, having just finished several missions, to be the first to reach the field; a looming cloud growing from the center. Concentric circles lay around the magician, wearing a dark-
"A duffer coat? Where's the theming?" Nightwing asked, as the Batplane landed outside the clouds clutches.
"We've been spoiled with Gotham villains. Then again, here we are dressed as birds," Red robin replied, the computer on his arm lighting up with the magicians details, "Daphne Dove-
"Another Bird," Nightwing interrupts.
Red Robin continues nonplussed, "was part of a bars regular acts. Thursday nights at 5. Started coming into work tired, apparently had trouble sleeping, 7 lates and 4 no-shows. But it wasn't until she seemed to zone out during her show she was let go."
"The artifact?" Robin questioned, finishing his check of his utility pockets.
Batman answered, "Stolen from a museum that the Justice League Dark had highlighted as an area of interest. A level 6. It was as found with letters describing it as a miracle cure for visions."
"Visions? Could explain the trouble sleeping, the spacing out. Why has it been labelled a level 6?" Nightwing pondered, as the door opened and they stepped outside. The wind began to pick up, kicking up his hair and he raised his arm to shield his face.
"Its got the potential to create portals, to anywhere and any time. The amount of power it can take, we don't know how bloody bad it'll be, just that it wont be good It should just be left alone!" Constantine interrupts, shouting to be heard, leaving the portal that only just appeared, a drawing of a doorway that showed an alleyway behind him, a stray cat staring owlishly at the glowing swirl. It closed suddenly, and Constantine's jacket played rapidly in the wind.
Looking over to the young magician in the center, more concentric circles growing around them, flattening in a detailed pattern from her standing body. She was slightly curled into herself, holding desperately the artifact in her hands. Her long brown hair , ends dipped in bottle blond, was whipping around her hair. Smoke was rising from the closest circle raising from the ground.
The Gotham vigilantes began the walk towards her, spreading out to circle her, Constantine following Batman. They moved as a unit, covering each other but as they moved closer the wind seemed to slow, as if trapped in the center circle. It seemed to whip around her, dragging her hair above, away from her. Daphne was chanting, mummering, and yelling and as Nightwing drew closer from behind her the others could start to make words out over the coms. Ramblings of words about vampires, suffering, the dark, the light.
"Vampires?" he questioned the others, but Daphne seem to have heard, and began shouting louder, not even turning to look at him, "They are pale. Some pass for human, could live amongst us, the others. Paler, eyes blood, inhuman. Monsters. Not Dead. The dead. The darkness screams. Hates them. We should fear what the dead hate. Pain. So much pain. So young. The light dragging the dark back. Alone."
Distracted, a Batarang flew by her, catching her ear, but the wind took it away and it went shooting into the field, causing Constantine to duck as he swore.
Her head snapped to Batman as the others drawled closer, the plan changed to restraining her by hand as projectiles seemed to be unpredictable.
"You."
It drew Batman to a stop "Daphne Dove".
Focused on him, Daphne finally seemed to break down, laughing, "You know nothing. Your eldest, destined for suffering, for the shadows. They want him. Earned him. He shouldn't be here."
Batman, only a few steps away from the circle, slowly started to carefully step forward, as Daphne drew closer to him, the wind following her. She grabbed his face, drawing blood from his skin with her nails leaving thin lines down his cheek. She moved to clutch the artifact, and the artifact seemed to split, the top sphere becoming clearer, crystal, with the blood dripping of its clear surface, the bottom staying stone. The top sphere started rolling off the stand onto the grass in front of her in between her and Batman , as she continued, undisturbed.
"Now you'll see. You'll be able to watch, but do nothing. Nothing."
She continues cackling, even when Batman restrains her, brings her to the floor and gives her a sedative. The weather had seemed to stop, the cloud receding slowly, but Daphne's laugh and words spiralled in Batman's head.
"Nightwing," he ordered a response, looking up at him from where he drew closer.
"I'm okay... She drew blood."
"Robin,"
"She said something about the dead and shadows, what if the shadows is death, eldest?" Red Robin started.
"I'm unharmed," he starts, moving closer to Batman to give his father a clearer vision, "I'm ok."
"It doesn't make sense," Red Robin continues, "we have to be missing something."

Batman dragging Daphne to her feet knocked the crystal ball backwards, rolling closer to Nightwing.
"It looks like a crystal ball. Portals.." he thinks, picking it up.
Constantine goes to create a portal but Batman interrupts, telling him that they will be bringing her to the watchtower for questioning.
"There's several other artifacts missing mate, and there's some important people that one of the artifacts belong to that I need to find and grab."
"We will be going to her apartment once she is placed into her cell," is the curt response from Batman as he continues moving Daphne to the plane.
"Ok then."

Daphne's Apartment: Today

Using a zeta portal once Daphne is locked away to get to Gotham, Batman, Robin and Constantine made their way to her apartment.
"The rest of the motley crew not joining us?" Constantine questions, huffing about the several flights of stairs he's had to climb. Batman and robin, of course, were not out of breath and barring the tightness in Batmans fists, seems unperturbed by the current situation.
Her apartment was on the 7th floor of an apartment on the outskirts of Gotham, The building was clean, but only surface level, as if a wet cloth had been ran over it. Old stains littered the floor, and the barren walls betrayed the attitudes of the owner, uncaring for a cosy lively feel, just the bare minimum.
Entering the home, they found the walls had been littered in drawings. Sharp grey metal pointy 'weapons', a simple drawing repeated over and over again. Mixed in were drawings of the so called monsters Daphne had been describing pale, filled in with white chalk, with blood red eyes, mouths covered in blood, dangerous fangs; and two other drawings, one of an outline of a young women surrounded by gold, by light and a final, an outline shrouded in darkness, it kicking at their heels and snaking round their arms and neck. The furniture was simple and mismatched, a testament to having been brought whenever possible or necessary. A few plates sat in the sink, the rest of the cutlery and plates lined up on the drying rack.
"She was obviously seeing something. Constantine, anything to add?" Robin speaks up,
"For the artifact to work, she'd have to have some magic, the letters do state-
"If they are to be believed."
"-If you can believe them- that its responsible for curing visions, these may have been her trying to release them, get them out of her head. Must have been causing a hell of a headache."
"But it did not work."
"Obviously not, must have heard or seen the artifact-"
"How."
"Probably searched it up Batman- obviously."
"She must have been desperate, she has no previous criminal history. Nothing," Nightwing pipes through the coms, having finished taking Daphne's prints and searching for any record of her, "Sleeping Beauty is still out of it, her sedative wears off soon, but i don't thinks she's been getting much sleep so it'll probably be nearly 8 hours till she's awake."

From further into the apartment, Robin calls Batman in, Constantine following behind. Hidden underneath her bed is a plastic box filled with several artefacts from the same museum.
"She did take them!"
"Must not have known what artefact to get, they are all part of the same exhibit," Robin answers, ignoring Constantine who had pushed him aside to look at what she'd grabbed.
"Aha! It's here. There we go! Here I am keeping the peace, not that you Justice League every understand the work we put in."
"Hn. Bring the artifacts," was all Batman said before leaving.
"Bring the-" Constantine started turning to look at Robin, but he'd already disappeared.

"Bloody Bats."

Watchtower: Today

Exiting out of the Zeta tube, Constantine following minutes behind with a large plastic box, the three were met with Nightwing, Red Robin, Spoiler and Batgirl.
"Thought you'd guys would need some experts," Spoiler starts, before grabbing the box and opening it. Batgirl is close behind, grabbing two artifacts and disappearing to log and begin researching them. Spoiler goes to follow with the others still in the box, Constantine grumbling behind, "I need one of them, it doesn't belong to the Justice League or you guys, it belongs to some very fancy people, you can't have it!"
"Is she awake?" Batman asks, already walking over to the cells.
Nightwing answers in the negative, so they divert to another room near the cell to regroup.
Retelling what they had found, all were caught up on the other artifacts, research found the other items were a slab, a painting of a man who could make flowers grow as he walked, a stand of sorts, a stick or cylinder, a carving of a hooded figure and some coins all dated to around the year 100 or so.
Robin revealed some of the drawings, and they theorised on what the could be.
"That's clearly the vampire-" Red Robin began,
"The bad one," Batgirl stated, a small smile on the edges of her lips.
"The bad one," he agreed, "and that's the girl in light... And that's a big pointy thing."
"A stake to kill the vampire? Or maybe just a giant toothpick" Spoiler mused, laughing lightly.
"If that's the case it's probably silver, not just any metal," Robin added.
"So that's 3 of the four drawings figured out."
"Expect for any deeper meaning or connection, unless they're just dreams and we've just identified her dreams. Does this mean in the future we have to fight vampires? That's a new one isn't it, I've honestly lost count," Spoiler lamented, "Just this one lef-"she stopped, peering down at the figure in shadows.
"The eldest," Batman spoke up for the fire time, "Nightwing and Robin, nothing to report?"
"Feeling fine."
"I am well."
"With the use of blood, she must have meant blood related. Do we have the other part of the artifact she was holding? I have the bottom half."
"Here," Nightwing rolls it across the table, "hasn't done anything but be a glass sphere- or a crystal ball."
Holding it, nothing happened for Red Robin, and any further musing was cut off by Constantine, "I need those artifacts." He walks up to the table, and seeing the drawings, swears.
"We're going to leave this the bloody thing alone. All of it. Leave it in the dark. Leave them in the dark."
"Them."
"Them, you don't know anything about this Batman, because even though you skulk in your shadows in Gotham and are its dark Knight, you know little of the true monsters in the dark. And we're going to leave it alone. Because our peace is a fragile, strengthened by their safety, do not probe. They live away from humans-
"Humans."
"Humans. And we are good. They are good. But if you start meddling, our monsters will find a way into their world, and there's into ours."
"They need that artefact, and as we cannot promise to keep it safe, it is good that they are asking for it, we can give it to them as a sign of allyship and they never find out it was taken, so I need the carving. Gimmie."
"Constantine." Moving across the table, he grabbed the sphere, "Do you know what this does."
As he brought it closer to in between them, he noticed it start to cloud, darkness and moonlight swirling together, and then.
An image of a teen, a male, with brown hair cut short, parted in the middle, just above his brown eyes. But his chin, his smile, there Bruce Wayne's. And the two moles on the side of his nose was near identical to Thomas Waynes.
His eldest.
And once again, a spark, a spark of recognition flares of that one night years ago. He has her eyes.
"Another one?!"

Chapter Text

Silence stood in the moonlight and stars.

The image grew, clouding around Batman and Constantine. Batman rolled the sphere into the centre of the table. The shadows became clouds, rising above, moonlight fighting to pierce the thick smoky clouds, it became more difficult to distinguish the outside expanse of space and the room. Below it all, the face shone clear.

A young man. A smile familiar- however, rare- to the Bats.

"Another one?"

The question was asked again, the vigilante's stood in shock surrounding the table.

"Blimely.. Portals, visions. It's a premium crystal globe!" Constantine muttered.

"This is the the future?" Nightwing asks, moving closer to the table.

"It's not," is Batman's answer, "it is likely the present."

"That means-"
"Hm."

"What do we do, any ideas?" Red Robin asks, turning to Constantine.
"It took your blood Bats, and seemed to answer when you asked it... try asking it something I don't bloody know. Anyway I'm on a time crunch, gotta contact some people regarding their carving," he starts, reaching to grab the artefact from the box to stuff in his coat, but Batgirl moves it away from him before he touches it, pushing further away towards Spoiler.

"Bring them here, maybe they'll know more. It all came from the same place," Spoiler states, no room for challenging, Batgirl nodding in support.

"What part about not digging do you not understand? You'll get us in deep shit, all of us. They're handling it, been handling since," he gestures to the artefacts, "the dawn of time. We aren't going to go in and bulldoze their entire government structure."

"They have a government?" Red Robin interrupts.

"And a Queen, and royal families. Leave them the bloody well alone. No digging."

"So bring them here, they can talk with us and we can gather information. If we find it sufficient, and they have been able to stay removed from human society for so long, it makes no sense for us to to intervene," Robin answers.

"You ain't ever going to leave it be."

"Cross our hearts. Won't start any diplomatic incidents." Nightwing says, miming the action across his chest, "so we're meeting their Queen?"

"No way, it'll be some Guardians, the Queen is not interested in the artefact, a school is"

"A school."

"Yeah it has historical reference, good for art history or something. Don't care, didn't ask," Constantine stressed. He fished out a phone and started dialing. It took two rings for the person to answer, and when they did, Constantine informed him he had the artefact. Before he spoke again, the simple sounds of music informed the others he was on hold, but when the music stopped, the Vigilantes could just make out the sound of a receptionist or someone talking,
"St Vladimir's Academy, what can we help you with this afternoon," a male voice sounded, a vaguely Slavic or so accent heard through the phone speaker.

"Its morning in Europe."

"Hello, I'm trying to set up a meeting time for the artefact you requested, got a safe location" Constantine spoke gesturing to the watchtower, even though they couldn't see it, "and a very convenient form of travel, almost instantaneous, so we need a when and a general location."

He was redirected, and this time a female voice rang through. The vigilantes moved silently closer, but could still only make out a few words.

"Guardian....We are..Tavascan, Spain."

Constantine snaps his finger, repeating the location, and Batman, sending a flat look, moves over to the console, searching for Zetas in Spain. Robin pulls up Tavascan and they compare the distances to find the closest Zeta.
Batman pulls up Toulouse, France, and the specific address of the Zeta tube: a back office to an empty building, with Constantine relaying it to this Guardian Petrov.

"That'll... 4 hours."

"We'll meet you there, transport you the final few minutes," he hangs up and turns to leave, "the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can leave."

St Vladimir's Academy:

It was late in the afternoon when Guardian Petrov had a phone call from the front office regarding the human retrieving the artefact Mr Nagy wanted for Slavic Arts. It was a short phone call, an impatient British accent who gave her the location, an office around 4 hours away.

Getting off the phone, Alberta Petrov called in Dimitri Belikov. Her office was a simple one, with all the necessities she required and little else. On one of her back shelves, several child drawings stood. She sat down, cracking her neck, silently waiting for the young Guardian.

Having only graduated 3 years ago, at 20 years of age, Dimitri Belikov was a terrifying young Guardian, with six Strigoi kills to his name. It was only in the summer last year, following his charge Ivan Zeklos's death, that he was considered for the role of Lissa Dragomir's Guardian, ordered to protect her.

But she was missing. Has been for the past 2 and a bit years, when her and her best friend Novice Hathaway ran away.

So Dimitri Belikov's mission- though his main goal is supposed to be her protection- was currently just to find her, and bring her back to St Vladimir's, alongside the young dhampir.

It was Hathaway's Birthday tomorrow- 17.

Guardian Petrov was deeply worried and concerned for the Lissa's safety, but a huge part of her was also worried for the young lady Dragomir's best friend. As a ward of the school- raised full time since she was four years old- Petrov had been a huge part of young Hathaway's life. As was the majority of the school guardians, they'd watch them grow up, start training, following them around like a duckling, curious and eager to learn anything exiting.

But then the Dragomir tragedy, where Vasilissa became the last Dragomir and the young novice changed. Became more loud, less controlled, started partying more. The incident where she'd trash a Moroi dorm came to mind. She became more inpatient, less willing to sit.

But she was still her, still fiercely protective of Lissa- becoming more protective day after day. Such raw potential, but so undisciplined.

She should have done more. Perhaps they wouldn't have left.

"Guardian Petrov," Guardian Belikov took that moment to enter, steps silent on the hardwood floor. He stood to attention, standing tall, like a tight-stringed bow.

"The alchemists asked a hero to obtain the item, due to it being in their museum. They asked to meet in Toulouse. We're leaving."

"Understood."
His voice had a hint of a Russian accent as he followed dutifully behind her.

Guardian Belikov was intrigued, though he had been trained on the waiting game that is being a Guardian, being assigned to a charge not present resulted in him being a school guardian, his life routine with rare interruptions regarding false leads and dead ends to the whereabouts of the missing girls. Getting to go on a trip- even a retrieval trip- was a welcome break to the monotony of school Guardian.

The Watchtower:

Four hours was both too little and too much time for the vigilantes. Batman kept staring at the face projected in the Watchtowers room.

Constantine had left moments after the phone call ended, his tan coat flaring out behind him as he grumbled and left to a Zeta so he could have a smoke.

He'd be back before the 'Guardians' arrived.

An entire hidden world. It wasn't the first time the vigilantes had learnt of a world that was removed from society; Atlantis; Themyscira. But they are isolated, not amongst the human world.

How close have they been to meeting him? The young man kept staring from the crystal ball, silent, frozen, revealing nothing to Batman.
"Try asking something B," Nightwing says coming closer to Batman, "A location, age, about them, their life?"

Batman stood silently for a moment, his face impassive, but then he steps forward closer to the table. He clears his throat and, as though the words were stuck in his throat, valiantly trying not to leave, he hesitates.
"Who is this?"

"That's the first thing you ask-" Robin starts, rolling his eyes, but then the smoke starts moving.

The projection seems to zoom out, the face moving up to reveal the body of the male, wearing green cargo trousers with a white button up shirt rolled to the elbows, a. silver bracelet chain is on his wrist, with a green oval in the centre, and another silver bracelet, this one an Italian charm bracelet sitting below it. A backpack comes into focus, plain, black, the top of the backpack being in his hands grasp by his side. The clothes and backpack seem cheap, having been mended visibly in several areas, but he is smiling and seems confident, shoulders back, chin up.

"Oracle," Batman starts, and the tell tale sounds of a keyboard fill the comms.

"Everything ok? We're good in Gotham. Is the world ending?" Her voice is dry in sarcasm, "And if it is, do you need any back up or have you got it?"

"Can you do a scan to see if there is a match to the image from our masks?" Red robin interrupts, moving to face the projection head on.

"There's no image, just a blurry mass of colours, is it supposed to be abstract? I'm not that good. But let me try something."

"It's magic," Batgirl states.

Behind her, Robin leaves the room, returning quickly with a pad of paper and a pencil. He starts drawing the projection, moving to sit at the table looking at the young man. Nightwing moves to a computer on the side, glancing back up at the image before starting to create a photo-fit.

"Are we expecting to be able to find him, if he lives in an isolated society?" Red Robin asks.

"Do they have social media, do they use our social media?" Spoiler questions, "I mean, are we glancing over the fact they aren't human? Like father like son I suppose."

"Hey!" "Ouch."
Nightwing and Red Robin say at the same time, Red's head whipping round to look at the Nightwing before looking back at Spoiler.

Batman is silent, still staring at the floating male.

"I've finished a basic sketch. Oracle?" Robin breaks the silence, putting down the pencil, "if we cannot rely on being able to record the ...crystal images.. we'll have to rely on constructions."

"Yeah I've finished the photo-fit, sending it to you now," Nightwing looks up, "You should ask another question B."

"Maybe one with more specifics, Father."

"Where does... he live?" he words were cautious, even though it is monotone, the pause betrays how unsure Batman is. He doesn't know what to do.

A couch appears, it is simple a two -maybe three seater- one colour, a brown, old, wit creases producing lighter areas where the sun has bleached it. A carpet appears next, something soft but simple, sitting underneath the couch. The smoke makes the items spin, as if on a turntable, or an animation made to show all angles. As it does, a chair appears, and then a long table, a small TV growing on top of it, the smoke swirls, and colour bleed as if a watercolour. The smoke begins to spread further out, surrounding Robin, who moves back to be able to see the full image clearer, a doorway appears, walls erecting around the living room. The vigilantes move closer together all standing in the hallway area as walls surround them, producing four other door ways, each with a simple wooden door closing off the areas, the doorway to the living area remains open with no door, and peering in a kitchen has grown in the back, with a door to a small balcony to the side.

When the smoke seems to settle down, the vigilantes move to one of the doors and it opens, revealing a bedroom. They enter the bedroom and turn around back towards the hallway to see a bathroom door on the same wall. They backtrack into the hallway and split off; Nightwing and Red Robin going to the closest door, "it's another bathroom," and Spoiler and Batgirl moving to the door next to it "a bedroom."

Robin and Batman move back to the living and kitchen area, Robin turning over to the next page and starting a sketch. Batman search the house, the dishes clean and drying on the side. There's a desk in the corner near the balcony, which seems to be very small, with only enough room to put a drying rack on, a drying rack, which seems to be drying t-shirts, cargo workman trousers, as well as jeans and dresses. The desk has a container full of sewing threads and a tub of sewing needles, a pair of jeans resting on the side, which looks to be in the middle of being hemmed, the waist already been taken in.

Robin steps closer to look out at the balcony, quickly sketching it out, before moving back into the hallway, the sound of paper rustling. Batman looks around the room again, stepping closer to the fridge. It seems sparse, with several plastic containers of prepped food filling in two of the shelves, but little else there. A water bottle sat next to the fridge, green.

Looking out to the hallway it seems empty, with no decorations or paintings. There is a dish by the door, with a set of keys in it. There is only one key on the chain, but it has two charms on it, one a cat and another an outline of a dragon.

He moves past Robin and Nightwing, the former moving from the bedroom left of the kitchen next to the bathroom door to the other bedroom, the latter moving back to the kitchen. Batman goes back towards the bedroom, barely glancing at the open door to the bathroom.

The room has a window, covered in black out curtains, the bed has a light pink cover on it scrunched up to one side, not made. There's a photo of a family on the bedside table, a mother and father with two children, an elder son and a daughter, both blonde. Neither of them him. There was a couple of makeup products on the vanity, and another photo taped to the mirror of the young blonde girl, older than in the bedside photo, in a fairy costume, next to them a short brown hair guy next to her in another fairy costume.

"He isn't living alone and I sketched the photo on the vanity. You should look at the other room, I think it's his." Robin says, the notepad he had been drawing in has more pages folded over the front than before.

Batman thanks Robin and moves back out of the room, peering quickly into the bathroom shows a toothbrush, a towel on the floor, and a towel folded on the side. Neither matched. Going over to the other bedroom, Batman hesitates before entering, the door mist in front of him.

Entering was unclimactic, the room was bareboned. The bedsheets were green, there was a desk of drawers on the one wall, and an end table next to the bed. A charger was plugged in underneath the table it's wire snaking up onto the bed. The bed sheets weren't made, but instead of being scrunched to the side it was folded over. There were no photos of friends, no photos of family. It didn't seem deliberate, just as if he had no one, or had more important things to care about. The few hints of personality that bled through showed so little.

Batman wanted to know more. How long ago was that one night stand? 17-18 years ago. That long. Doves voice sharply rings through him, 'Destined for suffering'. He's missed so much. What is he destined for? Has it happened already? Will it happen soon?

There's no answers to the questions, so little information. But the crystal ball gives them a chance to know him.

At least he doesn't have blue eyes or black hair.

Chapter Text

Batman walks back into the living room to see the other have gathered. They are sitting at the table- the watercolour smokey furniture faded into nothing when in contact with any of the Gotham vigilantes.

They are collecting all their evidence and are trying their best to puzzle together the life of the newest Wayne child. It's not a lot. Once Batman takes a seat, the smokey apartment seems to fade further, becoming more transparent in the background, and the conversation moves from what they have to what questions Batman should ask the crystal next.

"We have no clue if it can only see the present, or if it can see the future or past as well. Batman, do you know how old they are," Red Robin asks turning to Batman.

"Just less than 18 years ago."

"They," Spoiler goes gesturing to the drawing pad, "seem to be around that age, so we can go with this is the present."

"We've only got an hour until they are due. Do you remember her name?" Red Robin continues.

Silence meets him.

"Really Father?" Robin gripes, sending an unimpressed look at Batman. Even with half his face covered you could tell he was raising an eyebrow.

"Robin-"

"Do you remember anything odd about her, anything....inhuman?"

"No. This is irrelevant. If they are isolated from.....humans it is unlikely there will be a lot of evidence of their existence, especially if they are working with humans to stay hidden," he reaches for the drawing pad and Robin passes over to him.

Batman starts ripping the pages to spread them out, the drawing of the boy, another of the living room, each bedroom, the drawings of the photos, and a final floorplan of the entire apartment. He nods to Robin, who nods back. Oracle's voice filters through,
"There's no information I can find of this kid, but there is hundreds of people who match his description, is there any further detail Batman?"

"No."

"Keep me updated then, Oracle out."

The table once again was lulled into silence until Spoiler looks impatiently at Batman and then to the crystal, "The only way we're getting any more information is from the crystal, unless you have any other ideas?"

"Who is the blonde girl in the photos?" his voice is gravelly, but weathered down, weary. As he asks, the crystal answers, and the smoke comes alive to answer.

It retreats from the room, the room reverting to its clean previous room, the outside stars and the spinning earth becoming visible once again. It instead moves to crawl on top of itself, tightening to form a young blond woman. She is slim, taller than the male, straight pale blond hair falling down her back with jade green eyes. But then she changes to a younger girl, the same eyes and face just younger, and then became younger again, "stop," Batman orders, and the image stills.

The sounds of pencil starts in the background. She seems to be carefree, laughing at something not visible. Batman stares at the young girl, "she seems to be the same age as in the photo with the family. Same colour eyes."

"I'm done."

Batman asks the crystal to begin again, as the smoke is called to action, as the young girl seems to grow up before stopping. She seems to be smiling cleanly, her face distorted into an image of joy and civility, but her shoulders are hunched, the eyes dull.

"Unhappy. Pretending. Trying to make someone proud." Batgirl spoke out.

"She looks to be a young teen-"

"Done."

The crystal swarms again at Batman's request and the final- the original image- is remade again. She seems to be at ease again, shoulders relaxed. Not naive like when she was younger, but free. Comfortable. Safe. She seems more confident than before.

"How does she know...him?" is the next question, and the smoke splits into two creating the two teens. They are talking, walking next to each other, though the smoke stays in the same spot, and their laughing, before going into a hug. And then seeming to exaggerate they turn outwards and say something. No sound is coming out of the smoke, but their lips are visible, and the smoke is looping.

The vigilantes lean forward to try to read their lips.

Best......friends......forever!

They seem to be mocking something, but they are pointing to one another, and are joyful, with him throwing his head out to laugh.

"He looks like you. That's your laugh, you know, when you laugh."

It's a small observation, one that hadn't gone unnoticed by Batman. For every new thing he learnt about him- his son- he saw mannerisms reflected, his laugh, his smile, there are slivers of him and his parents mixed in, elements used and refigured. Pieces of a puzzle he'd made his own through years of self-discovery, pieces of personality he had built upon, chiseled down, and mixed with his own unique life.

"They look human," Batman responds, and the crystal swirls, as if in indignation at the accusation. The smoke swirls to reveal the young man jumping off a tall building, and it makes the vigilantes leap forward. He lands roughly, in such a way that if any of them had done so they'd break or at least damage their ankle, but they were unaffected, and continued running. The images were then washed away, swiped to the side, and the girl replaced him, with fangs. It makes the vigilantes stiffen, she's younger again, a young teen, and she is biting a human in the arm, pulling back with crimson red blood stained on her lips and dripping from her fangs.

"Vampires."

The crimson and sharp canine teeth stood out on her pale face, like blood on snow. She smiled, standing up and walking away, the smoke fading back into quiet fog and settling on the table licking at the sitting hero's.

"So that's what good vampire means," Nightwing says slight disbelief lacing his laugh, looking over at Batman and laughing into his hand.

"Did she sparkle?" is Spoiler's question, that Batman did not dignify with a response.

"So they are both vampires," Batman examined, but the fog whipped at him and the images of his son repeat. "He is not a vampire," he probes, and the fog retreats, curling in on itself in a feline like manner.

"So we figured out how we can communicate with this crystal, that is useful." Robin says, head lifting as he rips out a final drawing of the two friends. It is pushed into the pile, the fog searching the papers curiously before seeming to perch upon it.

"It's time."

The vigilantes move, Batman reaching out to the crystal and placing it into his utility belt. The smoke tucks itself back into the crystal, a small amount of mist gathering in the pocket, peeking out of the belt slightly, self contained, curious. Robin moved to stack the papers together, leaving the majority of the table clear. Moving towards the Zeta, Toulouse is submitted into the tube and the vigilantes enter, a flash of light disguising their disappearance.

Toulouse, France:

An abandoned back office was not where Guardian Petrov expected to meet the hero. The car drive had been mostly in silence, with conversations regarding training, schedules and the lack of evidence regarding the missing Lady Dragomir and novice.

"There is no evidence. They have disappeared. Any leads had little evidence of having anything to do with the two," Guardian Petrov states.

It was the same conversation they have been having since he was charged with being Vasilissa Dragomir's Guardian. A part of Guardian Petrov was worried that the lack of evidence was revealing of the danger they had probably encountered, but a small part was proud because if they were still alive and ok, then novice Hathaway had done a very good job. Not that they should have left.

But they were already gone, so she could only hope for the best.

The sound of machinery and a glowing light from further into the building put the Guardians on edge, eyes sweeping the area and hands reaching for their stakes. The light was pale gold and the silhouettes of several figures start appearing from around the corner.

As they round the corner, the hero's stop in the face of the two Guardians.

Bodyguards.

Turning the corner, Batman noticed two figures, wearing black trousers and white shirts underneath a black jacket, and was struck with the memory of the bodyguards she had that night, bodyguards they had snuck away from, though in the morning they were outside the door when he left, his tie around his neck, not sparing him any notice.

One was a woman, the other a male. She was shorter than him, with brown hair cropped into a pixie cut slightly peppered in grey. She was older than the male, her face set impassively even when slightly relaxed. She was wearing a leather jacket, with it zipped up halfway.

He was taller, younger. His face was more serious, his hair longer, brown hair going down to his chin. He was wearing a black leather trench coat, one hand on his side, the other resting on his belt inside his jacket, probably closer to a weapon.

Analysing them, his fight or flight responses caused his hair to stand on edge. This close, looking at them so intently, there was something off with them, an uncanny feeling he couldn't chase away. The way the other vigilantes fanned behind him and their slight caution revealed they probably had the same feeling, though Batgirl had little concerns. She stepped closer, past the others to stand next to him.

"Batgirl."

"Petrov. We were expecting a British hero, a magician," her voice was clear and she slightly relaxed, triggering the younger male to follow suit. He did not offer a name.

As if summoned, the golden light went off and Constantine appeared, snuffing out a cigarette and marching forward, "Welcome, follow me, there is no need to drag this out." He turned on his heel and started walking back round the corner waving his hand for the bodyguards to follow. He stopped, turning around "Madam, sir".

They started slowly moving into the building, stopping in front of the vigilantes and waiting for them to move. The slight impasse was broken by Batgirl and Spoiler leaving, knocking the vigilantes to shuffle back into the Zeta. The look the Birds shared revealed that this meeting feels anticlimactic and that they really did not all need to meet them.

"I have questions," Batman asks, as polite as he can be. It stops the two short, Petrov turning to him, "We're limited in what we can tell you, but we follow the rules of the contract that was made. You can ask."

"Ask."

"You can ask." Its the first time he speaks. His voice is slightly Russian, but he seems content to leave it at that. A man of few words. Neither of the two hesitate at the tunnel that seems to end a couple meters in, marching in tandem.

Watchtower:

They walked out the Zeta into space. Space. They could see the Earth spinning below, and the endless expanse of space behind it.

The Guardians are ushered into a meeting room, papers stacked in a haphazard pile. They move to stand to the side, standing near the wall and watching the hero's settle around the table. A silence staring contest begins, neither side in a rush to break the tension.

"The Justice League has little information on you," Batman states, cutting through the stand off.

"Part of the Justice League is aware," is Petrov's clipped answer, with the tall Russian silent. She turns to the blonde magician, who is staring at Batgirl blocking the box of artefacts. It draws Petrov up short, a quirk of her lips at the helpless expression on the man.

"What information can you tell us?" Robin asks, but all the hero's got in response was Petrov clearing her throat and staring at Constantine. The charged silence makes Constantine give up on the staring contest and he huffs, turning to the Bats.

"They are Guardians, dhampirs who devote their lives to the protection of Moroi against the Strigoi. Moroi are similar to vampires, sun hurts, need blood to survive, but they don't turn people, they're born like that. Strigoi are closer to vampires, sun kills, immortal, Moroi blood is the tastiest to them, they can turn people- Moroi, Dhampir or human," at this he pauses, emphasising human.

"Dhampirs," Batman says, because if the boy- his son- is not a Moroi like the girl is, and is definitely not a Strigoi 'the bad vampire', which only leaves-

"Dhampirs; half human, half Moroi, sunlight doesn't do anything to them, don't need blood, stronger, more resilient, than humans, no powers," at this he gestures to the two Guardians, "many Dhampirs go on to become a Guardian."

Red Robin leans forward, "you said they're separated from society, if Dhampirs are half-"

Constantine interrupts, "turns out Dhampirs can also be born from a Dhampir and Moroi. That's all I know, except that they've been live largely separated from human society and they're well hidden," he's impatient now, his top lip scrunching up and his foot tapping, "The artefact is behind Batgirl, you can take it and go, I've got a date with the Devil."

No one can tell if he's joking or not, but Guardian Petrov begins moving forward. Batgirl looks back to Batman, and reading some micro expression's falls back, parting and moving towards an empty chair. Guardian Petrov goes to grab the artefact, but her eyes fall onto the pile of papers- drawings- "Where did this drawing come from?"

Its of the blonde girl, but there's a spark of recognition in the Guardians eyes. She collects the statue, and with her eyes focused on Batman she grabs the paper and holds it up so he can see it. "Where is it from? Who draw this?" She moves to stand in front of him, eyes expecting answers. The young Guardian stands to attention, reading to move forward at the order, or at danger.

"Who is this?" is his response, and guardian Petrov clenches her jaw. She turns to the younger man, and he moves forward grabbing the drawing when in reach. He looks at her, eyebrow quirked. His jaw sets and he faces Batman, standing next to Petrov in support. Even if they're not trying to be intimidating, and with their purposefully relaxed shoulders, hands visible, there's something inhuman about them that sets Batman's hair on the back of his neck stand.

"You have a drawing of a girl you don't know? Where did you find this?" her face is purposefully set like stone, but her eyes betray a slight frantic note.

Batman is frozen. He is unmoving, brain trying to formulate a plan. He didn't think they'd know either of them. The plan was to gather as much information as they could and track them down themselves but-

It's already been 17 or something years.

None of the vigilantes have moved, waiting for Batman's orders, or plan.

But the silence seems too much, and is broken but the fog snaking out of his belt and creating the form of the young woman again.

"What is that?" She steps closer to grab at the young woman but the fog splits, the colours bleeding out around her hand, until she rapidly draws it back and the mist snaps back into shape.

"It is a magical artifact we recovered from a human thief. It's been producing images," Robin speaks, standing up and reaching for the drawings but he doesn't hand them over, instead looking clearly at the two guardians. "What do you mean where did we find the drawing? You obviously seems aware of her identity."

"We don't have her. She'll still be wherever she's supposed to be, safe and sound," Nightwing announces, stretching in his seat.

Guardian Petrov looks towards the Russian, "you're in charge of her."

"Pardon?" Nightwing asks, sitting up.

"He's her Guardian, charged with her protection, he is leading the mission regarding her....retrieval."

The vigilantes stiffen and stare intently at the Guardians.

"This," Guardian Petrov starts hand absently gesturing to the drawing leading the hero's to look at the misty figure, "is Lady Dragomir," the mist just stands there's, frozen in time, it seems to have stopped all movement, waiting.

"She and a Novice have been missing for the last 2 and a half years."

"Missing."

Guardian Petrov hesitates, looking at the life size replica of Vasilissa Dragomir just standing there, older, safe, "they ran away."

Chapter Text

The room erupts into quiet astonishment. Spoiler is turning away, shoulders shaking slightly. Batman is stunned. The vigilantes take a moment to collect themselves.

They ran away.

Batman's brain is rebooting slowly. One thing at a time. Robin passes the papers over to him and he sets them in front of Guardian Petrov. She hasn't looked away from Lady Dragomir, following the image with her eyes as it moves with him. He sets the crystal next to the papers and turns. "It is voice activated. Tell me about the Novice."

"Maybe start with its meaning?" Robin asks, already sitting down.

Petrov shakes off her hesitation and sets her shoulders, her face easily settling into a collected expression, "Novices are dhampirs training to be Guardians. Novice Hathaway is Lady Dragomir's best friend, they ran away together two and a half years ago, we believe Hathaway is responsible," she hesitates, "Lady Dragomir had recently lost her parents and brother in an accident before their disappearance. We don't believe she was taken, we believe she left of her own accord, but it is dangerous for them to be out on their own with the Strigoi."

At the same time, the image of Lady Dragomir shifts, and is replaced by a silhouette of Hathaway, looking as if back lit, features impossible to discern, only a small bit of light outlining them.

"We believe that is- was- her present day, and if so they are safe. Your Novice seems to have been able to keep her safe."

"They've been lucky." Its the first time he's spoken since seeing the drawing. His voice is smooth, confident. With Guardian Petrov's slight nod of her head, the vigilantes dread regarding two missing teens deepen even further.

"At least you can be assured your training is relevant and useful, for him to have been able to prote-

"Him?" Guardian Petrov interrupts Robin.

"Novice Hathaway is a male," Robin answers, and Batman rifles through the papers to grab the image of him, and the image of the two together showing it to the two. The Russian Guardian is already walking away, dialing his phone, and leaving. Red Robin gets up to follow, nodding at Batman as he passes.

"We've been looking for two teenage girls," she's slightly bewildered, taken off guard, she turns to look at Nightwing who's looking at the doorway where the two men had left "he'll be updating our information," moving to look at Batman she asks, "you are sure?"

"Show me Novice Hathaway today." Is his response, directed to the crystal. The smoke had been slowly writhing as time went on, and if waiting for this moment, exploded out in colour. A teenager comes into focus, long blond hair, jade green eyes.

"That's Lady Dragomir."

The smoke does not listen or react to the relieved words of Guardian Petrov and continues on. Next into focus is a young man, brown hair, brown eyes. He's sitting next to Lady Dragomir, but the image does not stop there, it continues to expand, they are at a kitchen countertop, sitting on barstools. The rest of the Watchtower room fades and is replaced by the same apartment from before.

The familiar surroundings makes Guardian Petrov pick up a drawing on the table.

"We believe its their home."

But the scene does not stop there. Laughter fills the room, making all eyes snap to the image. They're laughing. Sound hasn't happened before.

Lady Dragomir is hiding something behind her back. She's giggling. When Hathaway turns for a second to grab his drink, she pounces, wrestling him. They fall behind the counter, making Guardian Petrov move, but the scene spins to show the other side. He had protected her, shielding her head from hitting the counter. His distraction allows her to put what she his hiding onto his head, but the scene spins once more before anyone can identify it.

She emerges from behind the counter and sits down once more, bursting into laughter looking down at him. He sits up and.... It's a birthday hat, "Happy Birthday Will."

"Thank you Liss, the hat definitely does not ruin my look."

He has a British accent. He mock glares at 'Liss' but does not go to remove the hat. The party hat. It's his birthday today. Batman studies the scene, doing his best to find everything he can.

The staring contest between the two is once again broken by their laughing. "You haven't planned a surprise Birthday party have you?"

"Nope, I haven't planned anything. You said you didn't want a party."

"Good, it's not like we know a lot of people that well. How's school going for you? You liking it?"

"Yeah, I like it. Lessons are going well," she's at ease, though she can't look at him without smiling or laughing.

"Ha ha, yes I know, very funny."

The scene stops and loops itself, but Batman continues watching. He's focused on his son, his son who he did not know existed until a few hours ago. His son who is not human, who's been missing for the past two and a half years, who's seventeen years old.

It's been so many years.

How does he make up the years of disconnect?

How does one raise a 'dhampir' child?

It dawns on him how little he knows, about his life, himself....his species.

So much to learn... about his son.

Footsteps tears his eyes away from the video. The Russian guardian returns and the mist retreats back into the crystal.

"We've started searching for the two with the updated information. I should return to lead the search."

"You will return, I'm staying too see what other information we can gather. It makes sense to split up to cover information," as she's speaking she's throwing the keys to the younger, who catches them and walks out with a nod. Nightwing jogs to catch up, ready to input the right location for the Zeta.

Seconds later the sound of the machine powering up filters through the air, the room quiet and dull with the absence of the mist.

"We don't know his name," Nightwing ponders, walking back in looking back to the Zeta.

"You don't," is Guardian Petrov's short reply, her lips upturned, she doesn't explain further, "What else have you managed to collect?"

"...Not much. We only retrieved the artifact today."

"Is there another part of the artef-?", before she can finish the question Red Robin is reaching out, placing the other part in front of her. As he does, he stares at it for a second and laughs, "it's a stand!" He turns the bottom half of the artefact upside down, revealing an inset curve that the crystal ball sits perfectly in. The mist flares out slightly, as if ruffling feathers to get comfortable in its place, before circling the slot it sits in, like a cat settling in for the night, with a slight purring emanating from the crystal.

"Do you have any idea why this.. crystal is attuned with Novice hatha- Will?"

Batman pauses, choosing his words carefully, "Blood."

Guardian Petrov looks at him, hesitating briefly before nodding. It does not go unnoticed.

"Is Hathaway the surname of his mother?" Spoiler leans forward, but at Petrov's hesitance -again- before her answer in the affirmative, she halts in her movements, "you're not telling us something."

She stops her studying of the table, eyes avoiding the vigilantes, and takes a deep breath, "Guardian Hathaway took responsibility for his birth, but he's not related to her, he's related to one of her charges relative," she looks up to stare outside to the stars, "you must understand, it is highly unusual for a Moroi woman to have a dhampir child, especially from such a family, and his father could not raise him-"

"Why not?"

"His blood managed to get onto this, "she gestured to the crystal, "so that means you met him."

Batman doesn't response, and just stares at her to continue.

"He was not a dhampir, was he?"

"You knew."

"We had our suspicions, but. Our job is to protect the Moroi- they come first- why would we run the risk of damaging her reputation? And it keeps him safe. We're separated from the human world for a reason. And it will stay that way."

Noises of disagreement reach her ears and she stares at the vigilantes, "Will's father cannot enter our world, we're isolated from the world for a reason, we live away from humanity."

"When can he meet him?"

At Batman's question, the crystal seems to shake itself awake. A sand timer is produced, a simple silver stand with a clear crystal hourglass. Grey sand fills the top of the hourglass, and only a few grains of sand seem to be falling. The mist smokes a from the timer down to the stand, circling a small cylinder set in the front of the stand. Looking closer, the cylinder forms into an hourglass, mirroring the timer glowing above.

"There's you answer. He'll have to wait until Will is old enough to travel to the human world on his own... when we retrieve them. He'll have to be patient.... and get to know him through this," she's gesturing to the artefact, the colours flaring out as if presenting itself and nodding in agreement.

A notification from her phone rings out. As she's reading it she tells them a car has been sent for her.

The other Guardian must have messaged them to send one out.

She looks up from her phone and stares at Batman, "is there anything else this can tell us that will help us find them?"

Batman repeats the question to the crystal but it just ebbs and flows and the sand in the timer barely moves.

She turns back around as she's leaving, handing out her phone which Nightwing takes to add a number into. "I'll keep you updated." Nightwing nods in response.

She leaves in a flash of light and seems to take all sound with her.

Chapter Text

Daphne Dove awoke to several vigilantes watching her. She grabbed her head, but finding something- or nothing- she laughed in pure relief. Her exclamations of relief litter the cell. She pushes her dirty hair back and keep scrubbing her hands over her face.

"Daphne Dove."

Not even Batman broke her own solace. She ignored his polite but stern attempts to reach her. Wrapped in her own world, her own reprieve, she was impervious to the world, just as the crystal was once it started its images.

"Daphne-"

Why would she care? Or listen to them? The voices, the images, the visions, they're gone. It's the most quiet she's ever felt. Her head has lost the pounding, the pressure. The headaches are gone. She turned to the wall, tears of relief gathering in her eyes as she fell asleep, peacefully.

No dreams.

"I don't think she'll be much help at the moment. She seems exhausted," Nightwing states the obvious, turning away from her to let her rest.

"If she knows anything else, this," Robin says, gesturing to the drawings in his hand, "may be all she knows."

Batman sighs, and moves to leave, his cape flaring out slightly, like shadows clinging to his feet "Let her rest."

He moved back to the Zeta, programming it to the Batcave and entered in moments. As he stepped inside and the light retreated leaving him to the cave and the fluorescent lights, he took off his cowl and shook his head. He barely reacted to the Zeta announcing the arrival of the others, who all in succession removed their masks and hoods.

Nightwing- Dick Grayson, releases a long breath and breaks into a quick chuckle at Batman's exasperation when he turns to look at him. Behind him, Robin- Damian Wayne, raises at eyebrow at his dad.
"Another one, really father?"

"Another one of what?" a voice from deeper in the cave echo's, Red Hood- Jason Todd. He emerges from the shadows carrying several case files, a duffle bag over his shoulder and a cookie in his mouth. Taking Batman's exasperation to be with his presence, he puts on an offended look, "What? I'm taking advantage of all your resources, stealing what I need, Robin hood style."

"Another child- a son."

"What? Adopted a new stray?" at Red Robins- Tim Drakes, rapidly shaking head he pauses, "Wait, it's actually yours? No sculking in the night this time? Kidnapping? I honestly didn't think you'd ever slept with someone, thought this one was just a clone, asexual reproduction, or a test tube baby-."

"Or a summoning circle," Tim pipes up, yelping when Damian throws something at him.

Jason continued, unbothered, gesturing with the hand free from files"-This ones biologically yours, as in a product of you and a woman, going at it?"

"Not a human woman, a 'Moroi'-" Tim corrects, and from behind him Dick makes fangs out of his fingers.

Jason seemed to be in a state of disbelief, eyebrows rising when he notices Dick, and his face started breaking out into one of amusement as he was told all the information they had gathered over the last several hours.

Just as the informal briefing ended, Spoiler and Batgirl rounded the corner, having showered, hair slightly wet and mask free, but in different costumes. Stephanie and Cassandra were laughing as they appeared, and they seemed to be on the phone, with Dick, the closest, able to make out Oracle on the other end. She must be updating them on how Gotham's been.

Looking at the time, Nightwing saw that it was late, but the two were still on call for tonight, and it wasn't too late that Batman, who Dick could see reapplying his cowl, would still be seen prowling for a least a couple of hours.

Before he left, he put the crystal and it's stand onto the side, placing it gently on the flat surface to open a sealed 'glass' case and carefully positioning it before locking it with a fingerprint and a digit code. The mist seems to cascade around the stand and reach the sides of the container, reaching out to explore, before swirling around and focusing back into the crystal. The timer in the stand was still as it was before, moving so slight that a microscope would be needed to see the only sand particle incremental movements.

He stepped away, but his movements were aborted and his feelings betrayed by his eyes moving to look at the statue in his peripheral. It took another ten minutes for the roar of the Batmobile to be heard from down one of Gotham's many tunnels. In that time; Spoiler and Batgirl had moved to the mats to do some light sparring; Red Hood has disappeared up to a higher platform and the light of the Batcomputer casted a glow on the cave walls; and Tim and Damian had moved to the weapons and engineering areas, the sounds of petty bickering filtering through the area.

Dick moved towards the engineering area, avoiding the stairs and hopping the barrier down to the tables. At his arrival, Damian turned moving before Dick can lean on him, causing him to trip, "Ow." Tim's laughter can be heard from above his head, and Dick turns to look up at him before hitting Tim's shin and starting to stand up.

"What's going to happen now, with the newest addition?" Damian asks, turning to lock up his utility belt and weapon. Dick uses Tim to stand to full height pushing him down, though he only stumbles slightly.

"Technically he would be the oldest addition- the first addition" Tim corrected pushing Dick off, "he was born before you," looking over at Dick, "met Bruce".

"Nope, we have enough shit to deal with regarding timelines, not going there," Dicks head is shaking and he leans back slightly, "But I guess we just wait. The world he's from is hidden from us- is like Atlantis, or Themyscira-"

"Or the League of Assassins," Damian interrupts. Dick goes to challenge it, but he and Tim pause, looking at one another and letting his words sink in. Dick sighs and turns to look at the statue and crystal, "We have to wait."

Chapter Text

Several hours later Batman entered a silent cave. He took off his cowl and released a deep sight as he sat down on the chair in front of the Batcomputer. He laid his head onto the cool desk and breathed out again. Deep breath in. Hold for eight. Breath out.

Todays been a lot of new information to gain in several hours.

The last few hours of beating muggers, helping people, and gathering more evidence of a new gang who'd been making waves. Red hood had been looking into it, and Bruce could now add further detail into the files to help his son.... though he still wasn't the best at leaving it be.

The statue was mocking him. He couldn't see it from where he sat, but it was picking at his brain, consuming his thoughts. Pushing the chair back to stand up, he walks over to the case and unlocks it. He cradles the statue as he lifts it up, placing it to the side quickly, moving to the changing rooms. As he left the cave for the night he swiped the statue before entering the elevator up to the manor.

The manor was not as quiet, as Bruce left his study he could hear someone in the kitchen, and could see the light of the fridge. As he passed one of the many sitting rooms he heard the low sounds of the TV and stepped inside. Looking around he saw Tim asleep, leaning off the couch at an odd angle, with Stephanie and Cass sharing the same couch; Cass perched above Tim's legs and Stephanie with them on her lap. Damian was perched an armchair, with Alfred the cat resting on the back of the chair, drawing, graphite smudged on the side of his hand. Sitting on the couch and resting his feet on the table in front of him, not even Dick is watching the TV, instead working on something on his phone which, as Bruce walks in to sit on the other side of the couch, is a puzzle.

Bruce gets little recognition when he enters, with Tim snoring softly, Damian glancing at him, and Cass nodding at him. They sit in comfortable peace for several episodes of some random detective show, before Bruce moves to get more comfortable placing the statue on to the table. It draws Stephanie's eyes and she turns her torso to look at Bruce, exasperated. "How is it possible you have no clue where he is but you're still able to stalk him?" She doesn't bother to keep her voice hushed, and instead he looks expectantly at Bruce, motioning between the statue and him, "go on then."

Everyone looks up at him then, with the exception of Tim who just keeps on snoring softly in the background. Stephanie turns to look at him and shoves his foot, though it doesn't deter him. From next to Bruce, Dick waves a phone around before placing it next to the statue, "The only number is hers."

Bruce stares deadpan at the camp of Bats observing him, but he loses his resolve "What is .....Will doing now?"

The mist shoots out the crystal in sharp lines and circulates its stand. It creates an image of unfocused colours that crowd the walls, until they slowly focus until they reveal outside. Trees and buildings, even objects far in the distance cover the elegant red wallpaper. But's even though you can make out the object, they keep shifting as if scrambling Will's location. It's a grey day, with gusts of winds sporadically attacking his scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. He walking at a brisk pace, the surroundings following his lead, immersing the vigilantes. He's carrying several bags without struggle; two in each hand and a backpack full, with a box outline making the backpack jut out oddly.

At the sound of a car rushing down the street next to Will, Tim's eyes snap open. The car is transparent, and as it passes through the couch and through the three sitting on there, it disappears, reappearing until it turns a corner.

Will isn't affected by the car and continues his journey. He has headphones in but he seems to be able to hear conversations and people walking behind him from an impressive distance. The assumption they had no music playing in them was proven incorrect with him miming along to some song and moving his head, and when he paused his movements at a road crossing he transferred all his bags to one hand to pull out his phone, and skip an add.

"Improved hearing," Cass nods, still perched on Times leg's, even as he twists to sit upright, learning on the armrest. Cass doesn't even shift, still perfectly balanced, whilst Stephanie hits his foot again when he accidently kicks him.

Damian tuts at the two squabbling, whilst Dick snaps his fingers to get their attention. Turning back to the center of the room, to the young man walking up the steps to an apartment. The apartment wasn't in full focus, the sign blurred, but he was clear and he cut into focus as he opened the apartment door. The mist suddenly constricts creating a hallway that his steps could be heard clearly in. The vigilantes move closer, through the wall to be able to see him, and as he goes up the stairs he seems to stay at the same height and the scene moves around him. It creates a nauseating affect, the motion sickness making Bruce and Dick grimace, with Damian averting his eyes. It comes to a stop several flights of metal stairs later, with Will slightly out of breath.

He walks through a hallway making him way to one of 4 doors, the furthest from the stairs but closest to the fire escape. He transfers the bags to one hand to rifle around for the keys, but mutters angrily and transfer them over to the other hand, dropping one on the floor and giving up, sighing heavily and putting the others down, he mutters something under his breath that none of the vigilantes could make out. He grabs his keys and goes to unlock the door awkwardly reaching his hand into a bag to grab to open a box donuts. Grabbing one and holding it with his mouth, he picks up the bags and shuffles the door open.

As he opens the door, he turns to kick it closed, and several figures emerge behind him, making Bruce grip the arm of the couch; but they don't attack and instead the collective voices shout "Happy Birthday!"

Will turns around, and his eyes widen, mouth still holding a donut. He makes some unintelligible sounds and waves his bags, before dropping them and taking the donut out, a bite now missing. He thanks everyone, covering his mouth to be polite, but not stopping his eating of the food. He picks up two bags, Lissa moving forward to grab one, and kicks the other through the hallway to the kitchen, past the crowd of several people who follow behind.

There's a banner on the doorframe, and music starts up from somewhere. Will quickly puts away the food and grabs a bottle of J20 from the side, someone moves to be next to him. They have slightly wavy hair down to their shoulders with gold jewelry, but the details change and warp the longer they stare making it difficult to distinguish truth from fiction, "we did a potluck thingy J-a-C-QKS," gesturing to someone with a bleached buzzcut who waves at them, "brought those drinks, but me and Z--eE brought some cider." The names were garbled and muted making it impossible to discern any name. They raise their bottle before bringing it to their lips and pointing to the pack of 12 they've placed on the island. It makes Bruce clench his hand unconsciously, his head filling with information regarding underage drinking, responsibility and safety.

Will laughs but shakes his head, and Bruce relaxes slightly, but his blood pressure raises again when his friend jokingly boos at him, before bursting out laughing with him. In the background Liss is laughing with J-C_A-ks, and they seem to be playing a game of charades.

Focusing back on Will, Bruce sees them look at Will and knock their shoulder, "You're supposed to be having fun you know, it's your birthday-"

"He's 17-" Bruce interrupts, as if anyone in the apartment could hear him. Their friend became a bit more serious, putting their hand on his shoulder, "you're 19-"

"What!?"

"You are allowed to drink if you want to," but they- and all the vigilantes- catch Will looking past them to Lissa, "I get it. It's respectable. Still gotta find a way to let loose though."

The party seems to decrease in volume, the colours fading slightly as if an aged photograph, as the vigilantes all turn to one another. Dick sates the obvious,"19? You said he was-"

"He is," but Bruce doesn't seem to be interested in investigating it just yet. He kept watching the scene move on, following Will who moved to join Lissa and __A-Q_CKs. His black hair had been pulled back by his hands and he was repeating the movement. "Gel," he remarks absentmindedly.

"That's not important, Bruce," Tim adds, "he's lying about his age, or you're wrong about your maths."

"I'm not wrong. I don't know why he's lying about his age," but as he speaks, the crystal answer's and starts collecting the mist, breaking down the scene and rebuilding it.

Two younger teens come into focus, and the scene is built around them.

Will's scanning the area keeping close to Lissa, who seems....sick. She's paler than the previous visions, and is wearing a large sun hat and sunglasses, but she keeps moving away from the windows, grimacing from the sunlight. They're in a train station and Will's moving them to an information desk to be greeted by a young adult. She's got red hair tied in space buns with a badge pinned on her pressed shirt spelling out 'EMMA'. Looking at the two in front of her, rumpled clothes, with him almost holding her up and smiled in a practiced manner, "You two Gotham arrivals? Heard we got some due from the airport. Where to?"

Will elbows Lissa when she opens her mouth, before nodding at the lady and pointing to somewhere on a list and saying something, the board censored and fuzzy, just some garbed noise and a blurry board.

Emma ask's for their age and he grabs her arm to stop Lissa again. In a weak American accent he points at Lissa, "14," but before he opens his mouth to answer he seems to buffer, and looking at some poster off to the side that swarms into focus:

'ALL GOTHAM TRANSFERS MUST BE 16 TO BE TRAVELLING ALONE'

"-16," smiling stiffly at her. He nods the rest of the time, reaffirming the destination on a board that is illegible to the vigilantes.

"Who's your par- your responsible adult's?" is the next question and even though she asks it as gently as she can, with a gentler smile, something less customer-servicey, Lissa still flinches. He points at himself and it makes her freeze and buffer, before pushing her chair back and grabbing a clipboard, flipping through it miming it to herself as she looks for whatever procedure she has to follow. It is obvious she's never been in the situation before, but she finds what she's looking for and then goes to the draw, grabbing a notepad and ripping off a different looking ticket, "Here, an emancipated ticket, I can't put you as her legal guardian, but you can apply for that later."

Will smiles at that, and it breaks a smile on Lissa's face. He takes the tickets, with clear GOTHAM TRANSFER printed in the corner. As they go to leave Will takes Lissa's bag from her, shouldering it over his left shoulder and wrapping an arm around her as the mist takes them.

The scene abruptly stops and the sound of the early morning filter though the room.

"What a load of coincidence, must be lucky," Dick muses, elbowing Bruce and kicking off the couch, leaving towards the kitchen.

"Clever. Took advantage of the system," Tim refutes, raising his voice at Dicks retreating back.

The Gotham transfer allows for children to travel to other countries with no birth certificate as long as they can prove they're from Gotham. It allows them to move to families that live in other continents. It was established following the destruction of several records that left a lot of homeless children in Gotham," Damian pipes up, phone in hand, reading off something.

Conversation can be heard from the kitchen, Dicks voice muffled but the other voice unintelligible. Two sets of footsteps leave the kitchen, one shuffling and clumsy and the other more practised, and when Dick enters, "Dukes been in the kitchen snacking, apparently his arch nemesis is winning. Finals."

Noise's of disgust sound out from several vigilantes, even as Stephanie calls Tim a drop out and they then start bickering, Cass leaning forward to avoid the pushing before moving away silently and stealing Dicks seat and smiling serenely at his mock outrage and betrayal.

A thud snaps the vigilantes head to the couch, where Tim is sitting on the floor and Stephanie is making fun of him. He pushes his way back to the couch and moves Stephanie's feet from where she stretched out onto his lap.

Bruce grabbed the phone with the contact information to text Guardian Petrov to inform her of the fact he's claiming to be 19, so they are not looking for two teens but an adult and a teen. It's not much but it is an important distinction and he wants to be kept informed. He hates not being allowed to be involved. He considers searching for him anyway, but he was born into a separate world so there's no documents to follow and even if he finds Emma it's been years since they were there the odds she will remember when they went, and the odds that they are still there, is low.

The Guardians are looking for them, and they have their own ways of searching that accounts for the training and the needs of the two. He's missing too much information to be useful in the search, not as the risk of revealing their existence. She want's them returned, and it seems personal. If he keeps communication she is more likely to include him.

He hopes.

He doesn't have much choice otherwise.

The vigilantes start to disperse, leaving to different rooms in the manor as it's too late... or early to travel back home, but Bruce stays rooted on the couch and waits for the vigilantes to leave.

"Should I search for him on my own?"

The mist seems to reach forward to him, moving closer and turning a deep red colour.

"Is that a no?"

The mist stops all movement before in a blink of the eye flashing green, over and over green.

He takes a deep breath, nodding to himself as he grabs the statue and brings it back to his room , standing it on the chest of drawers on the far side of his room and trying to go to bed.

3 MONTHS LATER

Every week Bruce got into a routine of asking for updates. He only received small moments, snapshots, where it seems Will lived glued to Lissa's side. He'd work next door to her school, and when they'd go out -rare and far in between- he'd be by Lissa, relaxed but aware. They seemed to know each other so well he could tell what's she's thinking, passing drinks, food and pens to her without the need for speech.

The statue was tested, and it seems the statue is particular, fussy, only listening to Bruce and sometimes Damian, the theory being it followed the blood, but the statue seems to be alive, being pedantic and stubborn. Taking what they ask literally, or editing out or cutting scenes abruptly. It had made Bruce's stomach drop the first time it occurred, and he set up a watch with the statue for the next several days until it showed a scene of Will studying, with the moon and stars outside watching Will as Bruce was. The statue seemed to want to keep things hidden, protect Will's and -by extension- Lissa's privacy.

When the vigilantes figured out the statues tendency to withhold from the Bat, it made Jason laugh, "seems you can't stalk your newest-"

"First" Tim spoke up, but was ignored.

"child," he finished, before turning to Tim, "you also can't stalk him, and that's supposed to be your special skill."

It set off a banter duel, both insulting the other before they turned to the training mats and started a fight, Tim tackling Jason, who kicked him off, rolling to stand up.

"Oh no. You'll have to," Oracles voice sounds from the Batcomputer, in the background Spoiler and Batgirl could be heard going over some intel for whatever mission they'd planned, and she faked a shudder "talk to him. Good old fashioned detective work, conversation."

Batman's frustrated grunt made her laugh.

3 MORE MONTHS LATER

A notification rings through the green sitting room, and several vigilantes reach for their phones, shaking their heads once found. Bruce grabs the phone from his pocket, the one where'd he had only messaged a handful of times, with measly pockets of information, and picks it up.

"It's Guardian Petrov," shuts up Duke, Tim and Damian from where they are lounging. Bruce opens the message to two sentences:

We have found a lead, a retrieval team has been sent. Will keep you updated.

Chapter Text

It sprung the Bat's into action, moving towards the statue. It was the afternoon for Gotham, a Sunday, and no one was working on something immediate. From behind him, Bruce heard Duke close his textbook with great relief, and making his way towards the Cave behind him. Tim was on his phone, and Damian had jumped over the sofa to catch up to Bruce.

The front door opened, as as Bruce passed, walking to the study, Tim said something and the sounds of Stephanie dropping her bag and Barbara's wheelchair joined the sounds following him. As he started changing the time on the clock and inputting a code and fingerprint, Cass pushed in front of him. He hadn't heard her.

She vaulted over the railing's of the stairs and a small smile broke out, widening slightly when he hears Damian behind him, racing Tim and insulting his agility and speed. He entered the study but waited for Tim to catch up, moving out of the way of Stephanie and Duke who entered unceremoniously. Staring at him, Tim huffed a laugh through his nose before turning to Barbara who still had her bag on her, "messaged Dick and Jason."

"It's unlikely Jason will visit, Drake, and Dick only just finished a mission with the Titans," Damian says moving past into the cave, with Barbara following, and moving over to the lift. Damian started running down the steps, trying to race the elevator, though there was still several seconds between them before he got to the bottom.

Tim had followed, with Bruce at his heels, "I'm curious to see if we can learn more of him, Dick wanted to be kept updated, and Jason won't miss a chance to peeve Bruce off," he shouts down.

They gathered around the statue in one of the training areas, a flat area with no furniture or equipment baring two benches right on the edge, it was decided they'd use here for the visions now to reduce anything interfering with the mist. It was placed in the center and all moved to the benches. Bruce's tongue felt like lead.

Several seconds passed in silence, until Damian huffed and, projecting his voice asked, "What is happening right now with Will?"

Nothing.

Silence stretched over the mats when no mist advanced. Bruce was about to repeat the question, finding his voice, when the sounds of a motorbike could be heard from the caves. A golden light also bathed the far side of the area, and Dick came rushing in just as Jason came into view. He parked his bike next to the Batmobile, and Dick came running over, "Anything?"

"Nothing. Father hasn't asked it yet."

"Come on old man, let's watch Will. If he's anything like the rest of us, it'll be interesting to watch."

Jason beat Dick to the last seat on the bench, and Dick just collapsed on the floor, crossing his legs a bit to far to be normal. Jason stretched, his back resting on the wall, "let's watch our real life Twilight."

"Don't think she sparkles Jason."

Bruce asks the statue over the conversation and once again, there's nothing.

Until-

The scene builds up around them, into a bedroom they'd seen months before. He was sleeping, and seemed relaxed, snoring lightly.

I FELT HER FEAR before I heard her screams.

It brough the vigilantes to silence, confusion radiating from them all. No one had said anything, but there Will's voice was, as clear as day. Dick suggested sleep talking but no one has seen his lips move.

Her nightmare pulsed into me, shaking me out of my own dream, which had had something to do with a beach and talking with some hot guy and sunscreen.

"It's his thoughts," Jason answered the unspoken question, before snorting at the dream.

Images—hers, not mine—tumbled through my mind: fire and blood, the smell of smoke, the twisted metal of a car. The pictures wrapped around me, suffocating me, until some rational part of my brain reminded me that this wasn’t my dream.

Everyone's confusion kept growing.

Will woke up, strands of his short brown hair sticking to my forehead. The vigilantes could hear Lissa screaming from down the hall, even if the mist didn't create. He bolted out of his room, quickly crossing the hallway to her room.
“Liss,” he said, shaking her.
“Liss, wake up.”
Her screams dropped off, replaced by soft whimpers, making the vigilantes relax. "Andre," she moaned. "Oh, God."
He helped her sit up. “Liss, you aren’t there anymore. Wake up.” After a few moments, her eyes fluttered open, and in the dim lighting, I could see a flicker of consciousness start to take over

Her frantic breathing slowed, and she leaned into him, resting her head against Will's shoulder, and he put an arm around her and ran a hand over her hair. “It’s okay,” he told her gently. “Everything’s okay.”

It drew sad smiles from many of the vigilantes. They all knew nightmares were horrible. "He really cares for her."

“I had that dream.” “Yeah. I know.”

We sat like that for several minutes, not saying anything else. When I felt her emotions calm down, I leaned over to the nightstand between our beds and turned on the lamp. It glowed dimly, but neither of us really needed much to see by. Attracted by the light, our neighbours cat, Oscar, leapt up onto the sill of the open window. He gave me a wide berth—animals don’t like dhampirs, for whatever reason, questioning it never led me anywhere and i had more important things right now, Lissa – but he jumped onto the bed and rubbed his head against Lissa, purring softly. Animal’s didn’t have a problem with Moroi, and they all loved Lissa in particular, it was the only reason I accepted when our neighbours, a group of students, asked us to watch him whilst they went out. Smiling, she scratched his chin, and I felt her calm further.

Tim had produced a notebook, noting down the new updates with the mist now apparently able to read Will's thoughts, and also the morsels of information about Moroi and Dhampirs, "Did he say he could feel her emotions? Is that normal?"

They vigilantes remembered what the Guardians had said, they didn't bring it up, and Stephanie posed the idea that it was usual, but Dick challenged it saying the Guardians just said they were friends, and that information would have been included because they know that humans don't have that.

Tim noted it down, followed with several questions and underlining it several times, the others focusing back on the scene.

“When did we last do a feeding?” Will asked, studying her face.

Her fair skin was paler than usual. Dark circles hung under her eyes, and there was an air of frailty about her.

"He's observant about her. Feeding, is that-?" Jason leaned forward, as did Stephanie and the others looked with morbid curiosity, "is she?".

School had been hectic this week, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d given her blood.

"Is that healthy? With blood loss?" Damian asks, but Bruce didn't have an answer. None of them knew what was their cultural norm or of any side affects. The lack of information was staggering, and the unknown terrified Bruce. Their theorising was stopped by Wills voice.

“It’s been like…more than two days, hasn’t it? Three? Why didn’t you say anything?”
Lissa shrugged and wouldn’t meet his eyes, looking over to the side, “you were busy. I didn’t want to—”
“Screw that,” he said, shifting into a better position.

No wonder she seemed so weak. I noticed Oscar, not wanting me any closer, leapt down and returned to the window, where he could watch at a safe distance. “Come on. Let’s do this.” “Will—” “Come on. It’ll make you feel better.” I tilted my head and tossed my hair back, baring my neck.

I saw her hesitate, but the sight of my neck and what it offered proved too powerful. A hungry expression crossed her face, and her lips parted slightly, exposing the fangs she has been keeping hidden whilst we've been living among humans. Those fangs contrasted oddly with the rest of her features. With her pretty face and pale blond hair, she looked more like an angel than a vampire. As her teeth neared my bare skin, I felt my heart race with a mix of fear and anticipation.

"Why?" It was the question of the day, nobody knew enough, even Tim's deep dive and obsession into vampire myths didn't help too much, he couldn't find any stories of two types of vampires, and everything was similar and different that it left him more confused than before.

I always hated feeling the latter, but it was nothing I could help, a weakness I couldn’t shake. Her fangs bit into me, hard, and I cried out at the brief flare of pain. Then it faded, replaced by a wonderful, golden joy that spread through my body. It was better than any of the times I’d been drunk. Better than sex—or so I imagined. It was a blanket of pure, refined pleasure, wrapping me up and promising everything would be right in the world. On and on it went. The chemicals in her saliva triggered an endorphin rush, and I lost track of the world, lost track of who I was. Then, regretfully, it was over.

"It had taken less than a minute", Dick murmured.

They watched as Lissa pulled back and asked if Will was ok. She obviously didn't believe him, even after he told her he just needed to rest, and so she got up to leave to get him something to eat. Will tried to protest but it was awkward and she left before he could get out a sentence.

The buzz from her bite had lessened as soon as she broke the connection, but some of it still lingered in my veins, and I felt a goofy smile cross my lips. Turning my head, I glanced up at Oscar, still sitting in the window. “You don’t know what you’re missing,” I told him. His attention was on something outside. Hunkering down into a crouch, he puffed out his jet-black fur. His tail started twitching. My smile faded, and I forced myself to sit up.

"He should be resting," Cass says, but everyone tenses at Will's reaction to the cat.

The world spun, and I waited for it to right itself before trying to stand. When I managed it, the dizziness set in again and this time refused to leave. Still, I felt okay enough to stumble to the window and peer out with Oscar. He eyed me warily, scooted over a little, and then returned to whatever had held his attention.

The mist moved to allow for the vigilantes to see outside easier. The street was dark and relatively quiet.

It was late, just about the only time when everything started to settle down, at least somewhat. The apartment we'd been rented is in a university town, sitting on a residential street with mismatched buildings.

"Smart, they wouldn't stick out as much surrounded by a load of students at different ages," Jason says, nodding at Will even though he can't hear.

Across the road, a streetlight flickered, nearly ready to burn out. It still cast enough light for me to make out the shapes of cars and buildings. In our own yard, I could see the silhouettes of trees and bushes. And a man watching me.

A small chuckle is heard through the vigilantes when Will jerks back.

A figure stood by a tree in the yard, about thirty feet away, where he could easily see through the window. He was close enough that I probably could have thrown something and hit him. He was certainly close enough that he could have seen what Lissa and I had just done. The shadows covered him so well that even with my heightened sight, I couldn’t make out any of his features, save for his height. He was tall.

"It's the Guardian, the younger one," Damian says filling in those who didn't meet him, and Dick laughs at his joke, "you think he is going to throw something at him?"

He stood there for just a moment, barely discernible, and then stepped back, disappearing into the shadows cast by the trees on the far side of the yard. I was pretty sure I saw someone else move nearby and join him before the blackness swallowed them both. Whoever these figures were, Oscar didn’t like them. Not counting me, he usually got along with most people, growing upset only when someone posed an immediate danger. The guy outside hadn’t done anything threatening to Oscar, but the cat had sensed something, something that put him on edge. Something similar to what he always sensed in me. Icy fear raced through me, almost—but not quite—eradicating the lovely bliss of Lissa’s bite. Backing up from the window, I jerked on a pair of jeans that I found on the floor, nearly falling over in the process.

'Why is he so afraid?' Bruce thinks, whilst also noting how fast Will pieced together the presence of the Guardians.

They watched as he grabbed his coat, Lissa's, their wallets and a backpack already full of something, before going to the kitchen and seeing her rummaging through the refrigerator.

Lissa regarded me with surprise. "You shouldn’t be up.” “We have to go. Now.” Her eyes widened, and then a moment later, understanding clicked in. “Are you…really? Are you sure?” I nodded. I couldn’t explain how I knew for sure. I just did. An idea came to my mind. We left, but I made sure to keep the light on and stay away from the windows with all the curtain's closed.

We went next door, Lissa picking up Oscar, and I banged on the door urgently. Jeremy answered, a calculus book on his table and eyebags, "“What’s wrong?”
“Liss, get his car keys.” He looked back and forth between us, “what are you—” Lissa unhesitatingly walked over to him. Her fear poured into me through our psychic bond,

Everyone was shocked, watching the scene, Guardian Petrov had never mentioned it, and Bruce didn't have a meta gene, if a meta gene even presents in a Dhampir. 'What is that?' they thought.

but there was something else too: her complete faith that I would take care of everything, that we would be safe. Like always, I hoped I was worthy of that kind of trust. She smiled broadly and gazed directly into his eyes. For a moment, Jeremy just stared, still confused, and then I saw the thrall seize him. His eyes glazed over, and he regarded her adoringly.
“We need to borrow your car,” she said in a gentle voice.
“Where are your keys?” He smiled, and I shivered. I had a high resistance to compulsion, but I could still feel its effects when it was directed at another person. That, and I’d been taught my entire life that using it was wrong.

Tim started scribbling into the pad again, whilst Stephanie noted the bond they had. Damian started to think about the cultures of the Moroi, with all of the witnessing Jeremy handing over a set of keys with a large red key chain dangling down.

“Thank you,” said Lissa. “And where is it parked?” “Down the street,” he said dreamily. “At the corner. By Brown.” Four streets away. “Thank you,” she repeated, backing up. “As soon as we leave, I want you to go back to studying. Forget you ever saw us tonight.”

"Smart move." Dick nodded smiling, it was amazing how quick they all started to like the duo, "they'd fit right in."

Jeremy nodded obligingly. I got the impression he would have walked off a cliff for her right then if she’d asked. All humans were susceptible to compulsion, but Jeremy appeared weaker than most. That came in handy right now. “Come on,” I told her. “We’ve got to move.” We stepped outside, heading toward the corner he’d named. I was still dizzy from the bite and kept stumbling, unable to move as quickly as I wanted. Lissa had to catch hold of me a few times to stop me from falling. All the time, that anxiety rushed into me from her mind. I tried my best to ignore it; I had my own fears to deal with. “Will…what are we going to do if they catch us?” she whispered. “They won’t,” I said fiercely.

"Is it bad I'm rooting for their escape," Jason mused, smirking and gesturing to the screen. Bruce was conflicted, he seemed so sure he needed to run away, and that they were a threat, but not even Cass has said anything about not trusting the Guardians, and with the threat of Strigoi.

“I won’t let them.” “But if they’ve found us—” “They found us before. They didn’t catch us then. We’ll just drive over to the train station and go down south. They’ll lose the trail.” I made it sound simple. I always did, even though there was nothing simple about being on the run from the people we’d grown up with. We’d been doing it for years, hiding wherever we could and me doing what we can to help Lissa finish college, me having finished two years earlier with several months of cramming and late nights. Her last year had just started, and living in a university city had seemed safe. We were so close to freedom. She said nothing more, and I felt her faith in me surge up once more. This was the way it had always been between us. I was the one who took action, who made sure things happened—sometimes recklessly so, whatever was necessary.

"Fits. Right. In," Dick emphasises.

She was the more reasonable one, the one who thought things out and researched them extensively before acting. Both styles had their uses, but at the moment, recklessness was called for. We didn’t have time to hesitate. Lissa and I had been best friends ever since kindergarten, when our teacher had paired us together for writing lessons. Forcing five-year-olds to spell Vasilissa Dragomir and other-long-names like Hathaway was beyond cruel, and seeing her get frustrated, we'd- or rather, I-d- responded appropriately, chucking my book at our teacher.

It brought out a few chuckles from the vigilantes, even as they watched the two leave the apartment through the back door and into the gardens.

I'd known- and still know- how to hit a moving target. Lissa and I had been inseparable ever since. “Do you hear that?” she asked suddenly. It took me a few seconds to pick up what her sharper senses already had. Footsteps, moving fast. I grimaced. We had two more blocks to go. Catching hold of her arm I said, "we've got to run for it,”

"She's got stronger senses than he does" Tim whispered under his breath as he jotted it down.

“But you can’t—”  “Run.”  It took every ounce of my willpower not to pass out on the sidewalk. My body didn’t want to run after losing blood or while still metabolizing the effects of her saliva. But I ordered my muscles to stop their bitching and clung to Lissa as our feet pounded against the concrete. Normally I could have outrun her without any extra effort—particularly since she was barefoot—but tonight, she was all that held me upright.  The pursuing footsteps grew louder, closer. Black stars danced before my eyes. Ahead of us, I could make out Jeremy’s green Honda. Oh God, if we could just make it—  Ten feet from the car, a man stepped directly into our path.

"It's him."

We came to a screeching halt, and I jerked Lissa back by her arm. It was him, the guy I’d seen across the street watching me. Under different circumstances—say, when he wasn’t holding up our desperate escape—I would have thought he was hot.

It chokes out a laugh from Stephanie and Dick, breaking the tense moment. They knew he wasn't in danger, but it didn't change the fact they were still unsure why they had run away.

But his hotness was irrelevant now. He was only an obstacle keeping Lissa and me away from the car and our freedom. The footsteps behind us slowed, and I knew our pursuers had caught up. Off to the sides, I detected more movement, more people closing in. God. They’d sent almost a dozen guardians to retrieve us. I couldn’t believe it. The queen herself didn’t travel with that many.

"They've learnt from last time- apparently- they really want her back," Tim says, which makes Bruce frown.
"They release he's that good," Jason rebuts.
'They never said they'd found them.' he realises- gears are turning in his head, but then Damian speaks up,
"she is the last of her family line, it makes sense they would send a show of force to retrieve her," and Bruce stops his line of thought to focus in on the scene in front of him, where Will and Lissa had been surrounded.

Panicked and not entirely in control of my higher reasoning, I acted out of instinct. I pressed up to Lissa, keeping her behind me and away from the man who appeared to be the leader. “Leave her alone,” I growled. “Don’t touch her.”

"Why does he see Guardian's as a threat?" Stephanie's asks, nudging Tim, who'd already started writing it down. "Definitely not human, something's slightly off, I can see it," Jason says, nodding towards Dick.

Even through the mist and not in person, there was something that activated flight or fight. The vigilantes now prepared had little issue in pushing through it, especially with it muted whilst watching it apparently thousands of miles away- England.

He has an English accent. Why wouldn't he go to England? Bruce kicked himself for not thinking of the obvious lead.

But there was somethin about them they couldn't explain, with the only Moroi they'd ever seen, they couldn't learn much, but they looked beautiful, and regal. But the dhampirs has something that seemed odd.

His face was unreadable, but he held out his hands in what was apparently supposed to be some sort of calming gesture, like I was a rabid animal he was planning to sedate.  “I'm not going to—” He took a step forward. Too close.  I attacked him, leaping out in an offensive maneuver I hadn’t used since Lissa and I had run away. The move was stupid, another reaction born of instinct and fear. And it was hopeless. He was a skilled guardian, not a novice who hadn’t finished his training. He also wasn’t weak and on the verge of passing out.  And man, was he fast. I’d forgotten how fast guardians could be, how they could move and strike like cobras.

A wince is heard from Duke as they seen the Guardian knock Will back, his hands slamming into Will and sending him backwards. Jason whistles at the move.

I don’t think he meant to strike that hard—probably just intended to keep me away—but my lack of coordination interfered with my ability to respond. Unable to catch my footing, I started to fall, heading straight toward the sidewalk at a twisted angle, hip-first. It was going to hurt. A lot. Only it didn’t. Just as quickly as he’d blocked me, the man reached out and caught my arm, keeping me upright.

When I’d steadied myself, I noticed he was staring at me—or, more precisely, at my neck. Still disoriented, I didn’t get it right away. Then, slowly, my free hand reached up to the side of my throat and lightly touched the wound Lissa had made earlier. When I pulled my fingers back, I saw slick, dark blood on my skin. Embarrassed, I pulled my dark jacket further up my body, so that it fell over it. I'd brought it for precisely this reason. The guy’s dark eyes lingered on the now-covered bite a moment longer and then met mine.

"Why is he hiding it? She needs blood," Damian asks glaring at him.

I returned his look defiantly and quickly jerked out of his hold. He let me go, though I knew he could have restrained me all night if he’d wanted. Fighting the nauseating dizziness, I backed toward Lissa again, bracing myself for another attack. Suddenly, her hand caught hold of mine. “Will,” she said quietly. “Don’t.”  Her words had no effect on me at first, but calming thoughts gradually began to settle in my mind, coming across through the bond. It wasn’t exactly compulsion—she wouldn’t use that on me—but it was effectual, as was the fact that we were hopelessly outnumbered and outclassed. Even I knew struggling would be pointless.

Tim had turned the page in his notebook, the sound almost violent in the tense silence that had fallen upon the scene in front of them.

The tension left my body, and I sagged in defeat. Sensing my resignation, the man stepped forward, turning his attention to Lissa. His face was calm. He swept her a bow and managed to look graceful doing it, which surprised me considering his height. “My name is Dimitri Belikov,” he said.

"Finally, his name," Dick mock cheers.

I could hear a faint Russian accent. “I’ve come to take you back to St. Vladimir’s Academy, Princess."

Chapter Text

The scene faded as the duo were shuffled into cars, the mist retreating back into the statue. The sand timer had barely moved, but a few more particles had started their descent. Bruce asked the crystal for an update but it didn't answer with a scene, a countdown was created with a small wisp of mist that had stayed out of the crystal, with 6 hours on the clock.

"I guess it doesn't want us to miss the show," Stephanie joked, looking at the time. There was still a bit of time before all vigilantes on shift had to suit up, though Jason and Dick were getting ready to leave.

"We have to find a way to record it- Ow," Dick hissed. The mist had become solid and wacked his hand. Dick reflexively apologised, seeming to quell it. With everyone's eyes on it, it produced the final few seconds of Will and Lissa getting in the car, before stopping it and rewinding it and replaying it.

"I guess it does replays," Duke jokes procrastinating going upstairs, his homework was almost done, but it was waiting. The mist however, wasn't finished and puffed up, bathing the cave in lights.

Like an odd game of charades, the mist split up into two areas, and then in each area produced a different 'image'. One was lots of small dots, with a stick figure going to them individually, having to stop and wait before being allowed to watch the next one. When they looked at the other side, it was a stick figure not focused on the orbs, and instead the small ones accumulated into a larger pile, that the figure could watch all at once.

Stephanie and Barbara eyes lit up with recognition at the same time. "It's giving us options, of how to watch it."

Dick seemed to get it next, "Like whether you watch a show every time when they upload, or wait several episodes and do a binge"

Bruce looked at them all, "that is.. .useful."

"But how you gonna know if you've watched them all? What if you miss something?" Duke asks, and turns to the crystal. It obviously could hear them all and just choose to mainly follow Bruce's orders. In response, it glowed, a light silver colour, "..it gives you a notification, clever."

"So 6 hours is when there's next an update, but if you wait longer the updates could involve several scenes, which decreases the risk of waiting for hours to watch a sixty second scene?" Damian asks, and they all saw it flash green.

Batman grunts, "The scenes can be unpredictable, we cannot stop what we're doing to watch them. By creating a routine, we do not run the risk of danger of leaving Gotham unprotected...or missing anything."

They all planned to make it a weekly occurrence, though with the unpredictable nature of Gotham it was likely it will be more often every-other week. Everyone scattered to get ready for the night, all glancing at the statue before leaving. They wanted to know more, like an itch they can't control, but the mist seemed to take they're conversation as a promise, the mist and countdown leaving, as if its turned itself off or gone to sleep. It probably wouldn't answer until they were all there next week.

NEXT WEEK

They decided to clear out one of the many spare rooms in Wayne manor, hidden away from the front entrance, to watch the statues visions. It produced a much more relaxed and laid back vibe, with soft and comfy armchairs and couches against the one wall. Jason slinked in at the last minute, picking the area closest to the door and with a platter of snacks, that when Dick went to grab one he smacked him away, making him starts fighting for them.

There was a pile of snacks behind him that Duke, Tim and Stephanie had made, with Damian already opening a pack and eating some. It looked like they were settling down for movie night.... where they would watch the real life of another of Bruce's kid.

Is it creepy stalking if a magic crystal is the one showing them?

Tim doesn't think about it too much.

Bruce was nervous. A lot could happen in a week. He didn't know how much they would be shown by the crystal. They would see what happened to Will six hours they last saw him, if it is always showing present visions. He had gotten a message that they'd been successful, but that was all he'd been sent in the last week.

He didn't know if they would message again. Or how he could keep in contact without revealing his identity. He needed to think about it, make a plan. There had to be a cover he could use. But there had been an Arkham breakout, so there was no time to think about it. This would be a nice reprieve.... depending on what's happened.

Bruce took a deep breath, stealing the sound from the others, and asked the statue.

It answered, mist swirling around to create.... a private jet. Lissa was walking onto the plane, pale and nervous but trying not to show it and Will, was being escorted by a guardians keeping him caged and moving him to the back of the plane.

My hatred not withstanding, I had to admit Dimitri Belikov- whoever- was pretty smart. After they’d carted us off to the airport to and onto the Academy’s private jet, he’d taken one look at the two of us whispering and ordered us separated. I passed her my backpack before being wrenched away, it held clothes for her to change into and shoes.

The vigilantes listened to Guardian Belikov "“Five minutes together, and they’ll come up with an escape plan.", and they nodded, laughing slightly. All of them had already thought of at least one way they could attempt to escape, though with Lissa and the guardians were unknowns to them.

Never mind the fact we had been planning escape.  As it was, things didn’t look good for us.

They watched as it sped up, as if on two times speed, with no sound and looking out of the plane window, saw the plane take off.

Once we were in the air, our odds of escape dropped further. But, when we were allowed to walk I saw Lissa ask to go to the bathroom and change. They let her, with a Guardian outside of the door. Good.

"You think he'll jump out of the plane?" Duke asked, but Steph shook her head, "Not unless he's had training, also they'll be over the ocean soon, and Lissa."

Even supposing a miracle occurred and I did manage to take out all ten guardians, we’d sort of have a problem in getting off the plane. I figured they might have parachutes aboard somewhere, but in the unlikely event I’d be able to operate one, there was still that little issue of survival, seeing as we’d probably land somewhere in the ocean, or any unknown place. No, we weren’t getting off this plane until it landed in the remote area of Spain the school inhabits. I’d have to think of something then, something that involved getting past the Academy’s magical wards and ten times as many guardians. Yeah. No problem.

"He did it before," Duke says, staring at Will who was sitting in a seat in the back of the plane looking straight ahead, no emotion on his face.

"He looks like you old man, or Damian," Jason notes, throwing food at Damian who retaliates.

When Lissa got out the bathroom, changed and looking more presentable, she sat at the front with the Russian guy, and her fear sang back to me, pounding inside my head like a hammer. My concern for her cut into my fury. They couldn’t take her back there not to that place. I wondered if Dimitri might have hesitated if he could feel what I did and if he knew what I knew.

The vigilantes leaned forward, the petty small food fight forgotten.

Probably not. He didn’t care.  As it was, her emotions grew so strong that for a moment, I had the disorienting sensation of sitting in her seat—in her skin even. It happened sometimes, and without much warning, she’d pull me right into her head. Dimitri’s tall frame sat beside me, and my hand—her hand—gripped a bottle of water. He leaned forward to pick up something, revealing six tiny symbols tattooed on the back of his neck: molnija marks.

The vigilantes looked at each other for clarification, about anything, but from where they were sitting they could only see Will clearly. And regarding the marks the Guardians never said anything, though Cass did pipe up, "They both had them, they were like lightning marks."

The vigilantes moved to try and see him and saw them, they also can see Lissa, who wasn't doing the worst job of hiding her fear. They had been trained to look for it, and had the added advantage of having Will who was psychically linked.

So many questions.

One for each Strigoi he’d killed. Above them was a twisting line, sort of like a snake, that marked him as a guardian. The promise mark.  Blinking, I fought against her and shifted back into my own head with a grimace. I hated when that happened. Feeling Lissa’s emotions was one thing, but slipping into her was something we both despised. She saw it as an invasion of privacy, so I usually didn’t tell her when it happened. Neither of us could control it. It was another effect of the bond, a bond neither of us fully understood.

"I have too many questions."

Legends existed about psychic links between guardians and their Moroi, but the stories had never mentioned anything like this. We fumbled through it as best we could.

They watched again as the flight sped up, it could have only been an hour at most, the flight between England and Spain is only like three hours. However, before the end of the flight the scene stopped abruptly, and resumed at normal speed.

Guardian Belikov stood up, and walked towards Will, sitting next to him. Stephanie and Barbara laughed slightly when he only looked at him flatly for a second, before turning away to look out the window. Several moments of silence in the plane last. It seemed to be a battle of patience, to see who would say something first.

Bruce saw some of the bat's whisper bets.

Finally, Belikov said “Were you really going to attack all of us?” Will didn’t answer. “Doing that…protecting her like that—it was very brave.” He paused., and Bruce saw several kids pass over snacks and one pass over money to the other. But Belikov wasn't finished talking, “Stupid, but still brave. Why did you even try it?”

Will turned to look at him levelly in his eyes, his face was still impassive, "Because I'm her guardian."

"He was a novice-

"he protected Lissa , that's what you said there job is- their duty, he did it, has been keeping her safe for years," Duke said turning to Bruce. It seemed his kid still had a lot in common with them, even having never been raised or known of them

"Really nature vs nurture," Jason added pausing. "I don't think Will left for fun, or out of anger, I think he really believed Lissa was in danger."

Bruce grunted in response, and was already gripping the phone tightly, 'Why didn't he trust them? Could they?' he thought. So was the other vigilantes.

They watched in silence as Will turned to the window, and figuring out he wasn't going to continue talking, Belikov mentioned the change of clothes being a smart idea, and stood up to return to the front of the jet. When they landed, Will didn't look happy but let the Guardians drive them to.. wherever they were going. Time sped up again, until they came to a gate, and the driver spoke to the guard before getting to pass through.

It made me want to smile a bit, at our driver speaking with guards to verify we weren't Strigoi about to go off on a killing spree, I was tired and it seemed surreal to be back here. But after a minute, they let us pass on through the wards and up to the Academy itself. It was around sunset—the start of the vampiric day—and the campus lay wrapped in shadows.  It looked the same, sprawling and gothic. The Moroi were big on tradition; nothing ever changed with them.

The vigilantes gasped at the large building, with it's almost churchlike architecture, high peaks and stone carvings. There were wrought iron gates wrapping around small gardens and, doorways and arches were dotted around here and there.

After living near a university, I had a new appreciation for just how much this place resembled an old posh university more than a typical college.  We were on the secondary campus, which was divided into lower and upper schools. Each was built around a large open quadrangle decorated with stone paths and enormous, century-old trees. We were going toward the upper school’s quad, which had academic buildings on one side, while dhampirs dormitories and the gym sat opposite. Moroi dorms sat on one of the other ends, and opposite them were the administrative buildings that also served the lower school. Younger students lived on the primary campus, farther to the west.  Around all the campuses was space, space, and more space. We were in a huge forest and protected area in Spain, miles away from any real city. The air felt cool in my lungs and smelled of pine and wet, decaying leaves. Overgrown forests ringed the perimeters of the Academy, and during the day, you could see mountains rising up in the distance.

The vigilantes watches as they walked into the main part of the upper school, and say when Will broke from his guardian and ran up to Belikov. “Hey, Comrade.” it made Dick laugh, though all were curious on if he had a plan, an idea of what he was going to do. He kept walking and wouldn’t look at Will. “You want to talk now? "

“Are you taking us to Kirova?” I asked, slightly impatient but trying not to show it, though i don't think i was that successful.

"Who's that?"

“Headmistress Kirova,” he corrected. On the other side of him, Lissa shot me a look that said, don’t start something, but her hand was trembling and Belikov was turning to her. I needed to distract him.  “Headmistress. Whatever. She’s still a self-righteous old bit—”
My words faded as the guardians led us through a set of doors-straight into the commons. I sighed.

"Why?"
Stephanie finally threw an empty packet at Tim, who was still talking out loud.

Were these people really so cruel? There had to be at least a dozen ways to get to Kirova's office, and they were taking us right through the center of the commons.  And it was breakfast time. At least i had thought to get Lissa to change.
Novice guardians—dhampirs like me—and Moroi sat together, eating and socializing, faces alight with whatever current gossip held the Academy’s attention. When we entered, the loud buzz of conversation stopped instantly, like someone had flipped a switch. Hundreds of sets of eyes swiveled toward us. I returned the stares of my former classmates with a lazy grin, trying to get a sense as to whether things had changed. Nope.

"He seems to be able to read people, and see's peoples plans. I thought Lissa would be more aware of people and power plays, she's the princess," Dick asks, before Duke startles them by laughing, "He's doing a Brucie, look at him."

Didn’t seem like it.

They turn to see him still walking with an easy, confident smile painted on his face as he passes the different tables. He's wearing some crumpled green cargo looking trousers, a black tee-shirt with that says 'Sorry I'm late, I didn't want to come' and a baggy dark brown jacket. His hair was still sticking up and a mess but he was drawing the attention away from Lissa, even if the students didn't realise it, with him stepping in front of her and smiling at everyone.

The vigilantes watched over him barely glance at people before listing different observations, there was only few he glanced at for more than a few seconds, the first was this young woman with her black hair piled high and clean makeup who eyes narrowed at the duos arrival.

Camille Conta still looked like the prim, perfectly groomed girl I remembered, still the self-appointed leader of the Academy’s royal Moroi cliques.

They then saw him look over to a younger girl with glasses and hair in a side pony, looking awkward but craning her head to see what caused the silent response.

Lissa’s near-cousin Natalie watched with wide eyes, as innocent and naïve as before.

Finally, they saw him glance and do a slight double take at a young man who seemed slightly slacked jaw. But he wasn't looking at Will, his eyes were laser focused on Lissa.

"Isn't he holding someone's hand?" Damian asks, turning to Bruce, who had been diligent in observing Will and noting all similarities between Will and him and the others, who slightly nodded in response.

Aaron, Lissa's ex. It was sad, really, because Lissa had never really been all that into him. I think she’d gone out with him simply because it seemed like the expected thing to do. However, what it found most interesting is that he seemed to have found someone new. With plump little cheeks and blond ringlets, she looked like a porcelain doll. A very pissed off and evil porcelain doll. She gripped his hand tightly and shot Lissa a look of such burning hatred that it stunned me.

But the vigilantes noticed he barely reacted on the outside, nothing more than a glance back to their direction once they'd passed.

What the hell was that all about? She was no one I knew. Just a jealous girlfriend, I hoped. I guess most would be pissed too if their guy was watching someone else like that. But I noted her down. I had to stay on alert.

The walk ended quickly, and the vigilantes saw as they entered some office. She was tall and slim, with grey hair and a stern expression, though her eyes gleamed slightly at their entry.

Headmistress Kirova. I honestly had not missed her. I knew her well because I’d spent a lot of time in her office.

Stephanie jumped instinctively out of the way when most of the guardian escorts left through the doorway they were now sitting in, even though they just passed straight through her. Only two stayed; Guardian Petrov and Belikov, and they all noticed when Will relaxed slightly. The two guardians moved to take positions along the wall-

Looking stoic and terrifying, just as their job description required.

and the room moved again, putting them behind Will and Lissa facing Kirova, it was so quick, so sudden, that it flipped their stomachs.

Kirova fixed her angry eyes on us and opened her mouth to begin what would no doubt be a major bitch session. A deep, gentle voice stopped her.  “Vasillisa.”  Startled, I realized there was someone else in the room-

The voice made the vigilantes turn round, though the room moved again to show a full angle of the office, with the vigilantes basically watching through the corner of the wall. He seemed weak and pale, withered, with hands shaking in his pockets.

I hadn’t noticed. Careless for a guardian, even a novice one.  With a great deal of effort, Victor Dashkov rose from a corner chair. PrinceVictor Dashkov.

Lissa sprang up and ran to him, throwing her arms around the mans body, and they could hear her whisper “uncle." They could hear her voice choke, she sounded on the verge of tears and they observed her as she tightened her grip. The man gently patted her back with a small smile before talking calmly and softly to her. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you safe, Vasillisa.” He looked toward Will, still seated, though he has twisted his body to the side to be able to see him, “And you too...."

"Will" I supplied, before nodding back, trying to hide – and probably failing again- to hide how I was feeling. He’d been sick when we left, but this—this was horrible . He was Natalie’s father, only about forty or so, but he looked twice that age. My heart broke watching him. With all the horrible people in the world, it didn’t seem fair that this guy should get a disease that was going to kill him young and ultimately keep him from running for king.

It sobered up the Bat's, Natalie was the young girl they'd seen in the dining space, for her father to be so sick-. It added a layer of understanding to the Moroi, "So they can get sick, they aren't always healthy?" Stephanie asks.

Although not technically her uncle—the Moroi used family terms very loosely, especially the royals—Victor was a close friend of Lissa’s family and had gone out of his way to help her after her parents had died. I liked him; he was the first person I was happy to see here.  Kirova let them have a few more moments and then stiffly drew Lissa back to her seat.

At the same time, the room moved again, with Victor Dashkov blurring out of view and the room moving to center on the desk . It drew slightly nauseous sounds from Jason, Steph and Duke. It seemed as if the mist was trying to find the best place to show everything from, so they could see the important parts.

Time for the lecture. It was a good one—one of Kirova best, which was saying something. She was a master at them. I swear that was the only reason she’d gone into school administration, because I had yet to see any evidence of her actually likingkids.

It broke the sombre news, and made Cass snort. She also laughed again as Kirova started a rant about responsibility, reckless behaviour and self-centredness, A rant that reminded them of rants they'd all received at some point in their life, but she seemed to find something else funny as she kept looking at Will.

…I immediately found myself spacing out, alternatively pondering the logistics of escaping through the window in her office.

It set them off again, small chuckles falling from their lips with Jason miming a cartoon diving action that set Stephanie off renowned.

But when the tirade shifted to me—well, that was when I tuned back in.

Snapping the vigilantes to try to quieten their laughs so they could hear him clearer.

“You, Mr Hathaway, broke the most sacred promise among our kind: the promise of a guardian to protect a Moroi. It is a great trust. A trust that you violated by selfishly taking the princess away from here. The Strigoi would love to finish off the Dragomir;younearly enabled them to do it.” “Will didn’t kidnap me.” Lissa spoke before I could, her voice and face calm, despite her uneasy feelings. “I wanted to go. Don’t blame him.”

“But why did she want to leave?” Dick asked out loud, pointlessly as it was a shared thought within all vigilantes.

At the same time Kirova tsked at them and paced the office behind the desk, hands behind her narrow back. She spoke up trying to use a controlled voice, but the vigilantes – and looking at Will- they can all can hear and see a storm brewing underneath, “Miss Dragomir, you could have been the one who orchestrated the entire plan for all I know, but it was still hisresponsibility to make sure you didn’t carry it out. If he'd done his duty, he would have notified someone. If he’d done his duty, he would have kept you safe.”

Something pushed me to the edge, and I snapped. I did do my duty!” I shouted, jumping up from my chair. Dimitri and Alberta both flinched but left me alone since I wasn’t trying to hit anyone.

Cass tilts her head and frowns, her eyes hadn't left Wills. Bruce notes it down to ask her later, but if she doesn't tell him the odds of her revealing anything is low. Jason laughs, and tries to make a bet on whether he will hit her or not, but nobody's taking it seriously.

Yet. “I did keep her safe! I kept her safe when none ofyou”—I made a sweeping gesture around the room—“could do it. I took her away to protect her. I did what I had to do. You certainly weren’t going to.”

“What happened before they left? Do we know any specifics?” Dick asked looking at Bruce and Tim.
Bruce grunts in response, and he turns back, "Guess not."

Through the bond, I felt Lissa trying to send me calming messages, again urging me not to let anger get the best of me. Too late.  Kirova stared at me, her face blank. “Mr Hathaway, forgive me if I fail to see the logic of how taking her out of a heavily guarded, magically secured environment is protecting her. Unless there’s something you aren’t telling us?”  I fight not to bite my lip, force to keep my face blank. “I see. Well, then. By my estimation, the only reason you left—aside from the novelty of it, no doubt—was to avoid the consequences of that horrible, destructive stunt you pulled just before your disappearance.”  “No, that’s not—”  “And that only makes my decision that much easier. As a Moroi, the princess must continue on here at the Academy for her own safety, but we have no such obligations to you. You will be sent away as soon as possible

They froze at that, and Bruce... was conflicted. If he was sent away, he could find him, especially if he goes to the human world... but

Being kicked out, of his world.. he wouldn't wish that for anyone. At the same time he see's that Damian hasn't moved.

Damian, he was technically estranged from his world, and he's human. Why hadn't he connected it before... twice he's had a kid with someone from a secret society. He couldn't focus on that now. There was only a second of silence before.

My cockiness dried up. “I…what?”  Lissa stood up beside me. “You can’t do that! He's my guardian.”  “He is no such thing, particularly since He isn’t even a guardian at all. He’s still a novice.”  “But my parents—”  “I know what your parents wanted, God rest their souls, but things have changed. Mr Hathaway is expendable. He doesn’t deserve to be a guardian, and He will leave.” I stared at Kirova, unable to believe what I was hearing. “Where are you going to send me? To my mother in Nepal? Did she even know I was gone?

The way he says mother, as if he knows something they don't, snags on the vigilantes attention-
"Do you think he knows?"

Or maybe you’ll send me off to my father?”Her eyes narrowed at the bite in that last word. When I spoke again, my voice was so cold, I barely recognized it.  “Or maybe you’re going to try to send me off to be a blood whore-

"What?"

Try that, and we’ll be gone by the end of the day.” I regret it the moment I say it, but I'm serious, if they try to separate us I'll find Lissa easy- especially with the bond- and we'll disappear. But I shouldn't have- “Mr Hathaway,” she hissed, “you are out of line.” I'm spiralling slightly, Lissa's anxiety pumping into my brain and making me overthink and overanalyze. Focus. “They have a bond.” Dimitri’s low, accented voice broke the heavy tension, and we all turned toward him.

"I kind of forgot they were here.." Dick murmurs, "Like statues." "Finally," Tim mutters over him, ignoring Dick, "the bond."

I think Kirova had forgotten he was there, but I hadn’t. His presence was way too powerful to ignore. He still stood against the wall, looking like some sort of cowboy sentry in that ridiculous long coat of his. He looked at me, not Lissa, his dark eyes staring straight through me. “Will knows what Vasillisa is feeling. Don’t you?”  I at least had the satisfaction of seeing Kirova caught off guard as she glanced between us and Dimitri. “No…that’s impossible. That hasn’t happened in centuries.”  “It’s obvious,” he said. “I suspected as soon as I started watching them.”

"Oooh, he's special special," Duke says, sneakily grabbing a bag of snacks from Jason. They watched as neither Will or Lissa responded, and when Will averted his eyes from Dimitris.

“That is a gift,” murmured Victor from his corner, "a rare and wonderful thing.” “The best guardians always had that bond,” added Dimitri. "In the stories.” Kirova’s outrage returned. “Stories that are centuries old,” she exclaimed. “Surely you aren’t suggesting we let him stay at the Academy after everything he’s done?”  He shrugged, and suddenly looks his age and not some seasoned professional, he has to only be a few years older than me. “He might be wild and disrespectful, but if he has potential—”

"Wild and disrespectable?"

'Wild and disrespectful?' I think and make a noise to interrupt. “Who are you anyway? A school guardian? An investigator? temporary help?” "Guardian Belikov is the princess’s guardian now,” said Kirova. “Her sanctioned guardian.”

"That matches with what they said," Tim recounts, he's writing on post-it notes, sticking them on the floor.

“You got foreign labor to protect Lissa? What did he do to deserve a chicken hunt?”  That was pretty mean of me to say—particularly since most Moroi and their guardians were of Russian or Romanian descent—but the comment seemed cleverer at the time than it really was, and Lissa's heartbeat is only just calming down. And it wasn’t like I was one to talk. I might have been raised in Spain, but I'm pretty sure both my parents were foreign-born. My dhampir mother- the one Kirova was talking about- was Scottish—red-haired, with a ridiculous accent

They're sitting there silent, and Bruce tries not to be jealous or upset that Will has no clue of his existence, that he missed so much.

—and I've been able to piece together that my dad was American. That genetic combination had given me skin that can on bad days be comparable to many Moroi's, along with what I liked to think were pretty cool features, big dark eyes and hair brown and pin straight. I wouldn’t have minded inheriting a bit more height from either of my parents, but we take what we get. An interesting affect of living at St Vladmir's and being a ward meant I had a British accent, a gift from some of my early carers. It was as thick as Guardian Hathaway's (though British to her Scottish), and we didn't look to be that related, but she'd given me the gift of her last name before dropping me off to the School and leaving to guard. I wondered if my dad had a strong American accent?

"Do you think he-" "Shhh, " Damian interrupted, tapping Tim's post it note. Bruce smiled sadly, 'was American' that's it. And he didn't have that strong an accent, he'd work hard to make it more indistinguishable.

Kirova threw her hands up in exasperation and turned to him. “You see? Completely undisciplined! All the psychic bonds andeveryraw potential in the world can’t make up for that. A guardian without discipline is worse than no guardian.”  “So teach him discipline. Classes just started. Put him back in and get him training again.”  “Impossible. he’ll still be hopelessly behind his peers.”  “No, I won’t,” I argued. No one listened to me.  “Then give him extra training sessions,” he said.

They continued on while the vigilantes and the rest of the occupants of the office watched the exchange like it was a Ping-Pong game.

My pride was still hurt over the ease with which Dimitri had tricked us, but it occurred to me that he might very well keep me here with Lissa. Better to stay at this hellhole than be without her. Through our bond, I could feel her trickle of hope. “Who’s going to put in the extra time?” demanded Kirova. “You?” Dimitri’s argument came to an abrupt stop. “Well, that’s not what I—” Kirova crossed her arms with satisfaction. “Yes. That’s what I thought.” Clearly at a loss, he frowned. His eyes flicked toward Lissa and me, and I wondered what he saw. Two pathetic 17 year olds, looking at him with big, pleading eyes? Or two runaway’s who’d broken out of a high-security school and had stayed off the radar of years.

The vigilantes are holding their breathe, though they all collectively breathe when Guardian Belikov seems to steel himself, “Yes,” he said. “I can train Will to help him catch up. I’ll give him extra sessions along with his normal ones.”

“And then what?” retorted Kirova angrily, the vigilantes looking in between them. “He goes unpunished?”

“Find some other way to punish him,” answered Dimitri. “Guardian numbers have gone down too much to risk losing another, especially-

"Of course your kid is still involved in a deadly world, there isn't going to be a normal kid, you aren't ever in a normal situation to collect a common," Jason, chuckles morbidly when Dimitri just trials off.
"They weren't just annoyed, it wasn't just about bringing back the princess, they were concerned about their survival," Tim says-
"Bad vampires," Cass interrupts. But that made them even more concerned, the idea of so many guardians- anyone- dying.

His unspoken words made me shudder, reminding me of my earlier statement about “blood whores.” Few dhampir girls became guardians anymore.  Victor suddenly spoke up from his corner. “I’m inclined to agree with Guardian Belikov. Sending Will away would be a shame, a waste of talent.” Ms. Kirova stared out her window. It was completely black outside. With the Academy’s nocturnal schedule,morningand afternoon were relative terms. That, and they kept the windows tinted to block out excess light. God, it'd be annoying switching back to a nocturnal schedule. When she turned back around, Lissa met her eyes. “Please, Ms. Kirova. Let Will stay.” Oh, Lissa, be careful. Using compulsion on another Moroi was dangerous particularly in front of witnesses. But Lissa was only using a tiny bit, and we needed all the help we could get. Fortunately, no one seemed to realize what was happening. I don’t even know if the compulsion made a difference, but finally, Kirova sighed. “If Mr Hathaway stays, here’s how it will be.” She turned to me sharply, “Your continued enrollment at St. Vladimir’s is strictly probationary. Step out of line once, and you’re gone. You will attend all classes and required trainings for novices your age. You will also train with Guardian Belikov in every spare moment you have—before andafter classes. Other than that, you are banned from all social activities, except meals, and will stay in your dorm. Fail to comply with any of this, and you will be sent…away.” I gave a harsh laugh. “Banned from all social activities? Are you trying to keep us apart?” I nodded toward Lissa.

"That's too much," Bruce speaks up, drawing incredulous looks from Jason and Stephanie and an eyebrow raise from Damian. The others looked but quickly glanced away, aware of their own hypocrisy. Bruce tried to ignore the vigilantes focusing on the scene in front of them. Will spoke up, still standing and looking Kirova in the eye," Afraid we'll run away again?"

“I’m taking precautions. As I’m sure you recall, you were never properly punished for destroying school property. You have a lot to make up for.” Her thin lips tightened into a straight line, and the vigilantes were just able to see Will force his face to stay annoyed. “You are being offered a very generous deal. I suggest you don’t let your attitude endanger it.”

He was going to say something, but he caught Guardians Belikov's gaze and hesitated.

I didn’t know what he was trying to tell me. Looking away from him for the second time during the meeting, I stared at the floor, conscious of Lissa beside me and her own encouragement burning in our bond. At long last, I exhaled and glanced back up at the headmistress.
“Fine. I accept.”

The vigilantes watched as the two were sent straight to class following the meeting. Lissa was led away, and Will watched her go, not seeming to concerned with staying by her side 24/7. He was sent to another office where an old man asked him questions about what classes he'd taken. Bruce smiled proudly after learning he'd taken his GCSE's years ago, getting 7-9's.

I'm glad the bond would allow me to keep reading her emotional temperature, even if they seemed hell bent on keeping us separated. They'd sent me to a guidance counselor, an ancient Moroi guy, one I remembered from before I’d left. I honestly couldn’t believe he was still around. The guy was so freaking old, he should have retired. Or died.

He was given a hastily scrawled out new schedule that he'd taken with little fight, heading out into a hallway.

"What does it say?"

"I'm sitting right next to you I can't see it Dick"

1st Period Advanced Guardian Combat Techniques
2nd Period Bodyguard Theory and Personal Protection 3
3rd Period Weight Training and Conditioning
4th Period Senior Language Arts (Novices )
-Lunch—
5th Period Animal Behavior and Physiology
6th Period Scene Investigation
7th Period Moroi Culture 4
8th Period Slavic Art

He was alone outside of the office for a moment, where he took the chance to sigh deeply. The vigilantes were shocked by how many lessons they had, with Duke hissing with sympathy. Damian grabbed his phone and started to google something.

I’d forgotten how long the Academy’s school day was. Novices and Moroi took separate classes during the first half of the day, which meant I wouldn’t see Lissa until after lunch—if we had any afternoon classes together. Most of them were standard senior classes, so I felt my odds were pretty good. Slavic art struck me as the kind of elective no one signed up for, so hopefully they’d stuck her in there too.

Dimitri and Alberta escorted me to the guardians gym for first period, neither one acknowledging my existence. Walking behind them, I saw how Alberta wore her hair in a short, pixie cut that showed her promise mark and molnijamarks. A lot of female guardians did that.

She and Dimitri didn’t say anything and walked along almost like it was any other day. When we arrived, the reactions of my peers indicated it was anything but. They were in the middle of setting up when we entered the gym, and just like in the commons, all eyes fell on me. I couldn’t decide if I felt like a rock star or a circus freak.

Dick perked up, "Like a new kid in a school,-"
"if you'd previously ran away with the last of a royal line. A totally normal kid experience.," Damian said, dry sarcasm falling out of his lips, he looked up from his phone and added, showing his phone to the others, and adding that some European countries had longer school days.

All right, then. If I was going to be stuck here for a while, I wasn’t going to act afraid of them all anymore. Lissa and I had once held this school’s respect, and it was time to remind everyone of that. Scanning the staring, openmouthed novices, I looked for a familiar face. Most of them were guys, dhampir girls were rarer than they used to be, but I could see Meredith's hair sticking out in a far corner.

The vigilantes followed his eyesight to see one of the only girls setting up, barely glancing at him, focusing on wrestling the mats.

Another caught my eye, and I could barely hold back my grin. “Hey Mason, wipe the drool off your face. If you’re going to think about me naked, do it on your own time.”

That set off the younger vigilantes, watching the red head with hair sticking up everywhere and painting of freckles snapped out of his gaze and give Will and lopsided smile. A few snorts and snickers broke the silence, with many turning back to what they were doing.

He was one of the funniest guys I knew. We’d been good friends back in the day.  “This ismy time, Hathaway. I’m leading today’s session.” “Oh yeah?” I retorted, falling back into the ease of being with my old friends. “Huh. Well, I guess this is a good time to think about me naked, then.”

“It’s always a good a time to think about you naked,” added someone nearby, breaking the tension further, another guy walking up. Bruce frowned, confused on what's happening.

Eddie Castile. Another friend of mine. I spotted in my peripheral when Dimitri shook his head and walked off, muttering something in Russian that didn’t sound complimentary. But as for me…well, just like that, I was one of the novices again. They were an easygoing bunch, less focused on pedigree and politics than the Moroi students.  The class engulfed me, and I found myself laughing and seeing those I’d nearly forgotten about. Everyone wanted to know where we’d been; apparently Lissa and I had become legends.

Tim was running out of sticky notes, many falling around his feet or stuck to the side of the chair, he didn't really need to do it, Bruce had been noting down the information they'd learnt into encrypted files, protected by both the Bat and Oracle. He had two, one for Wills world and the other... about him.

I couldn’t tell them why we’d left, of course, so I offered up a lot of taunts, wouldn’t-you-like-to-knows and several misdirection's and 'slips' that served just as well. The happy reunion lasted a few more minutes before the adult guardian who oversaw the training came over and scolded Mason for neglecting his duties. Still grinning, he barked out orders to everyone, explaining what exercises to start with. Uneasily I realized I didn’t know most of them.  “Come on, Hathaway,” he said, taking my arm. “You can be my partner. Let’s see what you’ve been doing all this time.”

They watched as the room sped up, the lesson going on. Will wasn't that badly skilled, but his technique was lacking, and several of the takedowns had made the vigilantes wince.

An hour later, he had his answer. “Didn't keep up with daily practice, huh?”

They watched Will grunted, drawing a scoff from Dick and a whisper, "Another one." Mason helped will up from the mat. Will grunted again, and Mason seemed to understand him, "“You’d hate me more if I held back.”

Rubbing a spot on my thigh that was going to have a wicked bruise tomorrow I agreed, “Yeah, that’s true,” staggering slightly along as the class put the equipment back. “You actually did okay.”  “I just had my ass handed to me.” I said back deadpan. “Well, of course you did. It’s been what- three of so years. But hey, you’re still walking. That’s something.” He grinned mockingly.  “Did I mention I hate you?”  He flashed me another smile, which quickly faded to something more serious. “Don’t take this the wrong way…I mean, you really are a scrapper, but there’s no way you’ll be able to take your trials in the spring—”  “They’re making me take extra practice sessions,” I explained. Not that it mattered. I planned on getting Lissa and me out of here before these practices really became an issue.

"He's still planning on leaving. We're missing something." Bruce stated

“I’ll be ready.”  “Extra sessions with who?”  “That tall guy. Dimitri.”  Mason stopped walking and stared at me. “You’re putting in extra time with Belikov?”  “Yeah, so what?”  “So the man is a god.”

Chapter Text

“Exaggerate much?” I asked.  “No, I’m serious. I mean, he’s all quiet and antisocial usually, but when he fights…wow. If you think you’re hurting now, you’re going to be dead when he’s done with you.” Great. Something else to improve my day. I elbowed him and went on to second lesson.

But the mist didn't follow, instead breaking down and rebuilding, with Will appearing in the doorway. It's a classroom, with rows and rows of desks, looking more like a university lecture room than a college classroom.

This class covered the essentials of being a bodyguard and was required for all final years. Actually, it was the third in a series that had started years ago. That meant I was behind in this class too, but I hoped protecting Lissa in the real world had given me some insight. Our instructor was Stan Alto, whom we referred to simply as “Stan” behind his back and “Guardian Alto” in formal settings. Or we did. I've missed a lot.

A man came into focus walking into the room ,as around the room and from the doorway students appeared. He was older than Guardian Belikov, but shorter and-
"He looks pissed," Jason whistled.

He always looked pissed off.

Jason laughed.

A look that intensified when he walked into the classroom and saw me sitting there. His eyes widened in mock surprise as he circled the room and came to stand beside my desk. “What’s this? No one told me we had a guest speaker here today. Wilhelm Hathaway. What a privilege! How very generousof you to take time out of your busy schedule and share your knowledge with us.”

"This is not going to end well, especially if he's anything like Damian," Tim says, and at Bruce's and Damian flat unimpressed faces he adds, "Am i wrong?" He's the frame of reference for your genes, Bruce."
Tim rushes to stand up and move back as Damian lunges, though he quickly moves back after grabbing some bags of chips.

I felt my cheeks burning, but in a great show of self-control, I stopped myself from telling him to fuck off. I’m pretty sure my face must have delivered that message, however, because his sneer increased. He gestured for me to stand up.  “Well, come on, come on. Don’t sit there! Come up to the front so you can help me lecture the class.”  I sank into my seat. “You don’t really mean—” The taunting smile dried up. “I meanexactlywhat I say, Hathaway. Go to the front of the class.”  A thick silence enveloped the room. Stan was a scary instructor, and most of the class was too awed to laugh at my disgrace quite yet. Refusing to crack, I strode up to the front of the room and turned to face the class. I gave them a bold look and tossed my hair out of my eyes, earning a few sympathetic smiles from my friends. I then noticed I had a larger audience than expected. A few guardians—including Dimitri—lingered in the back of the room.

"There's a load of guardians at the back," Duke pointed out, pointing to the back of the classroom where several figures stood tall.

Outside the Academy, guardians focused on one-on-one protection. Here, guardians had a lot more people to protect andthey had to train the novices. So rather than follow any one person around, they worked shifts guarding the school as a whole and monitoring classes.  “So, Hathaway,” said Stan cheerfully, strolling back up to the front with me. “Enlighten us about your protective techniques.” My face fell performatively blank. “My…techniques?”  “Of course. Because presumably you must have had some sort of plan the rest of us couldn’t understand when you took an underage Moroi royal out of the Academy and exposed her to constant Strigoi threats.”  It was the Kirova lecture all over again, except with more witnesses. How do i do this right?

'What's his plan?' Bruce wondered, so many different ways to play it, what's his goal?

“We never ran into any Strigoi,” I replied stiffly.  “Obviously,” he said with a snicker. “I already figured that out, seeing as how you’re still alive.”  I'm not dumb, I know I couldn’t have survived an attack by a group of guardians, let alone an actual Strigoi.  When I didn’t say anything, Stan started pacing in front of the class.  “So what’d you do? How’d you make sure she stayed safe? Did you avoid going out at night?”  “Sometimes.” That was true—especially when we’d first run away. We’d relaxed a little after months went by with no attacks. We mostly broke into churches- with Strigoi not being able to enter holy land it was a safe place I could leave Lissa when i had to go out.
“Sometimes,” he repeated in a high-pitched voice, making my answer sound incredibly stupid.

"he was, is a kid," Jason said, with Dick and Damian getting increasingly annoyed. But Stan kept going, “Well then, I suppose you slept during the day and stayed on guard at night.”

“No.”
“No? But that’s one of the first things mentioned in the chapter on solo guarding. Oh wait, you wouldn’t know that because you weren’t here.”

I swallowed back more swear words. “I watched the area whenever we went out,” I said, needing to defend myself. I shouldn't have said anything, but at least i didn't continue going. “Oh? Well that’s something. Did you use Carnegie’s Quadrant Surveillance Method or the Rotational Survey?”  I didn’t say anything.  “Ah. I’m guessing you used the Hathaway Glance-Around-When-You-Remember-To Method.”  “No," I said angrily."

"Playing a part," Cass said, "Brucie" she teases.

“That’s not true. I watched her. She’s still alive, isn’t she?”  He walked back up to me and leaned toward my face. “Because you got lucky.”  “Strigoi aren’t lurking around every corner out there,” I shot back. “It’s not like what we’ve been taught. It’s safer than you guys make it sound.” safer than in here, when taking the proper precautions but i let him think what he wanted “Safer? Safer? We are at war with the Strigoi!” he yelled.

I could smell coffee on his breath, he was so close. “One of them could walk right up to you and snap your pretty little neck before you even noticed him—and he’d barely break a sweat doing it. You might have more speed and strength than a Moroi or a human, but you are nothing, nothing, compared to a Strigoi. They are deadly, and they are powerful. And do you know what makes them more powerful?” I may have taken this too far, but no way was I going to let this jerk make me cry. Looking away from him, I tried to focus on something else. My eyes rested on Dimitri and the other guardians. They were watching my humiliation, stone-faced.

Damian was angry for him.
"He's taken it too far," Bruce said.

“Moroi blood,” Will whispered.

"What?" the vigilantes asked.

"What was that?” asked Stan loudly, “I didn’t catch it.”

Will turned to look him in the eye, "Moroi blood. Moroi blood makes them stronger.”

Stan nodded in satisfaction and took a few steps back, “Yes. It does. It makes them stronger and harder to destroy. They’ll kill and drink from a human or dhampir, but they want Moroi blood more than anything else. They seek it. They’ve turned to the dark side to gain immortality, and they want to do whatever they can to keep that immortality. Desperate Strigoi have attacked Moroi in public. Groups of Strigoi have raided academies exactly like this one. There are Strigoi who have lived for thousands of years and fed off generations of Moroi. They’re almost impossible to kill. And thats why Moroi numbers are dropping."

You could hear a pin drop. A sense of unease and dread filled the room faster than the mist could. "Thats... terrifying." But Stan wasn't even finished, he continued pacing.

"They aren’t strong enough—even with guardians—to protect themselves. Some Moroi don’t even see the point of running anymore and are simply turning Strigoi by choice. And as the Moroi disappear…”  “…so do the dhampirs,” Will finished.  “Well,” he said, licking sprayed spit off his lips. “It looks like you learned something after all. Now we’ll have to see if you can learn enough to pass this class and qualify for your field experience next semester.”

Ouch. I spent the rest of that horrible class—in my seat, thankfully—replaying those last words in my mind.

The class sped up, he was taking notes, but robotically , he wasn't actively paying attention.

The last-year field experience was the best part of a novice’s education. We’d have no classes for half a semester. Instead, we’d each be assigned a Moroi student to guard and follow around. The adult guardians would monitor us and test us with staged attacks and other threats. How a novice passed that field experience was almost as important as all the rest of her grades combined. It could influence which Moroi she got assigned to after graduation. And me? There was only one Moroi I wanted.

The mist broke down the scene as if a theater set, rebuilding with the moon further in the sky. Nothing else was in focus for a few moments, until a hall way was created, though no Will.

b>Two classes later, I finally earned my lunch escape. As I stumbled across campus toward the commons into another hall way, Dimitri fell into step beside me, not looking particularly godlike- “I suppose you saw what happened in Stan’s class?” I asked, not bothering with titles.  “Yes.”  “And you don’t think that was unfair?” “Was he right? Do you think you were fully prepared to protect Vasilisa?”  I looked down at the ground. “I kept her alive,” I mumbled.  “How did you do fighting against your classmates today?”  The question was mean. I didn’t answer and knew I didn’t need to. I’d had another training class after Stan’s, and no doubt Dimitri had watched me get beat up there too.  “If you can’t fight them—” “Yeah, yeah, I know,” I snapped.  He slowed his long stride to match my pain-filled one. “You’re strong and fast by nature. You just need to keep yourself fighting trained. Didn’t you play any sports while you were gone?”  “Sure,” I shrugged. “Now and then.”  “You didn’t join any teams?”  “Too much work. Wasn't enough hours in the day.”  He gave me an exasperated confused look, so I added , "I was working several jobs." He stopped, "you didn't use her inheritance?" I turned around but kept walking, moving out of the way of others, which he noticed to answer offended, "that's her inheritance, and it'd leave a trace."

He looked at me for a moment before catching up in seconds, me turning back around to walk side by side, he hesitated before exhaling, “You’ll never be able to really protect the princess if you don’t hone your skills. You’ll always be lacking.”  “I’ll be able to protect her,” I said fiercely.  “You have no guarantees of being assigned to her, you know—for your field experience or after you graduate.” Dimitri’s voice was low and unapologetic. They hadn’t given me a warm and fuzzy tutor. “No one wants to waste the bond—but no one’s going to give her an inadequate guardian either. If you want to be with her, then you need to work for it. You have your lessons. You have me. Use us or don’t. You’re an ideal choice to guard Vasilisa when you both graduate—if you can prove you’re worthy. I hope you will.”

“Lissa, call her Lissa,” I corrected. She hated her full name, much preferring the Americanized nickname.  He walked away, and I realised I hadn't been making sure my facial expressions matched my feelings.

"He cares about her a lot," Bruce said, not meaning to say it out loud.

"So your kid, B," Dick mouthed. Bruce didn't dignify it with a response.

By now, I’d burned up a lot of time leaving class. Most everyone else had long since sprinted inside the commons for lunch, eager to maximize their social time. I’d almost made it back there myself when I noticed a shadow seconds before a voice under the door’s overhang called to me. “Will?” Peering in the voice’s direction, I caught sight of Victor Dashkov, his kind face smiling at me as he leaned on a cane near the building’s wall. His two guardians stood nearby at a polite distance.  “Mr. Dash-er, Your Highness. Hi.”  I caught myself just in time, having nearly forgotten Moroi royal terms. I hadn’t used them while living among humans.

"How does the royal system work? " Steph asked, "You think there's magic involved?"

Even having been outside the Moroi world it still was ingrained in me. The Moroi chose their rulers from among twelve royal families. The eldest in the family got the title of “prince” or “princess.” Lissa had gotten hers because she was the only one left in her line.

"Thank you," Steph laughed at the odd timing, but Duke shushed her ducking before she could land a hit, taking advantage of Cass having disappeared to take her place.
Focusing back to the conversation between Will and Dahskov they hear Dashkov ask, “How was your first day?”
Will was polite but not personable, “Not over yet."

I tried to think of something conversational.

Setting off a round of giggles and scoffs around the room at his train of thought, Will tried at least, “Are you visiting here for a while?”

Victor didn't seem to mind the awkward attempt, smiling at him “I’ll be leaving this afternoon after I say hello to Natalie. When I heard Vasilisa—and you—had returned, I simply had to come see you.”

I nodded, not sure what else to say. He was more Lissa’s friend than mine.  “I wanted to tell you…” I braced for another lecture. He spoke hesitantly. “I understand the gravity of what you did, but I think Headmistress Kirova failed to acknowledge something. You didkeep Vasilisa safe all this time. That is impressive.”  “Well, it’s not like I faced down Strigoi or anything,” I said.  “But you faced down some things?”  “Not really, some close calls, accidently passed near some Moroi bar that had some Moroi who owned Psi-hounds” The top of my thigh itched.

"What are Psi-hounds? And What does that have to do with his thi-" Damian asked, with everyone trying to move their heads to see them clearer, but the mist didn't seem to want to change the angle, so all they could see was a sliver of the front of Dashkovs face. And most of Will's. Cass had returned with some sandwiches, dropping the silver tray on the floor for all to descend on like vultures.

“Remarkable.” Dashkov said.
“Not really. Avoiding them was pretty easy.” He laughed. “I’ve hunted with them before. They aren’t that easy to evade, not with their powers and intelligence.”

It was true. Psi-hounds were one of many types of magical creatures that wandered the world, creatures that humans never knew about or else didn’t believe they’d really seen. The hounds traveled in packs and shared a sort of psychic communication that made them particularly deadly to their prey—as did the fact that they resembled mutant wolves. “Did you face anything else?”  I shrugged. “I didn't really face them, just heard one several miles away from the bar and ran. But nothing really, maybe little things here and there.” I had to clench my fist to stop myself from scratching my thigh. “Remarkable,” he repeated.

“Lucky, I think. I’m really behind in all this guardian stuff.” I sounded just like Stan now.

“You’re a smart boy. You’ll catch up. And you also have your bond.”  I looked away. My ability to “feel” Lissa had been such a secret for so long, it felt weird to have others know about it.  “The histories are full of stories of guardians who could feel when their charges were in danger,” Victor continued.  “I’ve made a hobby of studying up on it and some of the ancient ways. I’ve heard it’s a tremendous asset.”  “I guess.” I shrugged.What a boring hobby,, though i couldn't really talk, sometimes the oddest things become stuck in my head, worming and rotting and eating away at it.

"That's you! Twins!" Dick shouts, pointing at the screen.

Victor tilted his head, curiosity all over his face. Kirova and the others had had the same look when we’d mentioned our connection, like we were lab rats. “What is it like—if you don’t mind me asking?”

Even from their awkward angle they could see Will fidget subconsciously, “It’s…I don’t know. I just sort of always have this hum of how she feels. Usually it’s just emotions. We can’t send messages or anything.”

I didn’t tell him about slipping into her head. That part of it was hard even for me to understand. “But it doesn’t work the other way? She doesn’t sense you?”  I shook my head, secretly grateful.  His face shone with wonder. “How did it happen?”  “I don’t know,” I said, still glancing away, it wasn't the highest priority “Just started three ish years ago.”
He frowned. “Near the time of the accident?”  Hesitantly, I nodded. The accident was not something I wanted to talk about, that was for sure. Lissa’s memories were bad enough without my own mixing into them. Twisted metal. Coughing. A sensation of hot, then cold, then hot again. Lissa screaming over me, screaming for me to wake up, screaming for her parents and her brother to wake up.

The room grew cold. They didn't realise he would have any memories.

None of them had, only me.  And the doctors said that was a miracle in itself. They said I shouldn’t have survived. Apparently sensing my discomfort, Victor let the moment go and returned to his earlier excitement. I forced my self to hide my emotions better. “I can still barely believe this. It’s been so long since this has happened. If it did happen more often…just think what it could do for the safety of all Moroi. If only others could experience this too. I’ll have to do more research and see if we can replicate it with others.” “Yeah.” I was getting impatient, despite how much I liked him. Natalie rambled a lot, and it was pretty clear which parent she’d inherited that quality from.
Lunch was ticking down, and although Moroi and novices shared afternoon classes, Lissa and I wouldn’t have much time to talk.  “Perhaps we could—” He started coughing, a great, seizing fit that made his whole body shake. His disease, Sandovsky’s Syndrome, took the lungs down with it while dragging the body toward death. I cast an anxious look at his guardians, and one of them stepped forward. “Your Highness,” he said politely, “you need to go inside. It’s too cold out here.”  Victor nodded. “Yes, yes. And I’m sure Will here wants to eat.” He turned to me. “Thank you for speaking to me. I can’t emphasize how much it means to me that Vasilisa is safe—and that you helped with that. I’d promised her father I’d look after her if anything happened to him, and I felt like quite the failure when you left.”  A sinking sensation filled my stomach as I imagined him wracked with guilt and worry over our disappearance, but it quickly sank to the bottom, Lissa came first, and he would just have to deal with it. Until now, I hadn’t really thought about how others might have felt about us leaving.

The group watched as they made their goodbyes, and he was able to leave to go to the inside of the school.

As i entered, I felt Lissa’s anxiety spike and ignoring the pain in my legs, I picked up my pace into the commons.

All the vigilantes leaned forward, dreading the idea of either being in danger, and curious to see if they can finally learn why he's so sure that running is the best plan. Will ran through the area, until running right into her.

She didn’t see me, though. Neither did the people standing with her: Aaron and that doll girl. I stopped and listened, just catching the end of the conversation. The girl leaned toward Lissa, who seemed more stunned than anything else.  “It looks to me like it came from a garage sale. I thought a precious Dragomir would have standards.” Scorn dripped off the word Dragomir.

"What the?"

Nope Grabbing Doll Girl by the shoulder, I jerked her away. She was so light, she stumbled three feet and nearly fell. “She does have standards,” I said, “which is why you’re done talking to her.” We didn't have the entire commons‟ attention this time, thank God, but a few passing people had stopped to stare. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” asked Doll Girl, blue eyes wide and sparkling with fury. Up close now, I was able to get a better look at her. She had the same slim build as most Moroi but not the usual height, which was partly what made her look so young. The tiny purple dress she wore was pretty (i think)—reminding me that I was indeed dressed in thrift-shop wear—but closer inspection, with Lissa's help, led me to think it was a designer knockoff.

I crossed my arms across my chest. “Are you lost,? The elementary school’s over on west campus.” A pink flush spread over her cheeks. “Don’t you ever touch me again. You screw with me, and I’ll screw you right back.”

"Oh man, what an opening that was," Duke said.

I opted for simple brute force, so to speak. “And if you mess with either of us again, I’ll break you in half. If you don’t believe me, go ask Dawn Yarrow about what I did to her arm in ninth grade. You were probably at nap time when it happened.”

"Violent child? He fits right in."

The incident with Dawn hadn’t been one of my finer moments. I honestly hadn’t expected to break any bones when I shoved her into a tree. Still, the incident had given me a dangerous reputation, in addition to my smartass one. The story had gained legendary status, and I liked to imagine that it was still being told around campfires late at night. Judging from the look on this girl’s face, it was.

Just then the group noticed an adult, who by the looks of their outfit was a guardian, had entered the room, and was looking suspiciously at the group. The young girl backed off, taking Aaron’s arm. “Come on,” she said.

“Hey, Aaron,” I said cheerfully, remembering he was there. “Nice to see you again.”  He gave me a quick nod and an uneasy smile, just as the girl dragged him off. Same old Aaron. He might be nice and adorable, but aggressive he was not.  I turned to Lissa. “You okay?” She nodded. “Any idea who I just threatened to beat up?”  “Not a clue.” I started to lead her toward the lunch line, but she shook her head at me. “Gotta go see the feeders.”

Confusion settled on the vigilantes faces again, "One step forward, like several back," Tim muttered.

A funny feeling settled over me. I’d gotten so used to being her primary blood source that the thought of returning to the Moroi’s normal routine seemed strange. In fact, it almost bothered me. It shouldn’t have. Daily feedings were part of a Moroi’s life, something I hadn’t been able to offer her while living on our own. It had been an inconvenient situation, one that left me weak on feeding days and her weak on the days in between. I should have been happy she would get some normality. I forced a smile. “Sure, to the feeding room.”

They walked into the feeding room'. which sat adjacent to the cafeteria, a room that was set up with small cubicles dividing the room’s space in an effort to offer privacy, perhaps. A dark-haired woman greeted them at the entrance and glanced down at her clipboard, flipping through the pages. Finding whatever she needed, she made a few notes and then gestured for Lissa to follow. She gave a puzzled look to Will, but she didn’t stop him from entering.

She led us to one of the cubicles where a plump, middle-aged woman sat leafing through a magazine. She looked up at our approach and smiled. In her eyes, I could see the dreamy, glazed-over look most feeders had. She’d probably neared her quota for the day, judging from how high she appeared to be.  Recognizing Lissa, her smile grew. “Welcome back, Princess.”  The greeter left us, and Lissa sat down in the chair beside the woman. I sensed a feeling of discomfort in her, a little different from my own. This was weird for her too; it had been a long time. The feeder, however, had no such reservations. An eager look crossed her face—the look of a junkie about to get her next fix.  

Jason frowned slightly.

Disgust poured into me. It was an old instinct, one that had been drilled in over the years. Feeders were essential to Moroi life. They were humans who willingly volunteered to be a regular blood source, humans from the fringes of society who gave their lives over to the secret world of the Moroi. They were well cared for and given all the comforts they could need. But at the heart of it, they were drug users, addicts to Moroi saliva and the rush it offered with each bite. The Moroi —and guardians—looked down on this dependency, even though the Moroi couldn’t have survived otherwise unless they took victims by force.

"What the?" The vigilantes were uncomfortable. Tim had stopped writing, looking grossed out.

Hypocrisy at its finest.

Bruce was proud.

The feeder tilted her head, giving Lissa full access to her neck. Her skin there was marked with scars from years of daily bites. The infrequent feedings Lissa and I had done had kept my neck clear; my bite marks never lasted more than a day or so.  Lissa leaned forward, fangs biting into the feeder’s yielding flesh. The woman closed her eyes, making a soft sound of pleasure. I swallowed, watching Lissa drink. I couldn’t see any blood, but I could imagine it. A surge of emotion grew in my chest: longing. Jealousy. I averted my eyes, staring at the floor. Mentally, I scolded myself.  What’s wrong with you? Why should you miss it? You only did it once every other day. You aren’t addicted, not like this. And you don’t want to be. But I couldn’t help myself, couldn’t help the way I felt as I recalled the bliss and rush of a vampire’s bite.

"He did it to protect her," Damian said slowly, realising just how committed he was to protecting her. Bruce was already running through different processes and plans and treatments he could make to help him.

It was only a few minutes, but it still made many of them look away.

Lissa finished and we returned to the commons, moving toward the lunch line. It was short, since we only had fifteen minutes left, and I strolled up and began to load my plate with French fries and some rounded, bite-size objects that looked vaguely like chicken nuggets. Lissa only grabbed a yogurt. Moroi needed food, as dhampirs and humans did, but rarely had an appetite after drinking blood. “So how’d classes go?” I asked.  She shrugged. Her face was bright with color and life now. “Okay. Lots of stares. A lot of stares. Lots of questions about where we were. Whispering.” “Same here,” I said. The attendant checked us out, and we walked toward the tables. I gave Lissa a sidelong glance. “You okay with that? They aren’t bothering you, are they?”  “No—it’s fine.” The emotions coming through the bond contradicted her words. Knowing I could feel that, she tried to change the subject by handing me her class schedule. I looked it over. With the exception of class 6, we had the same afternoon lessons, but. I stopped walking. “Why are you in elemental basics? That’s not a final year class.”  She eyed me. “Because this year we're supposed to take specialized classes.”

"What?" The two fell silent after that, but Will answered, unknowingly.

I recalled that all Moroi wielded elemental magic. It was one of the things that differentiated living vampires from Strigoi, the dead vampires. Moroi viewed magic as a gift. It was part of their souls and connected them to the world.  A long time ago, they had used their magic openly—averting natural disasters and helping with things like food and water production. They didn’t need to do that as much anymore, but the magic was still in their blood. It burned in them and made them want to reach out to the earth and wield their power. Academies like this existed to help Moroi control the magic and learn how to do increasingly complex things with it. Students also had to learn the rules that surrounded magic, rules that had been in place for centuries and were strictly enforced.  All Moroi had a small ability in each element. When they got to be around our age, students “specialized” when one element grew stronger than the others: earth, water, fire, or air. Not specializing was like not going through puberty. And Lissa…well, Lissa hadn’t specialized yet, I touched her arm to reassure her and look her in her eye.  “Is Ms. Carmack still teaching that? What she’d say?”  “She says she’s not worried. She thinks it’ll come.”  “Did you—did you tell her about—” Lissa shook her head. “No. Of course not.”

"What? Tell her what?" Bruce asked worriedly, frustrated at the lack of answers

We let the subject drop. It was one we thought about a lot but rarely spoke of.  We started moving again, scanning the tables as we decided where to sit. A few pairs of eyes looked up at us with blatant curiosity.  “Lissa!” came a nearby voice. Glancing over, we saw Natalie waving at us. Lissa and I exchanged looks. Natalie was sort of Lissa’s cousin in the way Victor was sort of her uncle, but we’d never hung out with her all that much.  Lissa shrugged and headed in that direction. “Why not?”  I followed reluctantly. Natalie was nice but also one of the most uninteresting people I knew. Most royals at the school enjoyed a kind of celebrity status, but Natalie had never fit in with that crowd. She was too plain, too uninterested in the politics of the Academy, and too clueless to really navigate them anyway.  Natalie’s friends eyed us with a quiet curiosity, but she didn’t hold back. She threw her arms around us. Like Lissa, she had jade-green eyes, but her hair was jet black, like Victor’s had been before his disease grayed it.  “You’re back! I knew you would be! Everyone said you were gone forever, but I never believed that. I knew you couldn’t stay away. Why’d you go? There are so many stories about why you left!”

"She's nosy," Damian said.

Lissa and I exchanged glances as Natalie prattled on. “Camille said one of you got pregnant and went off to have an abortion, but I knew that couldn’t be true. Someone else said you went off to hang out with Wills mom, but I figured Ms. Kirova and Daddy wouldn’t have been so upset if you’d turned up there. Did you know we might get to be roommates? I was talking to…”On and on she chatted, flashing her fangs as she spoke. I smiled politely, letting Lissa deal with the onslaught until Natalie asked a dangerous question.

“What’d you do for blood, Lissa?”  The table regarded us questioningly. Lissa froze, but I immediately jumped in, the lie coming effortlessly to my lips.  “Oh, it’s easy. There are a lot of humans who want to do it.”  “Really?” asked one of Natalie’s friends, wide-eyed.  “Yup. You find ‘em at parties and stuff. They’re all looking for a fix from something, and they don’t really get that a vampire’s doing it: most are already so wasted they don’t remember anyway.”

“Not a bad lie. And it’s easy to remember and believe,” Tim nodded approving, as if he could hear.

My already vague details dried up, and I was tired, so I simply shrugged in as cool and confident a way as I could manage. It wasn’t like any of them knew any better. “Like I said, it’s easy. Almost easier than with our own feeders.”  Natalie accepted this and then launched into some other topic. Lissa shot me a grateful look.  Ignoring the conversation again, I took in the old faces, trying to figure out who was hanging out with whom and how power had shifted within the school.

"That seems more Lissa's job, with being royal and all, wouldn't it?" Steph asks, "I don't think he's going to leave her alone, he wants to keep her safe" Duke adds.
Bruce smiles a small smile, seeing so much of himself in him, observing the rogues and traversing the shark tank that is the socialites of Gotham. He watched as Will spotted Mason and smiled at him. Near him, a group of Moroi royals sat, laughing over something and when Will spotted them he cut off Natalie, “Who’s Aaron’s new girlfriend?” “Huh? Oh. Mia Rinaldi.”

Seeing my blank look, she asked, “Don’t you remember her?”  “Should I? Was she here when we left?”  “She’s always been here,” said Natalie. “She’s only a year younger than us.”  I shot a questioning look at Lissa, who only shrugged.  “Why is she so pissed off at us?” I asked. “Neither of us know her.”  “I don’t know,” answered Natalie. “Maybe she’s jealous about Aaron. She wasn’t much of anybody when you guys left. She got really popular really fast. She isn’t royal or anything, but once she started dating Aaron, she—” “Okay, thanks,” I interrupted. “It doesn’t really—” My eyes lifted up from Natalie’s face to Jesse Zeklos’s, he was a royal Moroi, and with the ways so many people find him so hot, he should probably have worn a warning: flammable sign. He met my eyes and grinned.  “Hey Will, welcome back. You still breaking hearts?”  “Are you volunteering?”  His grin widened. “Let’s hang out sometime and find out. If you ever get parole.” Didn't expect that I forgot how much of a flirt I'd made myself out to be.

"He's got a Brucie," Stephanie laughed, as Dick started trying to make a nickname for him, "Bill, Willy, Billy, why couldn't he have an easier name to Brucify?" Steph also started booing at Jesse, throwing snacks at him though the mist just passes through them. Bruce seemed frozen in place, emotionally bluescreening.

He kept walking, and I watched him go, head tilted. Natalie and her friends stared at me in awe. I might not be a god in the Dimitri sense, but with this group, Lissa and I weregods—or at least former gods—of another nature.  “Oh my gawd,” exclaimed one girl. I didn’t remember her name, Emma? Evie?" “That was Jesse”  “Yes,” I said, smiling. “It certainly was.”  “I wish I looked like you,” she added with a sigh.  Their eyes fell on me. Technically, I was half-Moroi, but my looks were human. I’d blended in well with humans during our time away, so much so that I’d barely thought about my appearance at all.

"Dhampir's may look human, but something is off. Though he doesn't seem to have the same effect?" "Hiding," Cass corrects, which made Bruce twitch uncomfortably ,the fact his son isn't human is something he can understand, the fact he is hiding who he is so well to not be clearly noticed, it hits too close to himself. Definitely his kid

I'm not naive, dhampirs were an exotic conquest, a novelty all Moroi guys wanted to “try.” "Ew."  It was ironic that dhampirs had such an allure here, because slender Moroi girls looked very much like the super-skinny runway models so popular in the human world. Most humans could never reach that “ideal” skinniness, just as Moroi girls could never look like me. Everyone wanted what she couldn’t have.

"Thats....sad," Damian said, glaring at Tim who had started writing notes on his phone and had elbowed him. The mist fast forward, with the vigilantes barely able to catch anything, but they were just in classes.

Lissa and I got to sit together in our shared afternoon classes but didn’t do much talking. The stares she’d mentioned certainly did follow us, but I found that the more I talked to people, the more they warmed up. Slowly, gradually, they seemed to remember who we were, and the novelty—though not the intrigue—of our crazy stunt wore off.  Or maybe I should say, they remembered who I was. Because I was the only one talking. Lissa stared straight ahead, listening but neither acknowledging nor participating in my attempts at conversation. I could feel anxiety and sadness pouring out of her. They were leaving the classroom, with Will staring blank faced at anyone who came too close to Lissa as she was packing up and moving through the hall way. “All right,” I told her when classes finally ended. We stood outside the school, and I was fully aware that in doing so, I was already breaking the terms of my agreement with Kirova. “We’re not staying here,” I told her, looking around the campus uneasily. “I’m going to find a way to get us out.”  “You think we could really do it a second time?” Lissa asked quietly.  “Absolutely.” I spoke with certainty.

"Think she could?" Dick asked, looking to see that everyone had already made a bet, he made a noise of offence before getting in on it.

So relieved she couldn’t read my feelings. Escaping the first time had been tricky enough. Doing it again would be a real bitch, with everyone watching us, not that I couldn’t still find a way.  “You really would, wouldn’t you?” She smiled, more to herself than to me, like she’d thought of something funny. “Of course you would. It’s just, well…” She sighed. “I don’t know if we should go. Maybe—maybe we should stay.”  I blinked in astonishment. “What?” Not one of my more eloquent answers, but the best I could manage. I’d never expected this from her.  “I saw you, Will. I saw you talking to the other novices during class, talking about practice. You miss that.”

"Aww" they said, out of the care they had for each other.

“It’s not worth it,” I argued. “Not if…not if you…” I couldn’t finish, but she was right. She’d read me. I had missed the other novices. Even some of the Moroi. But there was more to it than just that. The weight of my inexperience, how much I’d fallen behind, had been growing all day.

They watched, agreeing with her, anytime someone had to be benched, they felt the difference in experience. And if they had to leave Gotham for more than a couple of months, they were so out of touch with the rogue gallery, catching up was a bitch. Lissa smiled, a bit forcefully, but it softened with with Wills steady gaze, "it might be better, I haven't had as many...you know, things happening in a while. I haven’t felt like anyone was following or watching us.”

"What!?"

I didn’t say anything to that. Before we’d left the Academy, she’d always felt like someone was following her, like she was being hunted.

"Hunted." Bruce repeats. They wanted to leave to do something, but if they left they'd probably miss something. And they still didn't know enough.

I’d never seen evidence to support that, but I had once heard one of our teachers go on and on about the same sort of thing. Ms. Karp. She’d been a pretty Moroi, with deep auburn air and high cheekbones. And I was pretty sure she’d been crazy.  “You never know who’s watching,” she used to say, walking briskly around the classroom as she shut all the blinds. “Or who’s following you. Best to be safe. Best to always be safe.” We’d snickered amongst ourselves because that’s what students do around eccentric and paranoid teachers. The thought of Lissa acting like her bothered me.  “What’s wrong?” Lissa asked, noticing that I was lost in thought.  “Huh? Nothing. Just thinking.” I sighed, trying to balance my own wants with what was best for her. Words I didn’t say very much.

Will gently grabbed her arm, “I want you to stay away from the royals. Not like Natalie or anything but you know, the others. The power players. Camille. Carly. That group.” Lissa's amusement turned to astonishment, and stepping back slightly “Are you serious?”   “Sure. You never liked them anyway.” “You did.”  “No. Not really. I liked what they could offer. All the parties and stuff.”

I didn't enjoy the parties that much either, not Moroi parties. They were too loud and I had to play a part, but I didn't tell her that. The parties were fun enough, and going let me keep an eye on Lissa and makes sures she's ok.

“And you can go without that now?” She looked skeptical, eyes focused on Will, but the Bat's watched as he was looking around carefully, keeping an eye on the area.  “Sure. We did in England.”  “Yeah, but that was different.” Her eyes stared off, not really focused on any one thing. “Here…here I’ve got to be a part of that. I can’t avoid it.”  “The hell you do. Natalie stays out of that stuff.”  “Natalie isn’t going to inherit her family’s title,” she retorted. “I’ve already got it. I’ve got to be involved, start making connections. Andre—” Will was getting frustrated, groaning,“Liss,” he takes a breathe to calm himself, “You aren’t Andre.”

I couldn’t believe she was still comparing herself to her brother.  “He was always involved in all that stuff.”  “Yeah, well,” I snapped back, “he’s dead now.”  Her face hardened. “You know, sometimes you aren’t very nice.”  “You don’t keep me around to be nice. You want nice, there are a dozen sheep in there who would rip each other’s throats to get in good with the Dragomir princess.

"God its like the socialites and the rich, just vampires," Tim says, laughing slightly, though Cass, Jason, Steph and Duke all groan. The gala's they'd been forced or invited to were enough, it would be hell having to live like that all the time, to be so aware of what you're doing and how it can be perceived.

I took a breathe and tried to show how much I cared for her on my face, "You keep me around to tell you the truth, and here it is: Andre’s dead. You’re the heir now, and you’re going to deal with it however you can. But for now, that means staying away from the other royals. We’ll just lie low. Coast through the middle. Get involved in that stuff again, Liss, and you’ll drive yourself…”  “Crazy?” she supplied when I didn’t finish.  Now I looked away. “I didn’t mean…”  “It’s okay.” she said, after a moment. She sighed and touched my arm. “Fine. We’ll stay and we’ll keep out of all that stuff. We’ll “coast through the middle‟ like you want. Hang out with Natalie, I guess.”

"How long you think thats going to work out?" "All or nothing?" Deal.

We’d kept out of that party life for years until Lissa’s parents and brother died. Andre should have been the one to inherit her family’s title, and he’d certainly acted like it. Handsome and outgoing, he’d charmed everyone he knew and had been a leader in all the royal cliques and clubs that existed on campus. After his death, Lissa had felt it was her family duty to take his place.  I’d gotten to join that world with her. It was easy for me, because I didn’t really have to deal with the politics of it. I was a pretty dhampir, one who didn’t mind getting into trouble and pulling crazy stunts. My place was easy, my part one I could play and no one be wiser. I became a novelty; they liked having me around for the fun of it.  Lissa had to deal with other matters. The Dragomir’s were one of the twelve ruling families. She’d have a very powerful place in Moroi society, and the other young royals wanted to get in good with her. Fake friends tried to schmooze her and get her to team up against other people. The royals could bribe and backstab in the same breath—and that was just with each other.

"Euh," Tim muttered, remembering how being temporary CEO was hell, Bruce gave him a look but didn't disagree. It was exhausting having to be on alert but seem to be easy and naive.

To most dhampirs and non-royals, they were completely unpredictable.  That cruel culture had eventually taken its toll on Lissa. She had an open, kind nature, one that I loved, and I hated to see her upset and stressed by royal games. She’d grown fragile since the accident, and all the parties in the world weren’t worth seeing her hurt.

"Uh oh, Guardian incoming, " Dick said, pointing to Belikov walking into area, he was behind Will, who didn't seem to notice him.

“All right then,” Will said finally. “We’ll see how this goes. If anything goes wrong—anything at all—we leave. No arguments.”  She nodded.  “Will?”  They both looked up at Dimitri’s looming form. "you think he heard them?"

I hoped he hadn’t heard the part about us leaving.  “You’re late for practice,” he said evenly. Seeing Lissa, he gave a polite nod. “Princess.”  As he and I walked away, I worried about Lissa and wondered if staying here was the right thing to do. I felt nothing alarming through the bond, but her emotions spiked all over the place. Confusion. Nostalgia. Fear. Anticipation. Strong and powerful, they flooded into me.  I felt the pull just before it happened. It was exactly like what had happened on the plane: her emotions grew so strong that they “sucked” me into her head before I could stop them.

They watched as he stopped as if frozen. Belikov didn't seem to notice for a few seconds, already ahead of him.

I could now see and feel what she did.  She walked slowly around the commons, toward the small Russian Orthodox chapel that served most of the school’s religious needs. Lissa had always attended mass regularly. Not me.  I had a standing arrangement with God: I’d agree to believe in him—barely—so long as he let me sleep in on Sundays. But as she went inside, I could feel that she wasn’t there to pray. She had another purpose, one I didn’t know about. Glancing around, she verified that neither the priest nor any worshippers were close by. The place was empty.  Slipping through a doorway in the back of the chapel, she climbed a narrow set of creaky stairs up into the attic. Here it was dark and dusty. The only light came through a large stained-glass window that fractured the faint glow of sunrise into tiny, multicolored gems across the floor.  I hadn’t known until that moment that this room was a regular retreat for Lissa. But now I could feel it, feel her memories of how she used to escape here to be alone and to think.

"We can't see her," Damian said, but as they did the mist rebuilt into the chapel attic, just as Dimitri stopped and noticed he wasn't following, "Is there anyway we can see both?" The mist didn't answer.

The anxiety in her ebbed away ever so slightly as she took in the familiar surroundings. She climbed up into the window seat and leaned her head back against its side, momentarily entranced by the silence and the light.  Moroi could stand some sunlight, unlike the Strigoi, but they had to limit their exposure. Sitting here, she could almost pretend she was in the sun, protected by the glass’s dilution of the rays.  Breathe, just breathe, she told herself. It’ll be okay. Will will take care of everything.  She believed that passionately, like always, and relaxed further.  Then a low voice spoke from the darkness.  “You can have the Academy but not the window seat.”  She sprang up, heart pounding. I shared her anxiety, and my own pulse quickened, I hadn't seen him because all i can see is what she does. “Who’s there?”  A moment later, a shape rose from behind a stack of crates, just outside her field of vision. The figure stepped forward, and in the poor lighting, familiar features materialized. Messy black hair. Pale blue eyes. A perpetually sardonic smirk.  Christian Ozera. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t bite. Well, at least not in the way you’re afraid of.” He chuckled at his own joke.  She didn’t find it funny. She had completely forgotten about Christian. So had I.

"Why is he so important?" Bruce muttered, whilst also thinking about how disorientating it must be to be pulled into someone else's head. Could Martian manhunter help him control is? I s it like telepathy but person specific?

No matter what happened in our world, a few basic truths about vampires remained the same. Moroi were alive; Strigoi were undead. Moroi were mortal; Strigoi were immortal. Moroi were born; Strigoi were made. They all focused intently on the scene, the two were just staring at each other, the only sound Will's thoughts.  And there were two ways to make a Strigoi. Strigoi could forcibly turn humans, dhampirs, or Moroi with a single bite. Moroi tempted by the promise of immortality could become Strigoi by choice if they purposely killed another person while feeding. Doing that was considered dark and twisted, the greatest of all sins, both against the Moroi way of life and nature itself. Moroi who chose this dark path lost their ability to connect with elemental magic and other powers of the world. That was why they could no longer go into the sun.  This is what had happened to Christian’s parents. They were Strigoi.

That sucked the air out of the room. 'So thats why the worlds are specifically separated from humans, if they can turn them...' Bruce thought. It made him feel a bit hopeless, making the divide between him... and his son... seem to widen further, like a chasm widening every day.

Or rather they had been Strigoi. A regiment of guardians had hunted them down and killed them. If rumors were true, Christian had witnessed it all when he was very young. And although he wasn’t Strigoi himself, some people thought he wasn’t far off, with the way he always wore black and kept to himself. I didn't care much about his parents- heaven knows parents don't define their childs path- but I didn’t trust him. He was a jerk, and I silently screamed at Lissa to get out of there—not that my screaming did much good. Stupid one-way bond.

'The one way bond is not the best thing' Bruce realised, at the same time the others did, "if its one-way he can't-." Bruce grunted in response, translated meaning, I know. No one stopped looking at the scene.

“What are you doing here?” Lissa asked, avoiding his eyes. Christian was relaxed, hands in his pockets, “Taking in the sights, of course. That chair with the tarp on it is particularly lovely this time of year. Over there, we have an old box full of the writings of the blessed and crazy St. Vladimir. And let’s not forget that beautiful table with no legs in the corner.” “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and moved toward the door, wanting to leave, but he blocked her way. “Well, what about you?” he taunted. “Why are you up here? Don’t you have parties to go to or lives to destroy?”

Some of Lissa’s old spark returned. “Wow, that’s hilarious. Am I like a rite of passage now? Go and see if you can piss off Lissa to prove how cool you are? Some girl I don’t even know yelled at me today, and now I’ve got to deal with you? What does it take to be left alone?”  “Oh. So that’s why you’re up here. For a pity party.”  “This isn’t a joke. I’m serious.” I could tell Lissa was getting angry. It was trumping her earlier distress.  He shrugged and leaned casually against the sloping wall. “So am I. I love pity parties. I wish I’d brought the hats. What do you want to mope about first? How it’s going to take you a whole day to be popular and loved again? How you’ll have to wait a couple weeks before the fancy shops can ship out some new clothes? If you spring for rush shipping, it might not be so long.”

"Jerk" Steph said, throwing food at him, as Lissa seemed to become more frustrated, pushing him aside“ Let me leave. “Wait,” he said, as she reached the door. The sarcasm disappeared from his voice. “What…um, what was it like?”  “What was what like?” she snapped.  “Being out there. Away from the Academy.”  S

he hesitated for a moment before answering, caught off guard by what seemed like a genuine attempt at conversation. “It was great. No one knew who I was. I was just another face. Not Moroi. Not royal. Not anything.” She looked down at the floor. “Everyone here thinks they know who I am.”  “Yeah. It’s kind of hard to outlive your past,” he said bitterly.  It occurred to Lissa at that moment—and me to by default—just how hard it might be to be Christian. Most of the time, people treated him like he didn’t exist. Like he was a ghost. They didn’t talk to or about him. They just didn’t notice him. The stigma of his parents‟ crime was too strong, casting its shadow onto the entire Ozera family.

Still, he’d pissed her off, and she wasn’t about to feel sorry for him.

“Wait—is this your pity party now?”  He laughed, almost approvingly. “This room has been my pity party for a year now.” “Sorry,” said Lissa snarkily. “I was coming here before I left. I’ve got a longer claim.” “Squatters‟ rights. Besides, I have to make sure I stay near the chapel as much as possible so people know I haven’t gone Strigoi…yet.” Again, everyone noticed the bitter tone rang out. Lissa was still annoyed and pissed, but she wasn't leaving, “I used to always see you at mass. Is that the only reason you go? To look good?”

Strigoi couldn’t enter holy ground. More of that sinning-against-the-world thing.

“Sure,” he said. “Why else go? For the good of your soul?” , locking up the sky and doing the praying symbol. “Whatever,” said Lissa, who clearly had a different opinion. “I’ll leave you alone then.” “Wait,” he said again, he didn’t seem to want her to go. “I’ll make you a deal. You can hang out here too if you tell me one thing.” “What?” She glanced back at him. He leaned forward. “Of all the rumors I heard about you today—and believe me, I heard plenty, even if no one actually told them to me—there was one that didn’t come up very much. They dissected everything else: why you left, what you did out there, why you came back, the specialization, what Will said to Mia, blah, blah, blah. And in all of that, no one, no one ever questioned that stupid story that Will told about there being all sorts of fringe humans who let you take blood.” The viglantes held their breath, this didn't seem like it would end well. Lissa looked away, and they could see her cheeks starting to burn. “It’s not stupid. Or a story.” He laughed softly, hushed, as if a big secret, which Dick supposed, was. “I’ve lived with humans. My aunt and I stayed away after my parents…died. It’s not that easy to find blood.” When she didn’t answer, he laughed again. “It was Will, wasn’t it? He fed you.”

A renewed fear shot through both her and me. No one at school could know about that. Kirova and the guardians on the scene knew, but they’d kept that knowledge to themselves. He seemed to take her silence as a confession, “well. If that’s not friendship, I don’t know what it is."

"You can't tell anyone, she blurted out.

This was all we needed. As I’d just been reminded, feeders were vampire-bite addicts. We accepted that as part of life but still looked down on them for it. For anyone else—especially a dhampir—letting a Moroi take blood from you was almost, well, dirty. In fact, one of the kinkiest, practically pornographic things a dhampir could do was let a Moroi drink blood during sex.  Lissa and I hadn’t had sex, of course, but we’d both known what others would think of me feeding her.

"What the fuck?" a renewed sense of disgust poured through the older vigilantes. "but he kept her alive, that's commendable, especially at a cost to him," Damani started, "they had no other choice." "They'd probably just see it as that he should have kept her here. That that was the choice they should have picked." Tim said gently, he had paused typing up the information. “Don’t tell anyone,” Lissa repeated, and the viglantes could see her hand shaking behind her back. He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and sat down on one of the crates. “Who am I going to tell? Look, go grab the window seat. You can have it today and hang out for a while. If you’re not still afraid of me.”

She hesitated, studying him. He looked dark and surly, lips curled in a sort of I’m-such-a-rebel smirk. But he didn’t look too dangerous. He didn’t look Strigoi. Gingerly, she sat back down in the window seat, unconsciously rubbing her arms against the cold. Christian watched her, and a moment later, the air warmed up considerably.  Lissa met Christian’s eyes and smiled, surprised she’d never noticed how icy blue they were before. “You specialized in fire?”  He nodded and pulled up a broken chair. “Now we have luxury accommodations.”

The mist around them broke away from them, snapping back to Will. Belikov was Infront of him, leaning toward him, his hands gripping his shoulder. “Will? Will?”

Blinking, I focused on Dimitri’s face. I ’d stopped walking; we stood in the middle of the quad separating the upper school buildings.  “Are you all right?”  “I…yeah. I was…I was with Lissa…” I put a hand to my forehead. I’d never had such a long or clear experience like that. “I was in her head.”  “Her…head?”  “Yeah. It’s part of the bond.” I didn’t really feel like elaborating.  “Is she all right?”  “Yeah, she’s…” I hesitated.Was he all right? Christian Ozera had just invited her to hang out with him. Not good. There was “coasting through the middle,” and then there was whatever this was.

"He didn't seem that bad-" Duke starts, but Damian interrupts, "it depends on what he does with this information." He was angry for Will's sake.

But the feelings humming through our bond were no longer scared or upset. She was almost content, though still a little nervous. “She’s not in danger,” I finally said. I hoped.   “Can you keep going?”  The hard, stoic warrior I’d met earlier was gone—just for a moment—and he actually looked concerned. Truly concerned. Feeling his eyes on me like that made something flutter inside of me—which was stupid, of course. He was worried for Lissa, he isn't actively trying to hurt her, he's charged with protecting him. I shouldn't be so nervous.

Cass hummed, waving off Bruce when he turns to look at her, even though she doesn't turn to look at him, eyes amused looking at the two.

Though, according to Mason he was an antisocial god, one who was supposedly going to leave me in all sorts of pain. “Yeah. We're fine.”  I went into the gym’s dressing room and changed into the workout clothes someone had finally thought to give me after a day of practicing in thick and a T-shirt. Gross. Lissa hanging out with Christian troubled me, but I shoved that thought away for later as my muscles informed me they did not want to go through any more fighting today.  So I suggested to Dimitri that maybe he should let me off this time. maybe we can just run, no fighting, I thought.

He laughed, the first time the vigilantes heard it.

I was pretty sure that it was at me and not with me. “Why is that funny? "Will said, seeming to be genuinely confused, tilting his head slightly.

“Oh,” Dimitri said, his smile dropping. “You were serious.” “Of course I was." Will walked up to him, "Look, I’ve technically been awake for two days. Why do we have to start this training now? Let me go to bed,”

I'm pretty sure i was slightly whining, but I'd actually been up for nearly 3 days with only a few hours sleep, I'd managed to snag some extra shifts and they were kind enough to let Liss stay in the break room and read. “It’s just one hour.” He crossed his arms and looked down at me. His earlier concern was gone. He was all business now. Tough love.

“How do you feel right now? After the training you’ve done so far?” “I hurt like hell.” “You’ll feel worse tomorrow.” Will didn't have anything to say to that. “So, better to jump in now while you still feel…not as bad.” “What kind of logic is that?” Will retorted. But he didn’t argue anymore as he was led into the weight room. Belikov showed Will the weights and reps he wanted him to do, then sprawled in a corner with a battered Western novel.

Some god.

There were a few groans when the training was skipped, the mist materialising to the end. Belikov had stood beside Will to demonstrate a few cool-down stretches, when Will started up a conversation, “How’d you end up as Lissa’s guardian? You weren’t here a few years ago. Were you even trained at this school?”

He didn’t answer right away. I got the feeling he didn’t talk about himself very often. “No. I attended the one in Siberia.”  “Whoa. That’s got to be the only place worse than here,” I joked, dry and probably failing to convey the sarcasm.  A glint of something—maybe amusement—sparked in his eyes, but he didn’t acknowledge the joke. “After I graduated, I was a guardian for a Zeklos’s lord. He was killed recently.”

It slapped the vigilantes in the face, "He's only young, in his early twenties, to loose someone so early..." Barabra spoke up she'd been the most well behaved, having arrived slightly later, being quickly caught up by Dick. She'd been making notes on her computer, the sound almost white noise to everyone. They watched as Belikov's smile dropped, face going dark, "They sent me here because they needed extras on campus, then a tip came in about the whereabouts of the Princess and i was sent, they put me in charge of her retrieval, assigning me to her. Not that it matters until she leaves campus.”

I thought about what he’d said before. Some Strigoi killed the guy he was supposed to have been guarding? “Did this lord die on your watch?”

"Geeze! Got his conversation skills from you," Dick said, poking Bruce.

Belikov didn't seem to take offense, still stretching.

“No. He was with his other guardian. I was away.” He fell silent, his mind obviously somewhere else. The Moroi expected a lot from us, but they did recognize that the guardians were—more or less—only human. So, guardians got pay and time off like you’d get in any other job. Some hard-core guardians—like my Guardian Hathaway—refused vacations, vowing never to leave their Moroi’s sides. Looking at Dimitri now, I had a feeling he might very well turn into one of those. If he’d been away on legitimate leave, he could hardly blame himself for what happened to that guy. Still, he probably did anyway. I’d blame myself too if something happened to Lissa.

They didn't know what to say to that, the only sound the keyboard and the rustling of snacks.

“Hey,” I said, suddenly wanting to cheer him up, “did you help come up with the plan to get us back? ....Because it was pretty good. Brute force and all that.”  He arched an eyebrow curiously. Cool. I’d always wished I could do that. “You’re complimenting me on that?”  “Well, it was a hell of a lot better than the last one they tried.”  “Last one?”   I moved to stretch my other leg, absently pressing my hand on my thigh.

“Yeah. In Spain. With the pack of psi-hounds.” Belikov had stopped where he was, looking at Will. “This was the first time we found you. In England.”

The vigilantes were confused, "Thought he never went near them?" "Do you think, " Damian paused, "that he was attacked by one of these 'Psi-Hounds'?" At the looks form the others, "his thigh."

I sat up from my stretches and crossed my legs. “Um, I don’t think I imagined psi-hounds. Who else could have sent them? They only answer to Moroi. Maybe no one told you about it.”  “Maybe,” he said dismissively. I could tell by his face he didn’t believe that. I shouldn't have said anything

The mist stopped swirling to shrink before bursting out into.. a dorm room?

I returned to the novices‟ dorm after that. The Moroi students lived on the other side of the quad, closer to the commons. The living arrangements were partly based on convenience, though it wasn't convenient now, being so far from Lissa. Being here kept us novices closer to the gym and training grounds. But we also lived separately to accommodate the differences in Moroi and dhampir lifestyles. Their dorm had almost no windows, aside from tinted ones that dimmed sunlight. They also had a special section where feeders always stayed on hand. The novices‟ dorm was built in a more open way, allowing for more light. I passed a spot i regularly sunbathed in, like a cat.

The bat's all smiled at the image that conjured.

I had my own room because there were so few novices, let alone females. The room they’d given me was small and plain, with a twin bed and a desk with a computer. My few belongings had been spirited out of England and now sat in boxes around the room. I rummaged through them, pulling out a T-shirt to sleep in. I found a couple of pictures as I did, one of Lissa and me at a football game in England and another taken when I’d gone on vacation with her family, a year before the accident.  I set them on my desk and booted up the computer. Someone from tech support had helpfully given me a sheet with instructions for renewing my e-mail account and setting up a password. I did both, happy to discover no one had realized that this would serve as a way for me to communicate with Lissa.

That made Jason laugh, "rule breaker."

Too tired to write to her now, I was about to turn everything off when I noticed I already had a message. From Janine Hathaway. It was short: I’m glad you’re back. What you did was inexcusable.

Bruce frowned at that.

“Love you too, 'Mom',” I muttered, shutting it all down. When I went to bed afterward, I passed out before even hitting the pillow.

Bruce broke the silence, "We need a break, we've been here for a while." and the mist stopped, "we need a proper meal, not snacks, Alfred won't be too happy." The vigilantes started to stand up, some stretching and popping their joints. "Meet back in an hour and half."

Chapter Text

Bruce asked the mist to continue, but all it did was spread out lazily, not building anything up but Will, who had amassed an impressive bed head and was starting to awake.

Just as Dimitri had predicted, I felt ten times worse when I woke up the next morning. Lying there in bed, I reconsidered the perks of running away. Then I remembered getting my ass kicked and figured the only way to prevent that from happening again was to go endure some more of it this morning.

The mist didn't put any background into focus, instead showing Will throw on clothes, and than jog, and than work out, all sped up and not always the most natural fluid movements, as if his actions had been edited and cut up. His entire morning was edited into seconds.

My soreness made it all that much worse, but I survived the before-school practice with Dimitri and my subsequent classes without passing out or fainting. And at lunch, I dragged Lissa away from Natalie’s table early and gave her a Kirova-worthy lecture about Christian—particularly chastising her for letting him know about our blood arrangement. If that got out, it’d kill both of us socially and I didn’t trust him not to tell.

The mist caught up to him, building the arch he'd moved them to for privacy, with vines and bushes climbing around them. It was dark out, with lights dotted around, though it wasn't enough for them to see without the mist artificially brightening the area. 'Though Bruce supposed their improved senses made it visible enough.

Lissa had other concerns.

“You were in my head again?” Lissa exclaimed, automatically lowering her voice when she realised how loud she'd been, “For that long?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Will said back, hesitating slightly, “It just happened. And that’s not the point. How long did you hang out with him afterward?”
“Not that long. It was kind of…fun.” She looked away from Will, looking straight at the vigilantes, making Dick wave awkwardly.
“Hm." Will grunted, "you can’t do it again. If people find out you’re hanging out with him, they’ll crucify you.” He stopped where he was to eye her carefully, before awkwardly asking, "You aren’t, like, into him, are you?”
It made the vigilantes chuckle, she scoffed. “No. Of course not."
"Liar," Dick sang.
“Good. Because if you’re going to go after a guy, steal Aaron back.”
"That's not the best advice..."

He was boring, yes, but safe. Just like Natalie. How come all the harmless people were so lame? Maybe that was the definition of safe.

Lissa laughed, “Mia would claw my eyes out.”
“We can take her."
Will's statement sent Lissa giggling, “I can’t believe you think I’m the one who’s going to get us in trouble.”

Smiling as we strolled toward class, I gave her a sidelong glance and started, “Aaron does look pretty good though, huh?” She smiled back and avoided my eyes. “Yeah. Pretty good.” “Ooh. You see? You should go after him.”  “Whatever. I’m fine being friends now.”  “Friends who used to stick their tongues down each other’s throats.” I added, unhelpful, words soaked in sarcasm. She rolled her eyes.  “Fine.” I let my teasing go. “Leave Aaron alone. Just so long as you stay away from Christian. He’s dangerous.”  “You’re overreacting. He’s not going Strigoi.”
I don't think he's going to go Strigoi

But Will just says, “He’s a bad influence.”
"God he's so much like you its creepy," Jason laughs.
Lissa just smiled, “You think I’m in danger of going Strigoi?”

She didn’t wait for my answer, instead pushing ahead to open the door to our science class. Standing there, I uneasily replayed her words and then followed a moment later.

"What's that about? So many secrets, like a Batnion." Dick says, and at the vigilantes silence and dead stare, he waves back to the screen to try and distract one, "yeah, that was a bad one," he muttered.
As Will entered the classroom, a different one to yesterday, he walked into a scene where a group of guys were picking on another guy.

Royal power in action. A few guys—with giggling, watching girls—were messing with a gangly-looking Moroi. I didn’t know him very well, but I knew he was poor and certainly not royal. A couple of his tormentors were air-magic users, and they’d blown the papers off his desk and were pushing them around the room on currents of air while the guy tried to catch them.  My instincts urged me to do something, maybe go smack one of the air users.

Jason and Steph lean forward and nodded, and Duke shook his head annoyed at the bullies.

But I couldn’t pick a fight with everyone who annoyed me, and certainly not a group of royals—especially when Lissa needed to stay off their radar. So I could only give them a look of disgust as I walked to my desk. As I did, a hand caught my arm. Jesse.  “Hey,” I said jokingly, remembering to smile easily at him. Fortunately, he didn’t appear to be participating in the torture session. “Hands off the merchandise.”  He flashed me a smile but kept his hand on me. “Will, tell Paul about the time you started the fight in Ms. Karp’s class.”  I cocked my head toward him, giving him a playful smile. “I started a lot of fights in her class.”

"He reminds me of a younger version of you Master Bruce." Alfred spoke out, standing at the door, Damian oved to sit on the floor to let him sit down, though he didn't move. "Come and enjoy the show, Alfred," Jason responded, when Bruce just hmmed in response, Jason cocking his head towards the seat, moving to left Alfred passed and focusing back on the classroom,

“The one with the hermit crab. And the gerbil.”  I laughed awkwardly, recalling it. “Oh yeah. It was a hamster, I think. I just dropped it into the crab’s tank, and they were both worked up from being so close to me, so they went at it.” I'd only wanted to stop the poor thing from being stepped on, but i dropped it when it started freaking out. A guy sitting nearby whom I didn’t really know, chuckled too. He’d transferred last year, apparently, and hadn’t heard of this, Paul, that's his name, "Who won?”

Will looked at Jesse quizzically. “I don’t remember. Do you?” “No. I just remember Karp freaking out.” He turned toward Paul. “Man, you should have seen this messed-up teacher we used to have. Used to think people were after her and would go off on stuff that didn’t make any sense. She was nuts. Used to wander campus while everyone was asleep.”

I smiled tightly, like I thought it was funny. Instead, I thought back to Ms. Karp again, surprised to be thinking about her for the second time in two days.

"Another name to add to the board" Duke whispered to Tim, who'd upgraded to a laptop during the break.

Jesse was right—she had wandered campus a lot when she still worked here. It was pretty creepy. I’d run into her once—unexpectedly.

They watched as he moved to sit down, though his mind was clearly elsewhere.

I’d been climbing out of my dorm window to go hang out with some people. It was after hours, and we were all supposed to be in our rooms, fast asleep. Such escape tactics were a regular practice for me. I was good at them.  But I fell that time. I had a second-floor room, and I lost my grip about halfway down. Sensing the ground rush up toward me, I tried desperately to grab hold of something and slow my fall. The building’s rough stone tore into my skin, causing cuts I was too preoccupied to feel. I slammed into the grassy earth, back first, getting the wind knocked out of me.  “Bad form, Hathaway. You should be more careful. Your instructors would be disappointed.”  Peering through the tangle of my hair, I saw Ms. Karp looking down at me, a bemused look on her face. Pain, in the meantime, shot through every part of my body.  Ignoring it as best I could, I clambered to my feet. Being in class with Karp while surrounded by other students was one thing. Standing outside alone with her was an entirely different matter. She always had an eerie, distracted gleam in her eye that made my skin break out in goose bumps.  There was also now a high likelihood she’d drag me off to Kirova for a detention.

The mist did not form the obvious flashback, instead just creating an image of a woman, with long hair, behind Will.

Scarier still.  Instead, she just smiled and reached for my hands. I flinched but let her take them. She tsked when she saw the scrapes. Tightening her grip on them, she frowned slightly. A tingle burned my skin, laced with a sort of pleasant buzz, and then the wounds closed up. I had a brief sense of dizziness. My temperature spiked. The blood disappeared, as did the pain in my hip and leg.  Gasping, I jerked my hands away. I’d seen a lot of Moroi magic, but never anything like that.  “What…what did you do?”  She gave me that weird smile again. “Go back to your dorm, Hathaway. There are bad things out here. You never know what’s following you.”  I was still staring at my hands. “But…” I looked back up at her and for the first time noticed scars on the sides of her forehead. Like nails had dug into them. She winked. “I won’t tell on you if you don’t tell on me.”  I jumped back to the present, absently tracing my hands where the scrapes were, unsettled by the memory of that bizarre night. Jesse, in the meantime, was telling me about a party having leaned in his seat.

“You’ve got to slip your leash tonight. We’re going up to that spot in the woods around eight thirty. Mark got some weed."

"I don't like him." Duke said, with Damian mirroring his statement.

Remember how you acted I sighed wistfully, settling back into my skin, regret replacing the chill I’d felt over the memory of Ms. Karp. “Can’t slip that leash. I’m with my Russian jailer.”  He looked disappointed, and ran a hand through his bronze-colored hair. I distantly remember thinking I could have found him attractive, and now i was back. I really would have to fix that someday. “Can’t you ever get off for good behavior?” he joked.  I gave him what I hoped was a seductive smile as I found my seat. “Sure,” I called over my shoulder. “If I was ever good.”

"God it's like a weird mini you. It's creepy seeing his thought process, is it similar to yours?" Steph leaned to gesture at him, not bothering to turn to the side. When Bruce didn't respond she scoffed.
The mist didn't show anything for the rest of that day, instead showing a window of his dorm changed from sunrise, to sunset, signalling another day, "That is odd, even for us."

As much as Lissa's and Christian’s meeting bothered me, it gave me an idea the next day, which found me outside her office.
“Hey, Kirova—er, Ms. Kirova.” I stood in the doorway of her office, not having bothered to make an appointment. She raised her eyes from some paperwork, clearly annoyed to see me. Nothing new

“Yes, Mr Hathaway?”
He was calm, but polite,  “Does my house arrest mean I can’t go to church?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You said that whenever I’m not in class or practice, I have to stay in the dorm. But what about church on Sundays? I don’t think it’s really fair to keep me away from my religious…um, needs.”

Or deprive me of another chance—no matter how short and boring—to hang out with Lissa.

They watched as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I wasn’t aware you had any religious needs.”
“I found Jesus while I was gone," the vigilantes were amused at how he was able to seem so truthful.
“Isn’t your mother an atheist?” she asked skeptically.
He nodded, “And my dad’s Jewish? Maybe. But I’ve moved on to my own path. You shouldn’t keep me from it.”
She made a noise that sort of sounded like a snicker, turning back to her paperwork “No, Mr Hathaway, I should not. Very well. You may attend services on Sundays.”

As he left the room the mist stayed where it was, focusing on the open area outside Kirova's office, before completing two day cycles, 'night cycles?' Bruce thought.

The victory was short-lived, however, because church was every bit as lame as I remembered.

The church was beautiful ,with a large stained glass seeming to glow even in the night.

I did get to sit next to Lissa, though, which made me feel like I was getting away with something. Mostly I just people-watched. Church was optional for students, but with so many Eastern European families, a lot of students were Eastern Orthodox Christians and attended either because they believed or because their parents made them. Christian sat on the opposite side of the aisle, pretending to be just as holy as he’d said.

The vigilantes turned to the side to see him, hands in his pockets.

As much as I didn’t like him, his fake faith still made me smile. Dimitri sat in the back, face lined with shadows, and, like me, didn’t take communion. As thoughtful as he looked, I wondered if he even listened to the service. I tuned in and out.

“Following God’s path is never easy,” the priest was saying, his voice clear even to the vigilantes, which were at the back near the large front doors, they could see Will and Lissa in front of them, Lissa's blond hair like a beacon. “Even St. Vladimir, this school’s own patron saint, had a difficult time. He was so filled with spirit that people often flocked around him, enthralled just to listen and be in his presence. So great was his spirit, the old texts say, that he could heal the sick."

A saint who could heal, Bruce made a note, even as Barbara and Tim typed away.

"Yet despite these gifts, many did not respect him. They mocked him, claiming he was misguided and confused.”

Which was a nice way of saying Vladimir was insane. Everyone knew it. He was one of a handful of Moroi saints, so the priest liked to talk about him a lot. I’d heard all about him, many times over, before we left. Great. It looked like I had an eternity of Sundays to hear his story over and over again.

The service sped up, Will looking more interested in the people than the priest. When the priest spoke, it startled them“…and so it was with shadow-kissed Anna.” and they all noticed Will jerk his head up.

I had no idea what the priest was talking about now, because I hadn’t been listening for some time. But those words burned into me. Shadow-kissed. It had been a while since I heard them, but I’d never forgotten them. I waited, hoping he’d continue, but he’d already moved on to the next part of the service.

"Add it to the list," Tim mocked, though he seemed to be transcribing everything with how much he typed. The scene moved fast again, and quicky ended, the sermon was over. As Lissa turned to go, they watched as Will shook his head, “Wait for me. I’ll be right there.” He said, before pushing his way through the crowd, up to the front, where the priest was speaking with a few people. Barbara chuckled as they saw him wait impatiently until the priest finished. Though to many he'd almost looked bored, they all recognised the same facial expressions in Bruce.

Natalie was there, asking him about volunteer work she could do. Ugh. When she finished, she left, greeting me as she passed.  The priest raised his eyebrows when he saw me.

Though the priest spoke quieter than before, the mist seemed to increase it 's volume so it could be heard, whilst 'zooming in'. “Hello, Will. It’s nice to see you again.”
“Yeah…you too,” he said, “I heard you talking about Anna. About how she was „shadow-kissed.‟ what does that mean?”
“Why does she care about that?” Damian asked tilting his head, everyone else wanting to know more about shadow kissed as well. Damian then turned to Tim who muttered, "Adding it to the list."

The priest frowned,  “I’m not entirely sure. She lived a very long time ago. It was often common to refer to people by titles that reflected some of their traits. It might have been given to make her sound fierce.”

I tried to hide my disappointment. “Oh. So who was she?”  This time his frown was disapproving rather than thoughtful. “I mentioned it a number of times.”  “Oh. I must have, um, missed that.”  His disapproval grew, and he turned around. “Wait just a moment.”, before disappearing through the door near the altar, the one Lissa had taken to the attic. I considered fleeing but thought God might strike me down for that.

Jason laughed at that. Less than a minute later, the priest returned with a book. He handed it to Will, though no one could see the cover.

Moroi Saints.

“You can learn about her in here. The next time I see you, I’d like to hear what you’ve learned.” Will didn't say anything else and moved to leave, though he seemed to abort his movements to nod and awkwardly smile at the priest, raising the book slightly. Bruce looked over when he noticed Damian discreetly poking Tim, who in response clicked on another tab to open up a document that had a tally going. Bruce looked at the title to see, 'Bruceisms'. He grunted before turning back, not missing Damian's or Tim's smirk.

Great. Homework from the priest.

Will had walked down the chapels hallway to the entry way, finding Lissa talking to Aaron.

She smiled as she spoke, and the feelings coming off her were happy, though certainly not infatuated.

“You’re kidding,” she exclaimed.
Aaron shook his head. “Nope.” Seeing Will stroll over, Lissa turned to him. “Will, you’re never going to believe this. You know Abby Badica? And Xander? Their guardian wants to resign. And marry another guardian.” That's interesting, a scandal, actually.

"Why?"
"I'm added it to the list!" Tim mock shouted before under his breath "I've got too many questions, it's going to be a hell of a first meeting."

“Seriously? Are they, like, going to run off together?” She nodded. “They’re getting a house. Going to get jobs with humans, I guess.”

I glanced at Aaron, who had suddenly turned shy with me there. “How are Abby and Xander dealing with that?”  “Okay. Embarrassed. They think it’s stupid.” Then he realized who he was speaking to. “Oh. I didn’t mean—”  “Whatever.” I gave him a tight smile. “It is stupid.” Wow. Though thinking about it, I wasn't stunned. The rebellious part me of loved any story where people “fought the system.” Only, in this case, they were fighting my system, the one I’d been trained to believe in my entire life.

The slight running commentary fell to a hush.

Dhampirs and Moroi had a strange arrangement. Dhampirs had originally been born from Moroi mixing with humans. Unfortunately, dhampirs couldn’t reproduce with each other—or with humans. It was a weird genetic thing. Mules were the same way, I’d been told,

Bruce grimaced at that.

though that wasn’t a comparison I really liked hearing. Dhampirs and full Moroi ,could have children together, and, through another genetic oddity, their kids came out as standard dhampirs, with half human genes, half vampire genes.  With Moroi being the only ones with whom dhampirs could reproduce, we had to stay close to them and intermingle with them. Likewise, it became important to us that the Moroi simply survived . Without them, we were done. And with the way Strigoi loved picking off Moroi, their survival became a legitimate concern for us.  That was how the guardian system developed.

Tim was typing up a storm, with the others fully invested in the sudden history lesson. Bruce was soaking up all information he could.

Dhampirs couldn’t work magic, but we made great warriors. We’d inherited enhanced senses and reflexes from our vampire genes and better strength and endurance from our human genes. We also weren’t limited by a need for blood or trouble with sunlight. Sure, we weren’t as powerful as the Strigoi, but we trained hard, and guardians did a kick-ass job at keeping Moroi safe. Most dhampirs felt it was worth risking their own lives to make sure our kind could still keep having children.  Since Moroi usually wanted to have and raise Moroi children, you didn’t find a lot of long-term Moroi-dhampir romances.
You especially didn’t find a lot of Moroi women hooking up with dhampir guys. But plenty of young Moroi men liked fooling around with dhampir women, although those guys usually went on to marry Moroi women. That left a lot of single dhampir mothers, but they were tough and could handle it. However, many dhampir mothers chose not to become guardians in order to raise their children. These women sometimes worked “regular” jobs with Moroi or humans; some of them lived together in communities.

'So the worlds aren't totally separated?"

These communities had a bad reputation. I don’t know how much of it was true and if i had spare time I was itching to learn more. It could have helped with keeping Lissa safe. But all I had was rumors and rumors said Moroi men visited all the time for sex, and that some dhampir women let them drink blood while doing it. Blood whores.

"That's... at lot."

Regardless, almost all guardians were men, which meant there were a lot more Moroi than guardians. Most dhampir guys accepted that they wouldn’t have kids. They knew it was their job to protect Moroi while their sisters and cousins had babies.  Some dhampir women, like my mother, still felt it was their duty to become guardians—even if it meant not raising any kids.

Bruce sat up, a feeling of anger starting to grow, 'Did she?" He was annoyed, he'd missed so much and though it wasn't fair he'd jump at the chance to have raised him, or even known about him.

After I’d been born, she’d handed me over to be raised by Moroi. Ha. Moroi and dhampirs start school pretty young, and the Academy had essentially taken over as my parent by the time I was three. Between her example and my life at the Academy, I believed wholeheartedly that it was a dhampirs job to protect Moroi. It was our duty- my duty.

The vigilantes all looked at Bruce. Bruce looked away. "He reminds me of a young man," Alfred said kindly, slightly nostalgic.

It was part of our heritage, it was the only way we’d keep going and it allowed my to keep Lissa safe. It was that simple.  And that was what made what the Badicas‟ guardian had done so shocking. He’d abandoned his Moroi and run off with another guardian, which meant she’d abandoned her Moroi. Now two families were unprotected. What was the point? No one cared if teenage dhampirs dated or if adult dhampirs had flings. And though many certainly cared about a long-term relationship, i never did. If they could find a balance, and realised that each other would never come first, all the best for them. A long term relationship though, particularly one that involved them running away? A complete waste. And a disgrace.

Bruce noticed Tim spam a load of tallies, slightly amused but mostly shocked. The others were speechless, it was too much information and like looking at an younger reflection of Bruce.

After a little more speculation on the Badicas, though all of them had missed most of it, Lissa and Will left Aaron. As they stepped outside-

I heard a funny shifting sound and then something sliding. Too late, I realized what was happening, just as a pile of slush slid off the chapel’s roof and onto us.

Like they had been splashed with cold water, they were all stunned. Cass frowned.

It was early October, and living in the mountains high up, we’d had early snow last night that had started melting almost immediately. As a result, the stuff that fell on us was very wet and very cold.  Lissa took the brunt of it, but I still yelped as icy water landed on my hair and neck. A few others squealed nearby too, having caught the edge of the mini-avalanche. “You okay?” I asked her. Her coat was drenched, and her platinum hair clung to the sides of her face.  “Y-yeah,” she said through chattering teeth.  I pulled off my coat and handed it to her. It had a slick surface and had repelled most of the water.

The vigilantes smiled with Jason turning to Bruce eyebrows raised, "A hero." They watched as Lissa tried to fight with Will about accepting his coat, hearing the laughter that always followed these kind of situations

I avoided the eyes, instead focusing on holding Lissa’s wet jacket while she changed.  “Wish you hadn’t been wearing a coat, Will,” said Ralf Sarcozy an unusually bulky and plump Moroi. I hated him. “That shirt would have looked good wet.”

“That shirt’s so ugly it should be burned. Did you get that from a homeless person?”  I glanced up as Mia walked over and looped her arm through Aaron’s. Her blond curls were arranged perfectly, and she had on a pair of black heels that made her look taller, clever I’d give her that.

Aaron had been a few steps behind them but had miraculously avoided being nailed by the slush, looking awkward and trying to avoid the confrontation in front of him. "Don't like him much," Duke said.

Seeing how smug she looked, It wasn't hard to figure out there’d been no miracles involved. “I suppose you want to offer to burn it, huh?” I asked, refusing to let her know how much that insult bugged me. I knew perfectly well my fashion sense had slipped over the last two years, I'd been trying new stuff just before i left trying to figure myself out, but then we'd been on a tight budget. “Oh, wait—fire isn’t your element, is it? You work with water. What a coincidence that a bunch just fell on us.”

"Detective genes passed down," Dick joked, miming a tick shape.

Mia looked as if she’d been insulted, but the gleam in her eyes showed that she was enjoying this way too much to be an innocent bystander. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  “Nothing to me. But Ms. Kirova will probably have something to say when she finds out you used magic against another student.”  “That wasn’t an attack,” she scoffed. “And it wasn’t me. It was an act of God.”  A few others laughed, much to her delight. In my imagination, ones of the ways I'd want to respond with, would have been  So is this, and then slammed her into the side of the church.

"Ah, reminds me of your youth," Alfred reminisced, dry sarcasm leaking through, "though you did have less self control." Quiet laughter followed, Bruce looking affronted at the absolute betrayal.

In real life, Lissa simply nudged Will and said "Lets go," before they walked off together down a path, leaving behind laughter and jokes about the duos wet states and how Lissa wouldn't know anything about Specialisation, making the vigilantes stare at them.

Inside, I seethed. I had to do something about Mia, I realized. In addition to the general irritation of Mia’s bitchiness, I didn’t want Lissa to have to deal with any more stress than she had to. We’d been okay this first week, and I wanted to keep it that way.  “You know,” I said, “I’m thinking more and more that you stealing Aaron back is a good thing. It’ll teach Bitch Doll a lesson. I bet it’d be easy, too. He’s still crazy about you.”

"i don't know how to feel about that," Steph started, "but doing something morally questionable whilst saying and thinking he meant well.. Well that's you, Bruce, too a tee." Bruce looked at her, stared for a second, before just nodding and looking back at the scene in front of him

“I don’t want to teach anyone a lesson,” said Lissa after several seconds of silence. “And I’m not crazy about him.”
He looked at her blanky, “Come on, she picks fights and talks about us behind our backs. She accused me of getting jeans from the Salvation Army yesterday.”
“Your jeans are from the Salvation Army.”
“Well, yeah,” he snorted, “but she has no right making fun of them when she’s wearing stuff from Primark.”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with Primark. I like Primark.”
“So do I. That’s not the point. She’s trying to pass her stuff off like its freaking Stella McCartney.”
“And that’s a crime?”

I affected a solemn face, “Absolutely. You’ve gotta take revenge.” “I told you, I’m not interested in revenge.” Lissa cut me a sidelong look. “And you shouldn’t be either.”  I smiled as innocently as I could, and when we parted ways, I felt relieved again that she couldn’t read my thoughts.  “So when’s the big catfight going to happen?”, Mason was waiting for me outside our dorm after I’d parted ways with Lissa.

"They've got to be friends for ages, he knows him to well."

He looked lazy leaning against the wall with crossed arms as he watched Will walk closer.  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”  He unfolded himself and walked with Will into the building, the mist following smoothing, handing Will his coat, since Will had let Lissa go off with my dry one. “I saw you guys sparring outside the chapel. Have you no respect for the house of God?”  Will snorted at the exaggerated offended look Mason had made, hand to his chest.
“You’ve got about as much respect for it as I do, you heathen. You didn’t even go. Besides, as you said, we were outside .”
“And you still didn’t answer the question.”

I just grinned and slipped on his coat.  We stood in the common area of our dorm, a well-supervised lounge and study area where male and female students could mingle, along with Moroi guests. Being Sunday, it was pretty crowded with those cramming for last-minute assignments due tomorrow. Spying a small, empty table, I grabbed Mason’s arm and pulled him toward it.  “Aren’t you supposed to go straight to your room?”

"Yep," Dick popped the p when he said it, amused at Mason's face. He wasn't surprised.

I hunkered down in my seat, glancing around warily. “There are so many people here today, it’ll take them a while to notice me. God, I’m so sick of being locked away. And it’s only been a week.”  “I’m sick of it too. We missed you last night. A bunch of us went and shot pool in the rec room. Eddie was on fire.”  I groaned. “Don’t tell me that. I don’t want to hear about your glamorous social life.”  “All right.” He propped his elbow up on the table and rested his chin in his hand. “Then tell me about Mia. You’re just going to turn around and punch her one day, aren’t you? I think I remember you doing that at least ten times with people that pissed you off.” It wasn't my finest moments, but it was after the accident, so- they really should have known better after the second time.

“I’m a new, reformed person,” Will replied.

I tried my best impression of demure. Which wasn’t very good.

Mason emitted a choking sort of laugh, as Will continued, “Besides, if I do that, I’ll have broken my probation with Kirova. Gotta walk the straight and narrow.”
“In other words, find some way to get back at Mia that you won’t get in trouble for.”

"any bets?" Duke whispered, starting a soft conversation amongst the vigilantes, except for Bruce.

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, “You know what I like about you, Mase? You think just like I do.”
“Frightening concept,” he replied drily. “So tell me what you think of this: I might know something about her, but I probably shouldn’t tell you…”
Will leaned forward. “Oh, you already tipped me off. You’ve gotto tell me now.”
“It’d be wrong,” he teased. “How do I know you’d use this knowledge for good instead of evil?” He looked at Mason, tilting his face slightly and forming a soft smile “Can you resist this face?” He took a moment to study him.

Dick gasped, and set off another round of bets.

“No. I can’t, actually. Okay, here you go: Mia isn’t royal.”  Will slouched back in his chair. “No kidding. I already knew that. I’ve known who’s royal since I was two.”  “Yeah, but there’s more than just that. Her parents work for one of the Drozdov lords.” Will just looked at Mason impatiently.

A lot of Moroi worked out in the human world, but Moroi society had plenty of jobs for its own kind too. Someone had to fill them. “Cleaning stuff. Practically servants. Her dad cuts grass, and her mom’s a maid.” I actually had a healthy respect for anyone who pulled a full day’s work, regardless of the job. People everywhere had to do crappy stuff to make a living.

"Another working class one," Jason joked, with Duke and Steph chanting "one of us, one of us."

But, much like with clothes, it became another matter altogether when someone was trying to pass herself off as something else. And in the week that I’d been here, I’d picked up on how desperately Mia wanted to fit in with the school elite. “No one knows,” I said thoughtfully.  “And she doesn’t want them to. You know how the royals are.” He paused. “Well, except for Lissa, of course. They’d give Mia a hard time over it.” I stopped to look at him, “How do you know all this?”  “My uncle’s a guardian for the Drozdovs.”  “And you’ve just been sitting on this secret, huh?”  “Until you broke me. So which path will you choose: good or evil?” “I think I’ll give her a grace—”

A woman was walking up to them, “Mr Hathaway, you know you aren’t supposed to be here.”

One of the dorm matrons stood over us, disapproval all over her face.  I hadn’t been joking when I said Mason thought like me. He could bullshit as well as I could. “We have a group project to do for our humanities class. How are we supposed to do it if Will is in isolation?”  The matron narrowed her eyes. “You don’t look like you’re doing work.”  I slid over the priest’s book and opened it at random. I’d placed it on the table when we sat down. “We’re, um, working on this.”  She still looked suspicious. “One hour. I’ll give you one more hour down here, and I’d better actually see you working.”

Tim snorted, muttering something no one else caught.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Mason straight-faced. “Absolutely.”

She wandered off from their table, still eyeing them. “My hero,” Will declared. But Mason just pointed at the book. “What is this?”
“Something the priest gave me. I had a question about the service.”  He stared at Will, astonished.  “Oh, stop it and look interested., Will has stopped looking at him turning to the book and skimming the index. “I’m trying to find some woman named Anna.”  Mason slid his chair over so that he was sitting right beside Will. “All right. Let’s „study.‟ ”

I found a page number, and it took me to the section on St. Vladimir, not surprisingly. We read through the chapter, scanning for Anna’s name. When we found it, the author didn’t have much to say about her. He did include an excerpt written by some guy who had apparently lived at the same time as St. Vladimir: And with Vladimir always is Anna, the daughter of Fyodor. Their love is as chaste and pure as that of brother and sister, and many times has she defended him from Strigoi who would seek to destroy him and his holiness. Likewise, it is she who comforts him when the spirit becomes too much to bear, and Satan’s darkness tries to smother him and weaken his own health and body. This too she defends against, for they have been bound together ever since he saved her life as a child. It is a sign of God’s love that He has sent the blessed Vladimir a guardian such as her, one who is shadow-kissed and always knows what is in his heart and mind.

"They had a bond," Bruce said, astonished. “There you go,” Mason said. “She was his guardian.”  “It doesn’t say what „shadow-kissed‟ means.”  “Probably doesn’t mean anything.”

Something in me didn’t believe that. I read it again, trying to make sense of the old-fashioned language. Mason watched me curiously, looking like he very much wanted to help.  “Maybe they were hooking up,” he suggested.  It shocked out a bout of laughter. “He was a saint.” “So? Saints probably like sex too. That ‘brother and sister’ stuff is probably a cover.” He pointed to one of the lines. “See? They were ‘bound’ together.” He winked. “It’s code.”  Bound. It was a weird word choice, but that didn’t necessarily mean Anna and Vladimir were ripping each other’s clothes off. Bound together and always knows what is in his heart and mind. They had a bond, I realized. I would have bet everything I owned—which wasn’t much—on it. The revelation was astonishing. There were lots of vague stories and myths about how guardians and Moroi ‘used to have bonds.’ But this was the first I’d ever heard of anyone specific that it had happened to.  Mason had noticed my startled reaction. “You okay? You look kind of weird.”  I shrugged it off. “Yeah. Fine.”

The mist then shut off, leaving Will just staring at the book. And leaving Bruce and the others staring into their sitting room.

Bruce started at the statue on the floor, before moving to stretch out, his older body creaking as he stands. He goes to grab the statue, carefully lifting it off the floor. 

1 week. 

He still had the phone in his pocket, had picked it up from where it was stored to carry it with him. He stopped in front of the glass box, automatically putting the statue in paying attention and noting it's placement. It sat upon some velvet.

Will's paranoia and his lack of information, he couldn't plan enough. Didn't know what would happen.

The phone joined the statue before it was locked up under several layers of security and squirreled away.

Chapter Text

The next week the vigilantes gathered again- well, a week and a half after the last viewing. An intergalactic crisis had pulled Batman from Earth for several days, and when he returned an Earth- ending event had welcomed him and several Gotham vigilantes had been wrapping up the takedown of a new drug. Any and all ideas for sitting down and watching the newest "still think he's technically the first" Batkid's life... no matter how much of an invasion of privacy it was.... was put on hold.

Many trudged through the Zeta into the Batcave, being greeted by Signal and Redhood being patched up and Cass waiting around, balancing on the edge of a cliff. Seeing the dirty and slightly exhausted gaggle of vigilantes come through, rapidly shedding their cowls and masks the moment they were in, with Tim and Dick disappearing into the showers- they had caught the worst of the explosion of gunk that had effectively ended the final stragglers of the demon bugs that had planted themselves in different areas of America, opening up fissures in the Earth as portals. Justice League Dark had managed to close the fissures pretty quickly, but so many had crawled out, that swarms of them like birds surged forward at the closest person. When they had been whittled down they made a final effort, crowding together into one final stream, they had been taken down by an explosive thrown into the center, resulting in Dick 'eww' ing the second he entered the cave and Tim looking so done trailing behind him.

Anyway, they were all looking forward to watching the life of Will as a reprieve, for a treat.

All meandering towards the sitting room closest to the office, Dicks hair wet on his face and Tim's hair dried so roughly it was sticking up everywhere. Jason had only got hit by a stray, cutting up the edge of his arm, and so he'd slinked into the room, moving to the closest seat and resting his head on the back once sat. Duke had his leg cut up pretty badly, so he was limping slightly behind Jason, stealing Dicks seat from him and yawning. Cass had entered..at some point taking the sofa, Steph falling down next to her, chucking a phone to Tim, who looked annoyed that she managed to steal it whilst he was away, thanking her sarcastically. Barbara followed Bruce in, filling in him on what he'd missed, the statue clenched in his hand. Damian was the last to enter,

They sat on the side of the room, watching Bruce position the statue to face them, it glowing constantly and repeatedly, as if excited and impatient to start the visions.

Bruce spoke, and it answered easily.

The first thing they see is Will flip someone – a girl, with long ginger curly hair- over, triggering a round of cheers from Dick who, at the silence that followed, quickly lost steam and quietened down. They then tear their judging eyes from him to Will, where he had turned out to be slammed on the floor.

The scene expands to the gym, and they see a teacher watch them out of the corner of their eye. All the students are wearing something on their chests, a shield for their chest, though its centered on the left side.

The teacher nods at them to go again, and they do, this time picking up wooden sticks. They go at each other, blocking and striking. He's holding up well, predicting many of her moves and protecting her chest, but she gets him with a solid strike to the chest, hitting him by sliding the wooden stick between his arms.

They go again, and the fight last longer but she manages to push him down and strike him dead center in his shield-
"His heart, she's staking his heart," Duke realises.

They go again and he manages to stake her, but then the next time Will gets distracted by something and she takes advantage of the split second to flip him over. He chuckles, staying on the ground. "You've improved," she says, " you can do much better though, come on up."

He shakes his head and when she raises her eyebrows he nods towards the teacher who's calling a break, "how did you?" She shakes her head, taking off the shield and sitting next to Will who hasn't moved.

Meredith, still the same badass I knew before. She'd chewed me out for leaving, not like others about recklessness or irresponsibility, but because I could have done better, planned it better, though there was an element of irritation at me for leaving. But it was all delivered sharply and sarcastically, the same way she'd talk to anyone who she needed to call out.
We'd been friends for awhile, we'd both came out at the same time, though it was more of a slip than an actually conscious thing. I'd barely been able to see anyone outside of classes, barely able to snatch any time to hang out with anyone -or just outside my room- because of Kirova. I had to play it smart. But I could easily admit I'd missed them.

I checked back in with Lissa, and the sudden feeling of sadness that had hit me earlier was gone, focusing I identified it as grief. She'd seen the plaque commemorating them.

"That's why he hesitated," Steph said, with Bruce noting it as a potential issue.
"Would have lost anyway," Cass refutes, shrugging.

Meredith and Will sat in silence for a second, before Will pushed himself up to grab his bottle, snatching Meredith's up as well and handing it to her, her nodding in thanks not breaking the silence. The teacher yelled five minutes, and Will started stretching a bit, the same stretches that Belikov had shown him. Meredith murmurs to him, lips barely moving, "We're planning on going to the outskirts of the wards in the woods, bit of a casual hangout, at like 3pm. Just wanted to let you know." She smiled at him, before the teacher clapped and they went back to sparring.

"3pm is the after-"
"Vampire schedule, its 3am for them."

In the past week and a bit I'd kept a watch out for any check in's, there was one guardian who'd walked the entrance and then would make the trip to the stairs and another who'd cover the other side when the other left. They'd switch, but there was a 10 minute window. And they'd never knock on the door, so as long as it was locked and never opened they never raised the alarm. I'm guessing Kirova wanted to ensure I was following her punishment, but Alec and Finn had enough on their plate watching the area, that checking on me was not a priority or necessary.

"Tick" Bruce looked over to see Tim had muttered under his breath, probably not realising he'd said it out loud. The tab, 'Bruceisms' has accrued a couple more tallies since the last time he'd seen. He ignored it.
"He knows their names," Jason notes, intrigue lacing his words.

The only benefit of this grounding was that it had allowed me to learn the names of all the new guardians to the best of my ability. I'd known most of them from living here majority of my life, but I'd missed three ish years; some had left being reassigned, one retired. Three died.

He'd managed to take Meredith down, striking cleanly. They'd been silenced by the reminder of how deadly Will's world was.

I'd missed their funerals.

The mist ended the scene with Will focused on the fight in front of him before spontaneously dissipating, shooting out into several fractures. With the vigilantes in a somber mood.

The fractures recollided collecting into a new scene. This time the sun was clearly in the sky, and Will was in his dorm room. He checked a clock, waiting for something, before smoothly opening the door and entering the hallway. He darts into an arch way and waits for the clear footsteps of one Guardian walking up the stairs, barely making it to the top before stepping back down. He followed him, several minutes behind before darting into another arch.

The vigilantes are confused, though their unasked questions are soon answered when the other guardian makes it up their stairs and are still visible. As he turns Will darts out and quickly makes his way towards a back entrance.

If it wasn't for the fact Kirova had put me in a room on the third floor I'd climb out and scale the wall. Then again, if there was more foot and hand holds, and some strong ledges I could probably make it. I'm not giving it to Kirova though, I don't think anyone thought it through that much.

Several vigilantes laugh at the dry voice that his thoughts had taken. The scene the skipped over his journey, revealing an area of woods basked in sunlight. Meredith, Mason and some other guy, "Eddie Castile," Tim supplied.

Will snuck up on them, moving around them before purposefully snapping a twig, Eddie and Mason jumped, though Meredith reminds them all that'll have is perhaps a reprimand for being out past curfew. "Tony is on duty today round here I think, he'll just shoo us along," Will finally says, emerging from the bushes.

Eddie mutters "Dick" under his breath but moves to let him sit down.

I missed this.

Will passed some food over to the group, "I'd made some food when Em let me in the kitchens, though I'd make it a late night feast."
The other three looked at him and he also brought out four bottles of juice. At their stares he pauses, "I rarely skip my leash, wanted to make the most of it."

The three look at him before jumping him with a hug, with them talking over each other, "miss you too", "Awww", "Softy."

It softened the gothamites hearts, it was good to know he had friends he could rely on. And watching the scene in front of them, with them relaxing and starting talking about their lessons and training easily, made them smile.

The conversation soon turned to Will extra sessions. Meredith teased Mason for his god comment, but turned to Will, "Lucky, you've got your own mentor-"
"He's not my mentor." He interrupt's voice short, and it snatches the vigilante's attention, at Meredith's dry look and Masons confusion he added, "I had a mentor."

Eddie already knew, we'd talked about it one summer week where the air was hot and sticky and Mason was with his family and Meredith with hers. It'd been after the funeral of the Dragomir's.

Bruce doesn't understand.

Mentor have a specific connotation. They aren't teacher's they're.. mentors. They take a position of authority over another Dhampir- a Novice. Train them, support them. They choose to work with a young Novice outside of school, suggesting they expect -and everyone else should expect- an amazing and lethal guardian. Dimitri's not some teacher who can punish me or order me. He's only 20, I'm pretty sure he's too young, though there isn't specific rules or qualifications. But he's just-

"He's just a tutor, someone who offered to help me out. Even if I didn't have a mentor, the idea of him being mine is just- eh." He mock shivers. The vigilantes watch enraptured.

I grabbed at my Italian charm bracelet, most plain silver though a few were patterned. I grazed over the one of a star. Memories nearer the surface than wanted right this second are threatening to break to my foremind, and i press harder on the charm as if i could physically push them further back. "I'd kill for him to mentor me, "Mason said voice a whisper, and though Eddie nods in support of me and looks at Mason, I answer his unasked question, "It is- was- Hendrick Dawes."

Another name, another loss. Bruce grieves for Will, for him loosing so much. He wasn't there.

We move on quickly, following a second stretched-too-far of silence, onto some random gossip of a Moroi relationship that had ended publicly, a stupid conversation that derailed as fast as it started, being followed by other things.

They scene faded slowly this time, forwarding to watch Will sneaking back in and getting into bed relaxed, falling asleep gently.

The Anna thing had been pushed to the back of my mind as this week had barely begun and I was getting my ass kicked in training. I'd managed to snag a few wins from training with Meredith yesterday, and today- following a nice run as training in the morning- I'd been able to be on even playing field with one of the lowest ranked novices in the group, though i hadn't been able to beat anyone cleanly in hand-to-hand combat yet. It made me embarrassed and pissed, but i pushed through.

He was in the cafeteria, finishing a plate and getting seconds, though the noticed how he worked to keep an eye of Lissa even when he separated from her.

The shock of our return had worn off a little, and we began to fall into a semi-comfortable routine. My days revolved around church (as i decided attending the daily services were the best time to stetch out my time away from my dorm), lunch with Lissa, and whatever sort of social life I could scrape together outside of that, like sneaking out yesterday. Denied any real free time, I didn’t have too hard a time staying out of the spotlight, although I did manage to steal a little attention and notice here and there, despite my noble speech to Lissa about “coasting through the middle.”

I couldn't help it. I'd missed hanging out with people my own age, and more importantly I'd missed hanging out with Dhampirs. I'd spent the time on the run speed running school, working and college, then just work once i graduated, saving what i could for Lissa to go to Uni, making enough for food and to live. The friends I'd made, were kind, and there for me, available for advice and commiseration, but my focus was Lissa- is Lissa. And that kind of dynamic was hard to explain. Being her guardian- or training to be.

The scene left Will rejoining the table, instead building a familiar room- "The apartment," Dick voices, "Flashback."

He was sitting there, with a notebook in front of him, muttering under his breath, "Rent is paid off, if i can make this stretch till next week i can put a little extra into savin-

He was cut off by the same person he was talking to at the party, "You need to get out more."

Will looks up, turning towards the sink were his friend was filling up a glass, "I get enough vitamin D, I'm just pale, and Lissa burns easy."

"No, you need to get out more, I know you're in charge of Lissa, but your 18, you should be getting plastered, meeting people- meeting guys."

Will breathes loudly, turning back, "It's hard to date when my priority is Liss, because you may see it as unhealthy, but that's how its going to be for the rest of our life." At his friends hard look he amends, "my protectiveness will lessen once she's 18, but she'll be the most important person in my life, and he- whoever he is- has to be comfortable being second, which most aren't. And that makes sense. It hard to explain."

And it is, no one understands it, and it hard to explain among Dhampirs and the Moroi world, let alone the human one here half the puzzle is missing. I just hope once she'd 18 they can't force her back even if they find her.

They change tactic "What's your type?" and Will looks at them, creasing his eyebrows, "I cannot tell what your feeling when you do that"

"BRUCE!" Jason yells, pointing between the scene, "We sure he isn't a clone?"

They don't take my silence as an answer, waiting for me to give in, so pushing my notebook away I start, "Not blonde, muscles that aren't like decorative, like actually are used, realistic, that make sense?" I looks over but keep adding, trying to make sense, "like not bodybuilders but actually muscles from running, real muscles."

His friends looks amused, but keeps pushing for Will to continue, stealing the notebook, flipping to a fresh page and writing down what Will's saying. "Has a sense of humour, understands me and, "he says locking eyes with his friend, "who accepts Lissa is a huge part of my life and i have a duty of care that isn't going to disappear." They nod.

"Anything else?"

I hesitate, "Accents." At their confusion I add, "has a cool accent, like mine". Pointing to me, "English, and my...mom... has a Scottish one, someone who was in charge of me had a slightly German accent, but only on certain words. I find them cool." I finish weakly, already trying to defend myself, which sets off my mate.

The scene ends with laughter fading back to the cafeteria.

"Accents," Duke snorts, with Steph laughing at something that doesn't seem to be solely because of the scene in front of her.

"He knows," Dick says, drawing Bruce's attention, "about his mom."

Tim nods to agree, "lots of little things add up."

Bruce grunts in acknowledgement. It doesn't answer if he knows who his parents are. There's no evidence he even suspects one of his parents is a human.

Will nudged Lissa, gesturing to her food.

Her new, incognito role attracted attention simply because it was so different than before we’d left, back when she’d been so active with the royals. Most people soon let that go, accepting that the Dragomir princess was fading off the social radar and content to run with Natalie and her group.

They watched as he played a practiced smile at the others on her table before focusing on his food and Lissa.

Natalie’s rambling still made me want to beat my head against a wall sometimes, but she was really nice—nicer than almost any of the other royals—and I enjoyed hanging around her most of the time.

The scene ended slowly, transition to a montage of sorts of what seemed like several days of training and lessons and stolen seconds of hanging out with his friends and other Novices.

Just as Kirova had warned, I was indeed training and working out all the time. But as more time passed, my body stopped hating me. My muscles grew tougher, and my stamina increased even more. I still got my ass kicked in practice but not quite as badly as I used to, which was something. The biggest toll now seemed to be on my skin. Being outside in the cold so much was chapping my face, and only Lissa’s constant supply of skin-care lotions kept me from aging before my time. She couldn’t do much for the blisters on my hands and feet. A routine also developed with Dimitri and me, one i came to enjoy as it was a way to start and end the day working out any annoyances or issues I'd had during the day. And the more I worked with him, the more I respected him too, though I didn’t really understand his training methods. They didn’t seem very badass. We always started by stretching in the gym, and lately he’d been sending me outside to run, braving the cold mountain autumn. The little amount of fight training we'd done- though it was mostly running- also helped me relax slightly as i could see he was skilled in fighting, so if it came to a fight he'd be a valuable fighter. He wouldn't be the worst to be Lissa's Guardian, for the moment.

The scenes then ended, though the smoke seemed to pause for a second, as if waiting for something. Bruce asked for the crystal to show more, but it didn't answer it just seemed to keep waiting.

Bruce decided to ask it something else, "show me Dimitri Belikov."

The mist answered eagerly, as if Bruce had answered correctly.

He's reading. Alone. In a room slightly larger than Will's with a larger bed in the middle of the wall instead of tucked in the corner. He has books stacked in the corner, overflow from the bookshelf, the titles too hazy to be read.

It's boring. And only tells Bruce surface level information. Cass is mildly intrigued, tilting her head slightly at the book he is, at what she can she.

It has been nearly a year since I was given the assignment of guarding Princess Vasilissa Dragomir, though I have not yet met Princess Vasilissa Dragomir. Reports from fellow Guardians report she was kind, social able, becoming more involved in the Moroi parties following the tragedy of the Dragomir family.

It was an honour, an assignment so coveted. To be assigned to someone so young, regardless of my reputation.

He scratched the back of his neck absently as he stood. And everyone was reminded of how young he was- "He's twenty right?"

The days are routine, as most guardian shifts are, Strigoi fights are rare for those who travel all the time, though Ivan seemed to have bad luck. In a school such as St Vladmir's, warded as often as it is, Strigoi simply do not get sighted often. Some Guardians go their entire life only seeing one or two Strigoi. My days are filled with patrol, training, and a few watches of lessons at the back as it is necessary for all guardians working at the school.

They watch him walking into the old gym, "This is from before the two were found, how much are we getting of him?" Tim questioned.

I only graduated two years ago, I don't need a refresher in training.

That drew out some chuckles.

The next scene was a car ride, he was alone.

Hathaway had been able to hide for years due to an assumption. Part of my was annoyed at how much focus we put into his description, another part impressed. It made sense to hide Princess Vasilissa Dragomir and be the one to make appearances, the princess is much more distinctive, Dhampirs can pass as humans easier at least to humans. We should have known better. He isn't a guardian, the expectation for him to use our training is an oversight.

"This is on the journey back, "Dick started, he-

Hopefully it will not be too difficult to now we have up to date information.

The voice of Belikov cut him off, but it set off a round of laughter, 'Not too difficult'. It took several months, and the trouble they had in finding them made part of Bruce smile. No training but still so skilled, even if aided by luck.

The mist folded into itself before bursting out and bathing them in darkness. It was that night. The night the two were found, but from his point of view. He's in the shadows in the dark, looking at the apartment.

We had finally found them. It had taken several months of searching, but we had tracked them down to England, which should have been a place of interest in the first place, but no one had believed they had managed to leave Europe. Of course he would have gone to Britain, his mother is Scottish.

"He doesn't know" Bruce states.

I had managed to scope out the building and see a light on for their apartment. He had used his first name for their apartment, obviously not expecting us to identify him, and extra layer of security.

From outside of what the mist was showing them, a guy shouted out "DIMITRI!" making the vigilantes turn to the side.

I turned instantly at the sound of my name, shooting a glare at the guardian -Laurance- approaching in the darkness. What was he thinking? Everyone out here tonight knew how essential secrecy was. It didn’t matter that he was young and simply excited about his first big mission. We had no room for errors, not when this was the only physical break we’d had in over a year, the information gained not helpful enough to result in their discovery quickly. It had been months since we learnt useful information, and this was the only lead that had lead to a full team deployment. Realizing his mistake, he grew apologetic, though not nearly enough.

Bruce grunted in agreement, and the vigilantes also frowned at the new figure who entered into the mist, “Sorry.” the new, younger Guardian dropped his voice to a stage whisper and tapped his ear. “Headset’s not working. We checked the house, and they’re already gone. They must have had warning, maybe a perimeter of spies on the streets.”

As his excitement returned, the young guardian began speaking rapidly. “I was thinking about it. They probably have a whole network of people working with them! It makes sense, right? How else have they managed to stay ahead of us for so long? There’s no telling how deep this conspiracy goes! We might be facing an army tonight!”

"An army?, He's that good they think their working with an army?" Jason laughed.

I said nothing and showed nothing as I mulled over his words. It was something of a mystery how a couple of teenagers had managed to escape detection for three years, especially when one of them was a privileged Moroi princess and the other a delinquent dhampir with a recent disciplinary file so long that it broke school records. When I’d been assigned Princess Vasilissa Dragomir, and learned the details of the princess’s case, I’d honestly been surprised the two hadn’t slipped up sooner. Being in league with others might explain how they’d remained hidden . . . and yet, in all our data gathering, we’d never once had even the slightest hint that they had one accomplice, let alone “a whole network” or “army.”

My silence made Laurence nervous, and he no longer smiled. “It’s irrelevant now,” I told him. “And there’s no point jumping to conclusions when—”

He paused, listening to something.

“Dimitri?” A female voice crackled in my earpiece. “We’ve got visuals on them. They’re approaching the intersection of Brown and Boudreaux, from the north.”

He set off without another word to Laurence, heading towards the street indicated. The mist moved with him, and everyone could hear Laurence running after him.

I tried to force calm as my heart rate increased, but it was difficult. This was it. This was it. We might finally have her: Vasiisa Dragomir, the missing princess, last of her line. Although I knew all guardian work was honorable—including the instruction of future guardians—part of me had longed for something more at St. Vladimir’s. I'd been assigned Prince Dragomir, many expecting her to return soon following an apparently promising lead, and when I learned how she’d escaped the school, I’d taken finding her as more than a professional project- but a personal one, pushing leads that others had said were hopeless.

Me? I didn’t believe in hopeless.

"I'm BATMAN, pushing leads no one else does-" Steph says pointing her fingers in an imitation of Batman's cowl

"The GREATEST detective," Duke mocks-

"for JUSTICE" Steph finishes.

He had slowed his pace as the intersection appeared, allowing Laurence to catch up. The vigilantes could just make out the dark shapes of other guardians lurking in shadows and behind objects.

This was the spot they’d chosen for the interception. Quickly, I stepped off the road and hid in the cover of a tree, urging Laurence to do the same with a jerk of my head. We didn’t have to wait long. As I peered around the tree’s edge, I saw two figures approaching, one practically dragging the other along. At first, I assumed it must be the stronger dhampir helping the princess, but as they grew closer, their heights and builds revealed that it was exactly the opposite.

I had no time to ponder this oddity. When they were about six feet from me, I quickly stepped out from the tree and blocked their path. They came to a halt, and whatever weaknesses the dhampir had now vanished. He grabbed the princess roughly by the arm and jerked her back, so that the dhampir’s own body served as a shield keeping me away. Around us, other guardians fanned out, taking defensive positions but not advancing without my command. The dhampir's brown eyes made note of them, but he kept his attention focused squarely on me.

The vigilantes watched at the scene played out the same as before.

I didn’t entirely know what to expect from him, maybe that he’d try to run away or beg for his freedom. Instead, he shifted into an even more defensive position in front of the princess and spoke in a voice that was barely more than a growl: “Leave her alone. Don’t touch her.”

The boy was hopelessly outmatched yet still defiant, as though I were the one at a disadvantage. In moments like these, I was glad my old instructors in Russia had grilled me into concealing my feelings—because I was surprised. Very surprised. And as I took this dhampir boy in, I suddenly understood with perfect clarity how they’d eluded us for so long. A network of accomplices? An army? Laurence was a fool. The princess didn’t need a network or army, not when she had this protector.

Will Hathaway.

The vigilantes were speechless, they didn't know what to say, though Steph was leaning forward and smiling, catching Cass's eyes before looking back at the scene.

There was a passion and intensity that radiated off of him, almost like a palpable thing. Tension filled every part of her body as he regarded me, reading me, daring me to make a move. He possessed a fierceness I hadn’t expected—that no one of the search party had expected, I realized, most likely because they couldn’t see past that delinquent record of his. But there was a look in his eyes now that said this was no joke, that he would die a thousand times over before she let anyone harm the princess at his back. He reminded me of a cornered wildcat, sleek and beautiful—but fully capable of clawing your face out if provoked.

It brought out some chuckles, with Dick mimicking a cat claws and hiss.

And, even in the poor lighting, I could see that he was beautiful—in a deadly way—and that struck me too. The drawings we had been given by the humans hadn’t done him justice. Short, dark hair framed a face filled with the sort of hard-edged beauty a man might easily dash his heart against. His eyes, though filled with determination, and hatred for me, still managed to be intriguing—which only added to his danger. He seemed to have a knowing look in his eye, like we don't know something. He might be unarmed, but Will Hathaway was in possession of many weapons.

"He is one of us, so you're child," Dick joked, whilst Jason mocked Bruce, "he has your eyes."

Bruce just grunted, staring at Dimitri.

I didn’t want to fight him and held out my hands in a placating gesture as I took a step forward. “I’m not going to—”

He attacked.

I saw it coming and wasn’t surprised by the action itself so much as that he’d even try it with the odds stacked against her. Should I have been surprised? Probably not. As I’d observed, it was clear that Will was willing to do anything and fight anyone to protect his friend. I admired that—I admired that a lot—but it didn’t stop me from striking out to block him. The princess was still my goal tonight. And although Will might have passion and defiance, his attack was clumsy and easy to deflect. He’d been gone too long from formal training. He recovered badly and started to fall, and I remembered how he’d stumbled earlier. Out of instinct, I reached out and caught him before she could hit the ground, keeping him steady on her feet. The shoulder of the jacket he had been wearing, darker than his hair, fell, revealing two bloody marks on the side of his neck.

Another surprise—but it explained his fatigue and pale complexion. Apparently his devotion to the princess went beyond just defense. Noticing my scrutiny, Will pulled some of his jacket back over his shoulder to cover the mark.

Despite the hopelessness of his situation, I could see his lithe body preparing for another attack. I tensed in response, even though I didn’t want this brave but wild guy to be my enemy. I wanted him as . . . what? I wasn’t sure. Something more than an outmatched scuffle on a British street. There was too much potential here. This guy could be unstoppable if his talents were properly cultivated. I wanted to help him.

Steph makes a small noise, and everyone around Bruce all start whispering, but he's just watching the scene again, watching Belikov and deducing as much as he can.

But I would fight him if I had to.

"Doesn't disqualify him," Tim whispers, and Bruce spares them a glance to see them betting on something. Looking back at the mist, Lissa has grabbed Will's hand, "Will. Don’t.”

For a moment, nothing happened, and we all stood frozen. Then, slowly, the tension and hostility eased out of Will's body. Well, not all of the hostility. There was still a dangerous glint in his eyes that kept me on guard. The rest of his body language said that although he hadn’t exactly admitted defeat , he had conceded to a truce—so long as I gave him no cause for alarm.

I didn’t plan to. I also don’t plan on ever underestimating you again, wild novice, I thought, momentarily locking eyes with him. And I’ll make sure no one else ever underestimates you either.

Satisfied that he was pacified—at least momentarily—I dragged my eyes from his dark gaze and focused on the princess. After all, runaway or not, Vasilisa Dragomir was the last of a royal line, and certain protocols had to be followed. I bowed before her.

“My name is Dimitri Belikov. I’ve come to take you back to St. Vladimir’s Academy, Princess.”

The mist focused on him bowing before refocusing to him at St Vladmirs, walking to catch up to Will.

That earlier lesson was needless.

Guardian Alto's spectacle was not necessary. That particular lesson could have- should have- been handled privately.

"Oh, we're watching his point of view after that lesson," Jason noted, moving to block Dicks view and starting a petty fight "I just want to see better, Dick."

"I can tell when you're not using my name, and you need to slouch, you're too damn tall."

"I know."

He had fallen into step with Will, and the scene started the same, with Will asking "I suppose you saw what happened in Stan's class?"

I did, "Yes."

"And you don't think it was unfair?" In his delivery, yes, in the message no, but instead i asked “Was he right? Do you think you were fully prepared to protect Vasiisa?”

They watched Will look down at the ground, a perfect repeat of the last time they watched it. But this time, they were focusing on Belikov, on his actions and expressions.

“If you can’t fight them—” “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Will snapped, defensive and wounded. I slowed my stride to match his slower pace, and tried to look him in the eyes, I had watched him in the next training class, and he was outmatched, behind in training. But he is determined, and his stamina seem to be on par- if not in the higher part of the class, “You’re strong and fast by nature. You just need to keep yourself fighting trained. Didn’t you play any sports while you were gone?”

He gave me a non committed answer and I was confused, I couldn't imagine not training hours a day- both for the practice it gave me, but for the outlet, for the control,  “You didn’t join any teams?”

His eyes were focused in front of us, though i saw him scanning the area every now and then, "Too much work. Wasn't enough hours in the day.”

What could be more important than training to be able to keep a Moroi safe? I thought, and it must have showed on my face because he added, nonchalantly, "I was working several jobs."

I stopped, none of us had thought they would do that, assuming they would run away to enjoy human parties, not taking anything serious, "you didn't use her inheritance?" It made sense why we hadn't been able to use it to trace them, I assumed we just weren't able to access it, or that they'd just taken out a large sum right as they ran away, making tracing it useless. If he'd been working to support them, I looked at him with a new found respect again- there's more than one way to protect people. I kept underestimating him.

Bruce suddenly realised something- "that's the point, that's the plan."

The vigilantes sat up, alert, "he wants them to underestimate him, to help him be able to escape, they already realised he was able to escape, they're keeping an eye of him, if they assume him to be lazy, uninterested, moody, volatile-"

"They're more likely to slip up. It's like a persona," Barbara added, smirking at Will, who had turned around but kept walking, moving out of the way of others.

So he does have some situational awareness, is it natural talent or training? He answered me offended looking me in my eyes, "that's her inheritance," he paused, "and it'd leave a trace." He really cares for her. Like I did with Ivan.

"That was his past charge, right?"

I caught up in seconds, him turning back around as I hesitated, I kept assuming I could read him, that i had understood him. I exhaled before beginning, “You’ll never be able to really protect the princess if you don’t hone your skills. You’ll always be lacking.”

“I’ll be able to protect her,” he said fiercely, though it seemed his face betrayed little, his eyes the only indicator of his true feelings, burning “You have no guarantees of being assigned to her, you know—for your field experience or after you graduate.” My voice was low but unapologetic, it's the truth, if he wanted to protect her he had to get better, "No one wants to waste the bond—but no one’s going to give her an inadequate guardian either. If you want to be with her, then you need to work for it. You have your lessons. You have me. Use us or don’t. You’re an ideal choice to guard Vasilisa when you both graduate—if you can prove you’re worthy. I hope you will.”

“Lissa, call her Lissa,” was the end of it, and I walked off.

As he walked off , they saw him smile slightly to himself.

"We haven't seem him around other guardians, baring the mission, he's been on his own," Duke breaks the silence.

"he lost his friend, image if Will lost Lissa," Jason says, before pausing, no one really wants to imagine it.

He is already so much like Bruce, that would likely push him over the edge.

"he's also 20, much younger than the rest, and remember what that kid said, 'antisocial God'" Steph huffs out a laugh, trying to lift the mood,

The mist seems to listen to their conversation and create a montage of him training. Alone. Reading. Alone. And when he does go to the bar, or hang out with other Guardians in more informal situations, he barely speaks, instead sitting in the corner and reading.

Almost as if the montage was a loading screen, a final scene appears of him in the gym, watching Will leave.

Something had changed.

Between leaving him at lunch, and now, he seemed to be more determined to try. He seems less uncertain. I had caught him talking with Lissa before the training session where she seemed to send an encouraging smile to his back when he left.

And then he went into her head- i didn't know the bonds could achieve that, i had never heard anything in the stories. It was surprisingly terrifying to see him freeze, to look into his eyes and see nothing there. But he said she was fine and I did believe him. He cared for her.

He made a joke at the beginning of the session, but followed instructions easy enough. The training was uneventful, except-

"Except what? Nothing really happened did it? Did we miss something?"

Psi Hounds. I can't imagine Guardian Petrov would allow Psi Hounds to be sent off without informing me, but the Moroi could have possibly made an attempt without sharing with us.

Especially if they did not find anything.

It would be impressive, if they did cross Psi Hounds and managed to avoid them, though i noticed he rub his upper thigh when he said so, is that a nervous tick? Was he lying? But why would he?

As the session went one, I found him becoming more frustrated with himself, and when he noticed some students he seemed to fold in on himself.

The scene then seems to come to life, he was still breathing slightly heavily, sweat running down his back turning his shirt grey, but he left in a strong march a destination clear in his mind.

He enters a Guardian staff area, looking around before zeroing his eyes on his target- Guardian Alto.

He walks over there, and the guardians fall silent.

"What the hell was that display this morning Alto? That was unecessary." He grinds out, still breathing heavily.

I can barely contain my anger. Training with him, seeing how he learns and takes on criticism and corrects himself is inspiring, but then he faults and hesitates and i saw him mumbling to himself with Alto's words this morning.

The vigilantes were shocked at the anger he was displaying.

Guardian Alto seems to take it as the attack it is, and puffs up, "he needed to hear it, it was stupid to leave. I had to get through to him, especially as all he seems to care about is trying again."

I had to exaggerate my breathing slightly, to fight to stay in control. From my peripheral I can see the other guardians not even attempt to hide their curiosity or excitement.

The vigilantes focus on the others around the room, and manage to hear someone murmur, "I've never seen him act like this," and another nod in reply.

"He needed to hear what you said, but he has faced nothing but judgement and scolding since he returned, on top of trying to catch up on three years of lessons. He knows he put the Princess in danger, but he worked hard -outside of the school- to keep her safe, and is working hard to make up for it. Have you talked to Andrew? he managed to complete school two years earlier, and was working several jobs to support them. His main goal is the Princess's protection, our job is to teach him how best he can protect her- which includes teaching him how stupid and wrong it was to take her out of the wards. My main issue is how you delivered the lesson, why did you deliver it in public, instead of in private?" I grit out the last few words. The public humiliation wasn't necessary, and the juvenile part of me believes he did it to see Will suffer. And i watch as he goes to defend himself, but he looks at me, see's something that makes him concede, "you're right. I was out of line. It won't happen again."

I stare at him longer to make sure he isn't being sarcastic. That he's not taking me seriously, but i find none and so turn to leave, leaving a round of whispers behind.

"i want to change my bet," Tim whispers, and Barbara opens up something on her computer, announcing, "Final amendments, then its closed," setting off several hushed conversations.

"Bets?" Bruce grunts, though they all wave him away. He studies the crystal, but it seems to be finished showing them anything, and so they all start dissipating, leaving him in the cave securing the stand, crystal- and phone- back where it belongs. The sand had only fallen millimeters, several granules on the bottom but millions still in the top area. 

He still had ages to go before he could see his son. He would take what he could. 

Chapter Text

They all manage to meet up half a week later- back to normal schedule- no end of the world or universe or Gotham to take over their lives. Settling down into the sitting room of the week- a blue one with painted flowers sprouting over the walls. The wood is light, brightening up the area and complimenting the dusty blue of the furniture. The seats and sofas are all slightly different shades, creating a medley of hues matching the wallpaper.

They pushed the furniture over to the side in front of the large window, the morning sun peering through the light curtains casting a golden glow over everyone. They settle down, sagging in the comfy sofas with large electrolyte filled drinks, fighting against muscle cramps and coming down from the adrenaline that follows them from patrol. There's a hushed blanket of conversation falling over the room as they all wait for Bruce to set up the stand and crystal.

"Show me Will Hathawa-"

The mist did not even wait for him to finish before bursting into action, clearly showing Will walking into the same gym, he'd been training with Dimitri in. The sun was barely starting to set, making it morning for the hidden world. He entered to Dimitri reading and the sound of music playing from a portable speaker that had been brought in. Will stopped to stare at him for a second before tossing his bag to the side.

Three weeks after my return to the Academy, I walked into the gym before school one day and found him sprawled on a mat, reading a Louis L’Amour book. Someone had brought in a portable CD player, and the song playing from it made me stop and laugh internally. "When doves cry" by Prince. Guess im not the only one into old music.

Laughter came easily to the group with Bruce smiling at his son, Kate likes 80's stuff as well. He'd managed to call her to tell her about the newest child, and she'd planned to visit soon, though whether that meant before he would be able to actually meet his son or after he didn't know.

When he looks up at me, he spots me looking at the player, “The music won't matter to you. I’m the one who’s going to be listening to it. You’ll be outside running.”  I made a face as I set my foot up on one of the bars and stretched my hamstrings. All things considered, Dimitri had a good-natured tolerance for my sarcasm and dry attempts at humour.  So long as I didn’t slack in my training, he didn’t mind my running commentary.

As they hear Wills running thoughts they see him continue stretching.

He'd had me running since we started these training sessions, and it was the one part where I felt more confident in my skils. I'd managed to keep up with it whilst on the run. But still, “Hey,” I asked, moving on to the next set of stretches, “what’s with all the running, anyway? I mean, I realize the importance of stamina and all that, but shouldn’t I be moving on to something with a little hitting? They’re still killing me in group practice.”  “Maybe you should hit harder,” he replied drily.

Will just looks at him still reading his book on the floor. Dimitri set the book down but didn’t move from his sprawl. “My job is to get you ready to defend the princess and fight dark creatures, right?” Will doesn't answer. “So tell me this: suppose you manage to kidnap her again and take her off to the mall. While you’re there, a Strigoi comes at you. What will you do?”

Kidnap, as if she's someone's kid, her parents are dead.

Ouch, Bruce and Dick flinch at his thoughts. Steph spoke up, as if she'd only just realised it, "isn't he training Will to replace him?" As they turn to look at her she just looks confused and shrugs, gesturing to the scene in front of them.

“Depends on what store we’re in.” He looked at me. It matters, the layout of the store, if there's more than one exit. I imagine a store one way in, one way out, a couple of racks. “Fine. I’ll stab him with a silver stake.”  Dimitri sat up now, crossing his long legs in one fluid motion. I still couldn’t figure out how someone so tall could be so graceful.

“Oh?” He raised his dark eyebrows. “Do you have a silver stake? Do you even know how to use one?” Will dragged his eyes away from Dimitris body and scowled.

Made with elemental magic, silver stakes were a guardian’s deadliest weapon. Stabbing a Strigoi through the heart with one meant instant death. The blades were also lethal to Moroi, so they weren’t given out lightly to novices.

Everyone took note of that, remembering the concealed weapon the guardians had in the watchtower and the drawing of a 'giant toothpick' that Bruce had also sealed away behind so many layers of protection. "Wouldn't stabbing anyone with a metal stake be deadly?" Duke joked.

My classmates had just started learning how to use them. I’d trained with a gun before, but no one would let me near a stake yet. Fortunately, there were two other ways to kill a Strigoi. “Okay. I’ll cut his head off.”  “Ignoring the fact that you don’t have a weapon to do that, how will you compensate for the fact that he probably be a taller than you?” I hate how short i am, 5'5 isn't the worst, Janine Hathaway is 5"2, so if i was- if i had 'inherited' her height i could have been shorter. Though it had advantages hiding, fighting strigoi, stronger and often always taller was a bitch.  I straightened up from touching my toes, annoyed. “Fine, then I’ll set him on fire.” “Again, with what?” I'm going to be picking up a lighter and carrying it with me at all times from now on.

"God he's so you." Jason barks. It'd been the most consistent time he'd visit, and Bruce enjoyed it, even if it was Jason revelling in the irony and making fun of him.

“All right, I give up. You’ve already got the answer. You’re just messing with me. I’m at the mall and I see a Strigoi. What do I do?”  He looked at me and didn’t blink. “You run.”  I repressed the urge to throw something at him. How'd that help is Lissa was there? And then i nearly kick myself for assuming we'd been trapped in, he hadn't said that.

When Will finished his stretches, Belikov stood and told Will he’d run with him.

That was a first. Maybe running would give me some insight into his killer reputation.  We set out into the chilly October evening. Being back on a vampiric schedule still felt weird to me. With school about to start in an hour, I expected the sun to be coming up, not down. But it was sinking on the western horizon, lighting up the snow-capped mountains with an orange glow. It didn’t really warm things up, and I soon felt the cold pierce my lungs as my need for oxygen deepened. We didn’t speak. He slowed his pace to match mine, so we stayed together.  

They watch as they begin to run, though it soon speeds up, but no one could discern how much, and what was just "Damphire" enhanced ability. It itched at Bruce. The lack of information they had about their strengths- the lack of information in their world in general.

Something about that bothered me; I suddenly very much wanted his approval. So I picked up my own pace, working my lungs and muscles harder. Twelve laps around the track made three miles; we had nine more to go.

The scene was still sped up, though it quickly slowed back to normal speed when some other people could be spotted in the horizon.

When we reached the third-to-last loop, a couple of other novices passed by, preparing to go to the group practice I’d soon be at as well. Seeing me, Mason cheered. “Good form, Will!”  I smiled and waved back. I'd been able to snatch some time away from my grounding to hang out with my friends but also to hang out with the novices in general, the difference in the way i was treated before transitioning probably only noticed to me. I was one of the guys, even if some did still flirt.

"He's slowing down slightly," Duke noticed. Will was still running, still faster than a jog but his pace was slower than before, noticeable to the vigilantes- and as it seemed Belikov.

“You’re slowing down,” Dimitri snapped, jerking Will's gaze from the guys. The harshness in his voice startled them, making the vigilantes frown and Steph tilt her head to the side. “Is this why your times aren’t getting any faster? You’re easily distracted?”

Embarrassed, and annoyed, I increased my speed once more, despite the fact that my body started screaming obscenities at me. We finished the twelve laps, and when he checked, he found we’d shaved two minutes off my best time.  “Not bad, huh?” I crowed when we headed back inside for cool-down stretches. “Looks like I could get far before the Strigoi got me at the mall. Not sure how Lissa would do.” I frowned, looking back at him as if he'd have an answer to that.

“If she was with you, she’d be okay.” Will was shocked, jolting slightly whilst walking, the same way Bruce and Damian sometimes do when surprised.

It was the first real compliment he’d paid me since I started training with him. His brown eyes watched me, both approving and amused.  And that’s when it happened.  I felt like someone had shot me.

Everyone froze at that. The scene in front of them didn't wait for them to recover, it switched to as if they were running. It was disorientating.

Sharp and biting, terror exploded in my body and in my head. Small razors of pain. My vision blurred, and for a moment, I wasn’t standing there. I was running down a flight of stairs, scared and desperate, needing to get out of there, needing to find…me.

The smoke than snapped back to Will, leaving them reeling.

My vision cleared, leaving me back on the track and out of Lissa’s head. Without a word to Dimitri, I tore off, running as fast as I could toward the Moroi dorm. It didn’t matter that I’d just put my legs through a mini-marathon. They ran hard and fast, like they were shiny and new. Distantly, I was aware of Dimitri catching up to me, asking me what was wrong. But I couldn’t answer him. I had one task and one alone: get to the dorm.  Its looming, ivy-covered form was just coming into view when Lissa met up with us, her face streaked with tears.

They all noted how far he'd been able to run crossing a huge area of the Academy, and how quickly he'd done so. Bruce was impressed and proud, though it did little to cut through the confusion, worry and pure frustration. This had already happened, he reminded himself. But then he started wondering, if something did happen, would they be informed?

The phone had ended up in his hand, it gripped tightly in his fist.

I came to a jarring stop, my lungs ready to burst.  “What’s wrong? What happened?” I demanded, clutching her arms, forcing her to look into my eyes.  But she couldn’t answer. She just flung her arms around me, sobbing into my chest. I held her there, stroking her sleek, silky hair while I told her it was going to be all right—whatever “it‟ was. And honestly, I didn’t care what it was just then. She was here, and she was safe, which was all that mattered. Dimitri hovered over us, alert and ready for any threat, his body coiled to attack.

The vigilantes had been able to breath at Lissa's presence in front of them, though her sobs rattled them. "Is this why, they left?" Tim broke their silence. "We don't know what happened," Was Bruce's flat response, but his fist was clenched on his knee and his jaw was tense. His other hand had reached into his pocket where he had stashed the phone at the same time as grabbing the statue.

I felt safe with him beside us.

They all shouted when the scene went grey, just smoke filling the area. Blinking again a dorm room was filling the area. Though they couldn't see much, the backs of several people to the vigilantes.

A half hour later, we were crammed inside Lissa’s dorm room with three other guardians, Ms. Kirova, and the hall matron. This was the first time I’d seen Lissa’s room. Natalie had indeed managed to get her as a roommate, and the two sides of the room were a study in contrasts. Natalie’s looked lived in, with pictures on the wall and a frilly bedspread that wasn’t dorm-issue. Lissa had as few possessions as I did, making her half noticeably bare. She did have one picture taped to the wall, a picture taken from last Halloween, when we’d dressed up like fairies, complete with wings and glittery makeup. Seeing that picture and remembering how things used to be made a dull pain form in my chest.  With all the excitement, no one seemed to remember that I wasn’t supposed to be in there.

He was still consoling Lissa, who's head was buried in his shoulder.

Outside in the hall, Moroi girls crowded together, trying to figure out what was going on. Natalie pushed her way through them, wondering what the commotion in her room was. When she discovered it, she came to a screeching halt.

The scene then moved for the vigilantes to the side, the corner of the dorm, so they could see what everyone was looking at.

Shock and disgust showed on almost everyone’s faces as we stared at Lissa’s bed. There was a fox on the pillow. Its coat was reddish-orange, tinged in white. It looked so soft and cuddly that it could have been a pet, perhaps a cat, something you’d hold in your arms and snuggle with. Aside from the fact that its throat had been slit.

The vigilantes paused at the sight, " that's not normal moroi bullying is it?" Tim asks stupidly.

"is it rich kid bullying?" Steph retorts, and Tim shakes his head. Damian is angry, jaw tense, hands clenched into fists. He looks away.

The inside of the throat looked pink and jellylike. Blood stained that soft coat and had run down onto the yellow bedspread, forming a dark pool that spread across the fabric. The fox’s eyes stared upward, glazed, over with a sort of shocked look about them, like the fox couldn’t believe this was happening.  Nausea built up in my stomach, but I forced myself to keep looking. I couldn’t afford to be squeamish. I’d be killing Strigoi someday. If I couldn’t handle a fox, I’d never survive major kills. And maybe it had some clue.

Damian was looking angrier by the second. Dick, eyebrows furrowed in disgust, moved forward to force his hands apart, noting the crescent marks.

What had happened to the fox was sick and twisted, obviously done by someone too fucked up for words. Lissa stared at it, her face death-pale, and took a few steps toward it, hand involuntarily reaching out. This gross act hit her hard, I knew, digging at her love of animals. She loved them, they loved her.

"you and her will get along, Damian," Bruce grits out, teeth still clenched too tight.

While on our own, she’d often begged me for a pet, but I’d always refused and reminded her we couldn’t take care of one when we might have to flee at a moment’s notice. Plus, they hated me. So she’d contented herself with helping and patching up strays she found and making friends with other people’s pets, like Oscar the cat.  She couldn’t patch this fox up, though. There was no coming back for it, but I saw in her face she wanted to help it, like she helped everything. I took her hand and steered her away, suddenly recalling a conversation from two years ago.

They all released the tension grasping to their frames when the scene turns around to face the people, the bed fading behind them.

“What is that? Is it a crow?”  “Too big. It’s a raven.”  “Is it dead?”  “Yeah. Definitely dead. Don’t touch it.”

"What's happening?" Dick asks.

She hadn’t listened to me back then. I hoped she would now.  “It was still alive when I got back,” Lissa whispered to me, clutching my arm. “Barely. Oh God, it was twitching. It must have suffered so much.”  I felt bile rise in my throat now. Under no circumstances would I throw up. “Did you—?”  “No. I wanted to…I started to…”  “Then forget about it,” I said sharply. “It’s stupid. Somebody’s stupid joke. They’ll clean it up. Probably even give you a new room if you want.” She turned to me, eyes almost wild. “Will…do you remember…that one time…”  “Stop it,” I said. “Forget about it. This isn’t the same thing.” “What if someone saw? What if someone knows?…” She had grabbed my arm, digging her nails in and i dont flinch,tightening my grip on her arm, digging my nails in to get her attention. She flinched. “No. It’s not the same. It has nothing to do with that. Do you hear me?” I could feel both Natalie and Dimitri’s eyes on us.

"What the hell is going on?" Jason demanded, but no one could answer.

“It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”  Not looking like she believed me at all, Lissa nodded.  “Get this cleaned up,” Kirova snapped to the matron. “And find out if anyone saw anything.”  

Someone finally realized Will was there and ordered Dimitri to take him away, no matter how much Will begged them to let him stay with Lissa. It broke their hearts. They watched as the scene skipped froward.

He didn’t speak until we were almost there at the novice dorms where I'd been ordered to return to to clean up. “You know something. Something about what happened. Is this what you meant when you told Headmistress Kirova that Lissa was in danger?”

Will face is nearly flat, though his jaw is tense. He looks around. “I don’t know anything. It’s just some sick joke.”  “Do you have any idea who’d do it? Or why?”

I considered this. Before we’d left, it could have been any number of people. That was the way it was when you were popular. People loved you, people hated you. But now? Lissa had faded off to a certain extent. The only person who really and truly despised her was Mia, but Mia seemed to fight her battles with words, not actions. And even if she did decide to do something more aggressive, why do this? She didn’t seem like the type. There were a million other ways to get back at a person.

“No,” Will told him. “No clue.” “Will, if you know something, tell me. We’re on the same side. We both want to protect her. This is serious.” Will turned to look at him, eyes fiery.

Taking my anger over the fox out on him, I grit out “Yeah, it is serious. It’s all serious. And you have me doing laps every day when I should be learning to fight and defend her! If you want to help her, then teach me something! Teach me how to fight. I already know how to run away.”  I didn’t realize until that moment how badly I did want to learn, how I wanted to prove myself to him, to Lissa, and to everyone else. The fox incident had made me feel powerless, and I didn’t like that. I wanted to do something, anything.  Dimitri watched my outburst calmly, with no change in his expression. When I finished, he simply beckoned me forward like I hadn’t said anything. “Come on. You’re late for practice.”

The scene rebuilt minutes later, him changing out of his clothes that were still sweaty from this morning training and tinged slightly pink with blood. As he changed, the vigilantes clocked a scar on his upper thigh-

"Is that a bite mark?" Jason asked.

"Psi- Hounds," Damian answered, "that's where he touched after talking about them with Dashkov. He must have been attacked."

They didn't have much time to speculate on the allusions to an attack they must have been apart on whilst on the run because the mist switched to Wills next lesson- training practice- though they were only observing the end of it, as they were all walking out.

Burning with anger, I fought harder and better that day than I ever had in any of my classes with the novices. So much so that I finally won my first hand-to-hand pairing, annihilating Shane Reyes. We’d always gotten along, and he took it good-naturedly, applauding my performance, as did a few others.  “The comeback’s starting,” observed Mason after class.

Everyone was proud at the achievement, though they all noticed that though he fought with the proper technique, anger had made his rougher than he'd been before in the last training scenes.

“So it would seem.” Will said stiffly. Mason looked at him and gently touched Will's arm. “How’s Lissa?”

"News travels fast, " Tim joked. "Rich kids ain't got nothing better to do," Jason replied, Steph and Duke nods exaggerated, making sure the others saw them. Tim rolled his eyes and pushed Jason, starting a tiny scuffle.

It didn’t surprise me that he knew. Gossip spread so fast around here sometimes, it felt like everyone had a psychic bond.  “Okay. Coping.” I didn’t elaborate on how I knew that. Our bond was a secret from the student body.

“Mase, you claim to know about Mia. You think she might have done that?” Will was still walking, glancing over to him. Mason stopped, looking shocked before moving to catch up, talking quietly, “Whoa, hey, I’m not an expert on her or anything. But honestly? No. Mia won’t even do dissections in biology. I can’t picture her actually catching a fox, let alone, um, killing it.”

"Someone else could have done it for her," Bruce says thinking out loud, Tim nodding along.

“Any friends who might do it for her?" He shook his head. “Not really. They’re not really the types to get their hands dirty either. But who knows?”

"Twins," Dick mock sang. It was clear Will was smart and able to think several steps ahead, but he was untrained and undisciplined. With vigilante detective training, 'the Batective course' Dick was excited to see how much stronger Wills natural skills could become. They were looking forward to meeting him, and looking at the others, even Damian was invested in Wills life, studiously watching the scene in front of him, as if he stared hard enough he could peel back layers and learn more, a look mirrored in Tim's eyes, eyes flittering between the scene and his laptop screen taking notes.

They watched the scene lead into the cafeteria, Will picking up heaps of food for his plate, snatching another yogurt in his off hand and plopping it on Lissa's tray.

Lissa was still shaken when I met her for lunch later, her mood made worse when Natalie and her crew wouldn’t shut up about the fox. Apparently Natalie had overcome her disgust enough to enjoy the attention the spectacle had brought her. Maybe she wasn’t as content with her fringe status as I’d always believed.

Voices filtered through, “And it was just there,” Natalie explained, waving her hands for emphasis. “Right in the middle of the bed. There was blood everywhere.” Damian tutted, whilst Steph scrunched her nose.

Lissa looked as green as the sweater she wore, and I pulled her away before I even finished my food and immediately launched into a string of obscenities about Natalie’s social skills.  “She’s nice,” Lissa said automatically. “You were just telling me the other day how much you liked her.”  “I do like her, but she’s just incompetent about certain things.” 

They all nodded, Duke joking, "Even Damian had better social awareness when he first arrived," and Tim's head shot up, "And he tried- but failed- to kill me." Damian glared at him, and Tim, maturely, stuck his tongue out, leading Damian to tut. Bruce kept his eyes on the two walking and grunted, sending Jason off into a quick chuckle, "wonder whats his thing."

Dick craned his neck backwards to look at Jason, and he gestured to Damian and Bruce, than Will. "Bruce mono-syllable grunts, Damian's tuts, what's Wills?" Dick hmmmed, looking back at the mist and tilting his head unnaturally to the side.

We stood outside our animal behavior class, and I noticed people giving us curious looks and whispering as they passed. I sighed. “How are you doing with all this?”  A half-smile crossed her face. “Can’t you already feel it?”  “Yeah, but I want to hear it from you.”

"Thats good practice," Duke notes, "not relying on the 'bond'."

“I don’t know. I’ll be okay. I wish everyone wouldn’t keep staring at me like I’m some kind of freak.”  My anger exploded aga in, something dark and deep unfolding.

Bruce frowned.

The fox was bad. People upsetting her made it worse, but at least I could do something about them. “Who’s bothering you?”  “Will, you can’t beat up everyone we have a problem with.”  I wasn't going to beat them up, just creep them out. Stalk them, maybe act more like a Moroi and spread rumours, I know not all things can be dealt with a fight.

Everyone turned to look at Bruce, Tim adding like fifty tallies to that page, staring right into his eyes. Bruce went to to grunt but stopped himself. Will stares blankly at her, “Mia?” he guessed.  “And others,” she said evasively. “Look, it doesn’t matter. What I want to know is how this could have…that is, I can’t stop thinking about that time—”

“Don’t,” Will warned quietly. 

“Why do you keep pretending that didn’t happen? You of all people. You made fun of Natalie for going on and on, but it’s not like you’ve got a good grip on your control switch. You’ll normally talk about anything.” 

“But not that. We need to forget about it. It was a long time ago. We don’t even really know what happened.”  She stared at him with those her green eyes, calculating her next argument.

"Do we finally get to learn what they are talking about? Keeping things from us, just like you Bruce."

"...We're watching him, he has no clue, he's not keeping things from us," Tim said slowly, Jason turning to look at him. Tim just smirks at him.

“ Hey, Will.”  Our conversation dropped as Jesse strolled up to us. I turned on my best smile.  “Hey.”  He nodded cordially to Lissa. “So hey, I’m going to be in your dorm tonight for a study group. You think…maybe…”  Momentarily forgetting Lissa, I focused my full attention on Jesse. Suddenly, I so needed to do something wild and bad, needed to burn this anger and feeling out of me. Too much had happened today.

Cass sat up, laser focused on Will. Bruce noticed and sent a look to he. Next to her, Duke froze, also looking at Will, "Woah, that's...weird."

"What?" The mist paused.

Duke couldn't even move his eyes off Will, "his aura, it's dark, like he's surrounded by night, shadows."

"You can see it?"

"its been blurry, out of focus- all of the aura's have been, but even faded his just like erupted in darkness. But its also like the mist," he waved over the scene in front, that was still paused, "just put it into focus for me."

Cass speaks up, "feeling, not him."

"What?" Bruce asks again, becoming slightly more panicked, "mind control?"

Cass shakes her head, "not in control, feeding from his emotions," she hesitates glancing at Jason.

Bruce noticed. So did Jason, "The Lazarus pits? Are you saying-"
She shakes her head again, "similar not the same, it's as if his emotions are being built up, fed, making him act less in control. He is ok, its not as...dramatic, "she frowns, "as bad? For him, its just...there. I'll keep an eye on it."

Bruce stares at her for another few seconds, before jerkily nodding and turning back to the mist, "continue...please."

“ Sure.”  He told me when he’d be there, and I told him I’d meet him in one of the common areas with “further instructions.” Lissa stared at me when he left. “You’re under house arrest. They won’t let you hang out and talk to him.”  “I don’t really want to “talk‟ to him. We’ll slip away.” 

Dick winced, and the other vigilantes were confused, Tim having stopped typing to just stare.

Lissa groaned. “I just don’t know about you sometimes.”  “That’s because you’re the cautious one, and I’m the reckless one.” was the end of the conversation.

Once animal behavior started, I pondered the likelihood of Mia being responsible. From the smug look on her psycho-angel face, she certainly seemed to be enjoying the sensation caused by the bloody fox. But that didn’t mean she was the culprit, and after observing her over the last couple of weeks, I knew she’d enjoy anything that upset Lissa and me. She didn’t need to be the one who had done it. 

They were sitting in another classroom though it was more a lecture hall, the teacher was standing at the front “Wolves, like many other species, differentiate their packs into alpha males and alpha females whom the others defer to. Alphas are almost always the strongest physically, though many times, confrontations turn out to be more a matter of willpower and personality. When an alpha is challenged and replaced, that wolf may find himself ostracized from the group or even attacked.” 

I looked up from my daydreams and focused on Ms. Meissner, “Most challenges are likely to occur during mating season,” she continued. This, naturally, brought snickers from the class.

“In most packs, the alpha pair are the only ones who mate. If the alpha male is an older, seasoned wolf, a younger competitor may think he has a shot. Whether that is true works on a case-by-case basis. The young often don’t realize how seriously outclassed they are by the more experienced.” 

The old-and-young-wolf thing notwithstanding, I thought the rest was pretty relevant. Certainly in the Academy’s social structure, I decided bitterly, there seemed to be a lot of alphas and challenges. 

The vigilantes and Will watched as Mia raised her hand. “What about foxes? Do they have alphas too?”  There was a collective intake of breath from the class, followed by a few nervous giggles. Steph glared at her, the others frowning.

No one could believe Mia had gone there.  Ms. Meissner flushed with what I suspected was anger, “ We’re discussing wolves today, Miss Rinaldi.”  Mia didn’t seem to mind the subtle chastising, and when the class paired off to work on an assignment, she spent more time looking over at us and giggling. Through the bond, I could feel Lissa growing more and more upset as images of the fox kept flashing through her mind.

“Don’t worry,” Will told her. “I’ve got a way—” “Hey, Lissa,” someone interrupted.  They both looked up as Ralf Sarcozy stopped by our desks.

He wore his trademark stupid grin, and I had a feeling he’d come over here on a dare from his friends.

“So, admit it,” he said. “You killed the fox. You’re trying to convince Kirova you’re crazy so that you can get out of here again.” They all glared at him, Will looking dead in his eyes, "Screw you." “Are you offering?”  “From what I’ve heard, there isn’t much to screw,” Will shot back. “Wow,” Ralf said mockingly. “You have changed. Last I remembered, you weren’t too picky about who you got naked with.”  “And the last I remember, the only people you ever saw naked were on the Internet.”  Will said it with such a monotone voice, Dick choked on his drink, spluttering out a laugh. Bruce smiled slightly, the corner of his lips turning up, the only sign of his amusement. He was still concerned for the darkness surrounding Will, but Cass had relaxed slightly, and Duke had taken one look at her and relaxed himself. He needed to pay attention, he can worry later. Ralf cocked his head in an overly dramatic fashion. “Hey, I just got it: it was you, wasn’t it?” He looked at Lissa, then back at Will. “She got you to kill the fox, didn’t she? Some weird kind of lover voo-ahhh!” Ralf was on fire. The vigilantes jumped up.

I jumped up and pushed Lissa out of the way—not easy to do, since we were sitting at our desks. We both ended up on the floor as screams—Ralf’s in particular-filled the classroom and Ms. Meissner sprinted for the fire extinguisher.  And then, just like that, the flames disappeared. Ralf was still screaming and patting himself down, but he didn’t have a single singe mark on him. The only indication of what had happened was the lingering smell of smoke in the air.  For several seconds, the entire classroom froze. Then, slowly, everyone put the pieces together. Moroi magical specializations were well known, and after scanning the room, I deduced three fire users: Ralf, his friend Jacob, and— Christian Ozera.

The vigilantes scanned the scene to find the young man, who was laughing.

Since neither Jacob nor Ralf would have set Ralf on fire, it sort of made the culprit obvious. The fact that Christian was laughing hysterically sort of gave it away too. Ms. Meissner changed from red to deep purple.

“Mr. Ozera!” she screamed. “How dare you—do you have any idea—report to Headmistress Kirova’s office now!” The Moroi, completely unfazed, stood up and slung his backpack over one shoulder. That smirk stayed on his face. “Sure thing, Ms. Meissner.”  They watched as he went out of his way to walk past Ralf, who quickly backed away as he passed. The flinch from Ralf made Jason scoff.

The rest of the class stared, open-mouthed.  After that, Ms. Meissner attempted to return the class to normal, but it was a lost cause. No one could stop talking about what had happened. It was shocking on a few different levels. First, no one had ever seen that kind of spell: a massive fire that didn’t actually burn anything. Second, Christian had used it offensively. He had attacked another person. Moroi never did that.

"Why dont they, fire users would be very useful?" Tim ask, utterly confused.

They believed magic was meant to take care of the earth, to help people live better lives. It was never, ever used as a weapon. Magic instructors never taught those kinds of spells; I don’t think they even knew any. Finally, craziest of all,  Christian  had done it. Christian, whom no one ever noticed or gave a damn about. Well, they’d noticed him now.  It appeared someone still knew offensive spells after all, and as much as I had enjoyed the look of terror on Ralf’s face, it suddenly occurred to me that Christian might really and truly be a psycho- a danger. He enjoyed it.

Cass tilted her head squinting at Will, but shook it when Bruce looked at her. "Where had he learnt that?" Tim asked.

"The forbidden scrolls," Dick said somberly, ducking when Damian chucked a towel at his head.

The mist moved to the end of the class, Will kept a step behind Lissa before starting quietly, “Liss, please tell me you haven’t hung out with him again.” 

The guilt that flickered through the bond told me more than any explanation could. 

“Liss!” he grabbed her arm.  “Not that much,” she said uneasily. “He’s really okay—”  “Okay? Okay?” People in the hall stared at them.

I realized I was practically shouting and quietened down immediately, “He’s out of his mind.  He set Ralf on fire . I thought we decided you weren’t going to see him anymore.” “ You decided, Will. Not me.” There was an edge in her voice I hadn’t heard in a while. 

The vigilantes sat up at that, Bruce frowning. Will's face seemed to reset, his eyes closed for a moment too long, “What’s going on here? Are you guys…you know?…” “No!” she insisted. “I told you that already. God.” She shot Will a look of disgust. “Not everyone thinks—and acts—like you.” 

I flinched at the words.

The vigilantes frowned at that, frown deepening when the notice Mia passing by.

She hadn’t heard the conversation but had caught the tone.

A snide smile spread over her face, “Trouble in paradise?”  “Go find your pacifier, and shut the hell up,” Will told her, not waiting to hear her response, walking past her with Lissa. The mist showed that Mia's mouth dropped open, then tightened into a scowl. The duo walked on in silence, until Lissa burst out laughing.

Like that, our fight diffused. 

“Will…” Her tone was softer now. Will took a deep breath, “Lissa, he’s dangerous. I don’t like him. Please be careful.”  She touched his arm. “I am. I’m the cautious one, remember? You’re the reckless one.”  "He's reckless but still plans things, like he is quick to act but he still has a plan. Like-" Dick looked at Bruce, "you."

I hoped that was still true.

The mist the let the scene fade, a weak smile on Wills face, before showing him in his room.

I'd finish my lessons, and then the evening training lesson but i still had my doubts. I was in my room doing homework when I felt a trickle of what could only be called sneakiness coming from Lissa. Losing track of my work, I stared off into space, trying to get a more detailed understanding of what was happening to her. If ever there was a time for me to slip into her mind, it was now, but I didn’t know how to control that.  Frowning, I tried to think what normally made that connection occur. Usually she was experiencing some strong emotion, an emotion so powerful it tried to blast into my mind. I had to work hard to fight against that; I always sort of kept a mental wall up. 

Bruce noted that a mental wall sounds similar to what the vigilantes were trained to do against telepaths. To have trained himself on how to shield so well, on his own, was a great achievement. He'd taken the foundations of his own practices from the monks, months of meditation, it requires discipline, in the background Tim was adding another tally, quickly switching it to the notes page.

Focusing on her now, I tried to remove the wall. I steadied my breathing and cleared my mind. My thoughts didn’t matter, only hers did. I needed to open myself to her and let us connect.  I’d never done anything like this before; I didn’t have the patience for meditation. My need was so strong, however, that I forced myself into an intense, focused relaxation. I needed to know what was going on with her, and after a few more moments, my effort paid off.  I was in.

He was sitting on his floor, having moved to rest his back, and the mist moved to follow where his mind had went but instead of moving to see it as if they were Lissa, they mist started the scene from the corner of a staircase.

She was sneaking into the chapel’s attic again, confirming my worst fears. Like last time, she met no resistance.  Good God   could that priest be any worse about securing his own chapel ?

Steph laughed, Cass smiling widely.

The mist followed her, and as the door of the chapel opened sunrise lit up the stained-glass window. Christains's silhouette was framed against the window sitting in the window seat.“You‟re late,” he told her. “Been waiting a while.”  Lissa pulled up one of the rickety chairs, brushing dust off it. “I figured you’d be tied up with Headmistress Kirova.” He shook his head. “Not much to it. They suspended me for a week, that’s all. Not like it’s hard to sneak out.” He waved his hands around. “As you can see.”  “I’m surprised you didn’t get more time.”  A patch of sunlight lit up his crystal-blue eyes. “Disappointed?”  Lissa looked shocked. “You set someone on fire!”  “No, I didn’t. Did you see any burns on him?”  “He was covered in flames.”  “I had them under control. I kept them off of him.”  She sighed. “You shouldn’t have done that.” Straightening out of his lounging position, he sat up and leaned toward her. “I did it for you.”  “You attacked someone for me?”  “Sure. He was giving you and Will a hard time. He was doing an okay job against him, I guess, but I figured he could use the backup. Besides, this’ll shut anyone else up about the whole fox thing, too.”

Jason nodded, and though Bruce didn't want to admit anything, he did nod slightly. Tim looked at Christian and made an 'eh' sound. He tapped on his keyboard to make sure his laptop didn't go to sleep.

That wasn't a given.... maybe it would...but it also could have warped the rumour, mixing them together- feeding the flame. But Lissa wasn't finished- “ You shouldn’t have done that,” she repeated, looking away. She didn’t know how to feel about this “generosity.” “And don’t act like it was all for me. You liked d oing it. Part of you wanted to—just because.”  Christian’s smug expression dropped, replaced by one of uncharacteristic surprise. Lissa might not be psychic, but she had a startling ability to read people.  Seeing him off guard, she continued.

“Attacking someone else with magic is forbidden—and that’s exactly why you wanted to do it. You got a thrill out of it.” “Those rules are stupid. If we used magic as a weapon instead of just for warm and fuzzy shit, Strigoi wouldn’t keep killing so many of us. ”It’s wrong,” she said firmly. “Magic is a gift. It’s peaceful.”  “Only because they say it is. You’re repeating the party line we’ve been fed our whole lives.” He stood up and paced the small space of the attic. “It wasn’t always that way, you know. We used to fight, right along with the guardians—centuries ago. Then people started getting scared and stopped. Figured it was safer to just hide. They forgot the attack spells.” 

Not everyone forgot otherwise-

“Then how did you know that one?” He crooked her a smile. “Not everyone forgot.”  “Like your family? Like your parents?”  The smile disappeared. “You don’t know anything about my parents.” 

His face darkened, his eyes grew hard. To most people, he might have appeared scary and intimidating, but as Lissa studied and admired his features, he suddenly seemed very, very vulnerable. “ You’re right,” she admitted softly, after a moment. “I don’t. I’m sorry.”  For the second time in this meeting, Christian looked astonished. Probably no one apologized to him that often. Hell, no one even talked to him that often. Certainly no one ever listened. Like usual, he quickly turned into his cocky self. 

“Forget it.” Abruptly, they watched him stopped pacing, kneeling in front of her so the two could look each other in the eye. "Can you feel the love tonight," Dick sang, Steph joining in.

Feeling him so close made her hold her breath.

A dangerous smile curled his lips. “And really, I don’t get why you of all people should act so outraged that I used “forbidden‟ magic.”  “Me “of all people‟? What’s that supposed to mean?” Lissa moved to look at him, but he continued,  “You can play all innocent if you want—and you do a pretty good job—but I know the truth.”  “What truth is that?”

She couldn’t hide her uneasiness from me or Christian.  He leaned even closer.

“That you use compulsion. All the time.” The vigilantes froze.“No, I don’t,” she said immediately.  “Of course you do. I’ve been lying awake at night, trying to figure out how in the world you two were able to rent out a place and go to high school without anyone ever wanting to meet your parents. Then I figured it out. You had to be using compulsion. That’s probably how you broke out of here in the first place.” 

She didn't need to compel that much when we ran away- i made sure of it. The Gotham sticker had gotten me the chance to the job fair- we'd stayed in church attics (ironically enough) to begin with. I'd managed to apply to complete my gcses later the same year, cramming so many exam contents worth of study into a few months, and then went on to complete a science college course, working in any spare time. I didn't want her to compel too many people, only in the most drastic of situations.

“I see," She said finally after a couple minutes of silence, "You just figured it out. Without any proof.”  “I’ve got all the proof I need, just from watching you.”  “You’ve been watching me—spying on me—to prove I’m using compulsion?”  He shrugged, “No. Actually, I’ve been watching you just because I like it. The compulsion thing was a bonus. I saw you use it the other day to get an extension on that math assignment. And you used it on Ms. Carmack when she wanted to make you go through more testing.” “So you assume it’s compulsion? Maybe I’m just really good at convincing people.”

There was a defiant note in her voice: understandable, considering her fear and anger. Only she delivered it with a toss of her hair which—if I didn’t know any better—might have been considered flirtatious. And I did know better…right? Suddenly, I wasn’t sure.  He went on, but something in his eyes told me he’d noticed the hair, that he always noticed everything about her.

"Bad boy and good girl, a match made in many movies," Dick announced, pressing his hands to his chest, Steph joins in, fluttering her eyes at at Cass.  Christian continued, “People get these goofy looks on their faces when you talk to them. And not just any people—you’re able to do it to Moroi. Probably dhampirs, too. Now that’s crazy. I didn’t even know that was possible. You’re some kind of superstar. Some kind of evil, compulsion-abusing superstar.”

It was an accusation, but his tone and presence radiated the same flirtatiousness she had..... ew. Him looking at her- at me- like that, made me grimace slightly.

"yeah that would be freaky, being in someone else's head like that," Tim shook.

"They would be cute," Duke says, then corrects himself quickly "Lissa and Christian, not Christian and Will. Christians sorta like Will, very alike."

Lissa didn’t know what to say. He was right-ish Everything he’d said was right. Her compulsion was what had allowed us to dodge authority the two times they had been called, and get along in the world without adult help. It was what had allowed us to convince the people with absolutelty no documentation that I was 16 and responsible for her.  And it was considered every bit as wrong as using magic as a weapon. Why not? It was  a weapon. A powerful one, one that could be abused very easily.

Bruce nodded, creating even more safeguards. He wouldn't know how compulsion felt until he met a Moroi, though if she's particularly strong at it, then he would hopefully meet her when he meets Will.

Moroi children had it drilled into them from an early age that compulsion was very, very wrong. No one was taught to use it, though every Moroi technically had the ability. Lissa had just sort of stumbled into it—deeply—and, as Christian had pointed out, she could wield it over Moroi, as well as humans and dhampirs. 

“What are you going to do then?” she asked. “You going to turn me in?”  He shook his head and smiled. “No. I think it’s hot.”

It startled a laugh out of everyone, "smooth," Jason said. "Like you're any better," Tim retorts, and Jasons retort gets stuck in his throat at Tims smug look. Steph comes to his rescue "shut up, slut, you're just as weird." He looks at her offended, "If it works it works." Cass puts her hands over Steph shoulder and sends him a look, making him glare at her in fake annoyance.

She stared, eyes widening and heart racing. Something about the shape of his lips intrigued her.

“Will thinks you’re dangerous,” she blurted out nervously, trying to avoid looking at Christian, and failing, they were standing close to each other.“He thinks you might have killed the fox.”  The change in conversation and tone gave them whiplash.

I didn’t know how I felt about being dragged into this bizarre conversation. Some people were scared of me. Maybe he was too.  Judging from the amusement in his voice when he spoke, it appeared he wasn’t.

“People think I’m unstable, but I tell you, Will's ten times worse. Of course, that makes it harder for people to fuck with you, so I’m all for it.” Leaning back on his heels, they watched as he finally broke the intimate space between them. “And I sure as hell didn’t do that. Find out who did, though…and what I did to Ralf won’t seem like anything.”

His gallant offer of creepy vengeance didn’t exactly reassure Lissa…but it did thrill her a little. “I don’t want you doing anything like that. And I still don’t know who did it.”  He leaned back toward her and caught her wrists in his hands. He started to say something, then stopped and looked down in surprise, running his thumbs over faint, barely there scars-

Everyone in the room froze, "Did you?" "Is she ok-?" "What?" "That's why he's so protective." They started speaking over each other.

"Is that why she left?" The question echoed in their minds.

Looking back up at her, he had a strange—for him—kindness in his face. “You might not know who did it. But you know something. Something you aren’t talking about.”  She stared at him, a swirl of emotions playing in her chest. “You can’t know all my secrets,” she murmured. He glanced back down at her wrists and then released them, that dry smile of his back on his face. “No. I guess not.”  A feeling of peace settled over her, a feeling I thought only I could bring.

"Does he?" Damian cautiously asks, and Steph shakes her head, "they're best friends."

"He might be a bit co-dependent- i mean its just been the two of them for years, he's had to take care of her, it makes sense they're close," Dick adds. Suddenly the mist snapped back to the room and Duke flinches, "His aura is going off." He wasn't responsive, must still be in Lissa's head. Bruce snapped his eyes to Will and saw Cass in his peripheral survey him.

Returning to my own head and my room, I sat on the floor staring at my math book. Then, for reasons I didn’t really get, I slammed it shut and threw it against the wall.

Jason's eyes were locked on Will in front of them, the ring of green that never went away now almost glowing in the sun streaming through the window. Nobody could understand why Will's emotions, why he did that.

I spent the rest of the night brooding until the time I was supposed to meet Jesse came around. Slipping downstairs, I went into the kitchen—a place I could visit so long as I kept things brief—and caught his eye when I cut through the main visiting area. 

"His...aura... is still dark, it's, Cass?" Duke didn't look away, but Cass responded "he's not being controlled, just not in as much control as he usually is, like being provoked, or slightly buzzed. Its still him." Bruce jerked, as a dark thought entered his mind, 'would he be doing this?' But Cass nudged him with her foot slightly to bring his mind back from its spiraling brooding.  Moving past Jess, Will paused and whispered, “There’s a lounge on the fourth floor that nobody uses. Take the stairs on the other side of the bathrooms and meet me there in five minutes. The lock on the door is broken.” The mist switched to him in a side room, sitting down and watching the door.

He complied to the second, and found the lounge dark, dusty, and deserted. The drop in guardian numbers over the years meant a lot of the dorm stayed empty, a sad sign for Moroi society but terribly convenient right now. 

The Moroi sat down on the couch, and Will lay back on it, putting his feet in Jesse's lap.

I was still annoyed after Lissa and Christian’s bizarre attic romance and wanted nothing more than to forget about it for a while. 

Bruce didn't know what to do, and the others watched the scene warily, Steph cringing slightly. “You really here to study, or was it just an excuse?” he asked.  “No. It was real. Had to do an assignment with Meredith.” The tone in his voice indicated he wasn’t happy about that, and Will picked up on it,  “Pooh,” he teased. “Is working with a dhampir beneath your royal blood? Should I be offended?”   He smiled, showing a mouth full of perfect white teeth and fangs. It gave all the vigilantes a bad feeling. “You’re a lot hotter than she is.”  “Glad I make the cut.” Jesse's hand was sliding up Wills leg. But Will stopped and moved his leg.

I needed to do something first. It was time for some vengeance.

Everyone held their breath, not even making a joke about the similarities between him and Batman. He said easily, acting relaxed, “Mia must too, since you guys let her hang out with you. She’s not royal.” 

Tim perked up, "I like this part of the plan," Damian nodded in approval, though Duke looked confused.

His finger playfully poked me in the calf. “She’s with Aaron. And I’ve got lots of friends who aren’t royal. And friends who are dhampirs. I’m not a total asshole.” “Yeah, but did you know her parents are practically custodians for the Drozdovs?”  The hand on my leg stopped.

"oh, "Duke said, "that's very...rich Gotham socialite."

I’d exaggerated, but he was a sucker for gossip—and he was notorious for spreading it.  “Seriously?”  “Yeah. Scrubbing floors and stuff like that.”  “Huh.”  I could see the wheels turning in his dark blue eyes and had to hide a smile. The seed was planted.  Sitting up, I moved closer to him and draped a leg over his lap. I wrapped my arms around him, and without further delay, thoughts of Mia disappeared as he clocked that he had a hot dhampir guy in his lap.

"I dont want to watch this," Jason said stiffly, Bruce grunting awkwardly. Everyone was trying to look away, "he doesn't know we're watching him, this is gross," Steph added. The mist folded in of itself , sending a wave of relief through the group.

He kissed me eagerly—sloppily, even—pushing me against the back of the couch, and I relaxed into what had to be the first enjoyable physical activity I’d had in weeks.  We kissed like that for a long time, and I didn’t stop him when he pulled off my shirt.  “I’m not having sex,” I warned between kisses ,

Bruce relaxed slightly, and Duke awkwardly laughed, still looking at the wall.

I had no intention of losing my virginity on a couch in a lounge.  He paused, thinking about this, and finally decided not to push it. “Okay.”  But he pushed me onto the couch, lying over me, still kissing with that same fierceness. His lips traveled down to my neck, and when the sharp points of his fangs brushed against my skin, I couldn’t help an excited gasp.

Any micromental steps of relief had unravelled into a heap of concern and fear.

He raised himself up, looking into my face with open surprise. For a moment, I could barely breathe, recalling that rush of pleasure that a vampire bite could fill me with the relaxation and deep satisfaction it left me with, wondering what it’d be like to feel that while making out. Then the old taboos kicked in. Even if we didn’t have sex, giving blood while we did  this  was still wrong, still dirty. And I didn't want Jesse to do it.

"Please no," Bruce pleaded near silently.

“ Don’t,” I warned.  “You want to.” His voice held excited wonder. “I can tell.”  “No, I don’t.”  His eyes lit up. “You do. How—hey, have you done it before?”  “No,” I scoffed. “Of course not.” Those gorgeous blue eyes watched me, and I could see the wheels spinning behind them. Jesse might flirt a lot and have a big mouth, but he wasn’t stupid. “ You act like you have. You got excited when I was by your neck.”  “You’re a good kisser,” I countered, though it wasn’t entirely true. He drooled a little more than I would have preferred.

It only brought out another nervous chuckle from Duke.

“Don’t you think everyone would know if I was giving blood?”  The realization seized him. “Unless you weren’t doing it before you left. You did it while you were gone, didn’t you? You fed Lissa.”  “Of course not,” I repeated.  But he was on to something, and he knew it. “It was the only way. You didn’t have feeders. Oh, man.”  “She found some,” I lied. It was the same line we’d fed Natalie, the one she’d spread around and that no one—except Christian—had ever questioned. “Plenty of humans are into it.”  “Sure,” he said with a smile.

Jason's hand curled into fists.

He leaned his mouth back to my neck.  “I’m not a blood whore,” I snapped, pulling away from him.  “But you  want  to. You like it. All you dhampirs do.” His teeth were on my skin again. Sharp. Wonderful.  I had a feeling hostility would only make things worse, so I defused the situation with teasing. “Stop it,” I said gently, running a fingertip over his lips. “I told you, I’m not like that. But if you want something to do with your mouth, I can give you some ideas.”  That peaked his interest. “Yeah? Like wha—?”  And that was when the door opened. 

The mist burst into colours, revealing the room, a shirtless Will and Jess, who sprang apart at the sound.

I was ready to handle a fellow student or even possibly the matron. What I was not ready for was Dimitri. He burst in the door like he’d expected to find us, and in that horrible moment, with him raging like a storm, I knew why Mason had called him a god.

In the blink of an eye, he crossed the room and jerked Jesse up by his shirt, nearly holding the Moroi off the ground.  “What’s your name?” barked Dimitri.  “J-Jesse, sir. Jesse Zeklos, sir.”

"Will has top surgery scars. How'd he managed to?" Tim wondered, and at Steph's raised eyebrow, just shrugged.

Dimitri continued on, “Mr. Zeklos, do you have permission to be in this part of the dorm?” “No, sir.”  “Do you know the rules about interactions around here?”  “Yes, sir.”  “Then I suggest you get out of here as fast as you can before I turn you over to someone who will punish you accordingly. If I ever see you like this again”—Dimitri pointed to where I sat, half-dressed, on the couch—“I will be the one to punish you. And it will hurt. A lot. Do you understand?”

Bruce nodded grateful for Dimitri, but his eyes were trained to the floor, he hadn't looked up.

Jesse swallowed, eyes wide. None of the bravado he usually showed was there. I guess there was “usually” and then there was being held in the grip of a really ripped, really tall, and really pissed-off Russian guy “Yes, sir!”  “Then  go .” Dimitri released him, and, if possible, Jesse got out of there faster than Dimitri had burst in. My mentor then turned to me, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but the angry, disapproving message came through loud and clear.  And then it shifted.  It was almost like he’d been taken by surprise, like he’d never noticed me before. Had it been any other guy, I would have said he was checking me out.

Bruce's head shot up, though behind him the others looked at each other with small smiles, "oop, " Dick whispered.

As it was, he was definitely studying me. Studying my face, my body. And I suddenly realized I was only in jeans, my scars on display. I was quite porud of them, having manged to swindle a doctor into it, following a game of gambling and -though i never pushed it- what i assumed to be a slight helping hand from Lissa. It had helped me a lot, though the first two weeks after I did force Lissa to live in the attic of a local church and spend the day volunteering with them whilst i recovered.

"Smart" Tim said nodding.

Even a guy like Dimitri, one who seemed so focused on duty and training and all of that, seemed to appreciate the sight. And, finally, I noticed that a hot flush was spreading over me, and that the look in his eyes was doing more to me than Jesse’s kisses had.

Bruce was full Batman mode, glowering at Dimitri, who was still staring at Will.

Dimitri was quiet and distant sometimes, but he also had a dedication and an intensity that I’d never seen in any other person. I wondered how that kind of power and strength translated into…well, sex. I wondered what it’d be like for him to touch me and—shit!  What was I thinking? Was I out of my mind?

"Did he really not know?" Steph asked, and when Bruce turned, demanding an explanation, she just gestured to the screen, "I think he has a crush- or thought he had a crush, but is only now just starting to crush?" She trailed off, looking confused.

Slightly embarrassed, I covered my feelings with attitude.  “You see something you like?” I asked.  “Get dressed.”  The set of his mouth hardened, and whatever he’d just felt was gone. That fierceness sobered me up and made me forget about my own troubling reaction. I immediately pulled my shirt back on, uneasy at seeing his badass side.  “How’d you find me? You following me to make sure I don’t run away?” “Be quiet,” he snapped, leaning down so that we were at eye level, I'd stayed seated this entire time through Jesses retreat. “ A janitor saw you and reported it. Do you have any idea how stupid this was?”  “I know, I know, the whole probation thing, right?”  “Not just that. I’m talking about the stupidity of getting in  that  kind of situation in the first place.”  It made me chuckle, that kind of situation, I may not be a dhampir girl but I'm not stupid to believe me having a uterus and vagina gets forgotten. To some Moroi, me being a guy doesn't matter as I can still get pregnant, and for the younger, me being me probably makes me 'unique'. “I get in  that  kind of situation all the time, Comrade. It’s not a big deal.”

"Woah, his auras going crazy again."

Anger replaced my fear. I didn’t like being treated like a child.  “Stop calling me that. You don’t know even know what you’re talking about.”  “Sure I do. I had to do a report on Russia and the U.S.S.R. last year.” I hadn't, it was like 3am and some of my work friends and neighbours were drunk and we were watching some movie where they called each other 'comrade' leading me to a deep dive. It probably wasn't the most accurate, but it had been fun.

A couple of clicks from Tim's computer revealed he had added another tally.

It is a big deal for a Moroi male to be with any dhampir . They like to brag.”  I know. “So?”

"I don't understand", Bruce was confused and exasperated. "Persona," was Cass's answer, making Bruce just collapse his head into his hands. Tim added another tally

  “ So ?” he looked disgusted. “So don’t you have any respect? Think about Lissa. You make yourself look cheap. You live up to what a lot of people already think about dhampirs, and it reflects back on her. And me. ”I cock my head, “Oh, I see. Is that what this is about? Am I hurting your big, bad male pride? Are you afraid I’ll ruin your reputation?” He hesitates slight, “My reputation is already made, Will. I set my standards and lived up to them long ago. What you do with yours remains to be seen.” His voice hardened again. “Now get back to your room—if you can manage it without throwing yourself at someone else.” “ Is that your subtle way of calling me a slut?” “I hear the stories you guys tell. I’ve heard stories about you.”

Dick hissed through his teeth, glaring at Dimitri.

Ouch. I wanted to yell back that it was none of his business what I did with my body, not that i did much with it, being some party thing helped me fade into the background of the parties, and being what they expect me to be helps me, but something about the anger and disappointment on his face made me falter. I didn’t know what it was. “Disappointing” someone like Kirova was a non-event, but Dimitri?…I remembered how proud I’d felt when he praised me the last few times in our practices. Seeing that disappear from him…well, it suddenly made me feel as cheap as he’d implied I was. 

"His aura", Duke breathed, and Cass nodded in agreement. He relaxed back down in his chair, "its back to normal-his normal.

Something broke inside of me. Blinking back tears, I said, “Why is it wrong to…I don’t know, have fun? I’m seventeen, you know. I should be able to enjoy it.”  “You’re seventeen, and in less than a year, someone’s life and death will be in your hands.” His voice still sounded firm, but there was a gentleness there too.

"He's already had someone's life in his hands," Tim stressed, as if he could be heard. "And he did a good job," Dick affirmed.

“ If you were human or Moroi, you could have fun. W- You could do things others could.” “But you’re saying I can’t.”  He glanced away, and his dark eyes went unfocused. He was thinking about something far away from here. I'd noticed the slip up.

They leaned forward, as Dimitri seemed to be steeling himself, “When I was seventeen, I met Ivan Zeklos. We weren’t like you and Lissa, but we became friends, and he requested me as his guardian when I graduated. I was the top student in my school. I paid attention to everything in my classes, but in the end, it wasn’t enough. That’s how it is in this life. One slip, one distraction…” He sighed.

"He's twenty, its not his fault," Jason tried weakly, but they all knew it was hypocritical, those they couldn't saved weighed heavily on them and the friends they lost- even if they returned- leave their mark, “And it’s too late," he finished.

A lump formed in my throat as I thought about one slip or one distraction costing Lissa her life. “Jesse’s a Zeklos,” I said, suddenly realizing Dimitri had just thrown around a relative of his former friend and charge.  “I know.”  “Does it bother you? Does he remind you of Ivan?”  “It doesn’t matter how I feel. It doesn’t matter how any of us feel.” “ But it does bother you.” It suddenly became very obvious to me. I could read his pain, though he clearly worked hard to hide it. “You hurt. Every day. Don’t you? You miss him.”  Dimitri looked surprised, like he didn’t want me to know that, like I’d uncovered some secret part of him.

"That was quick", Steph looked at Cass who nodded. Bruce looked up and glared, a matching one on Damian's face.

I’d been thinking he was some aloof, antisocial tough guy, but maybe he kept himself apart from other people so he wouldn’t get hurt if he lost them. Ivan’s death had clearly left a permanent mark.  I wondered if Dimitri was lonely.  The surprised look vanished, and his standard serious one returned. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. They come first. Protecting them.”  I thought about Lissa again. “Yeah. They do.” 

"Thats...." No one knew what to say. A long silence fell before either spoke again. Dimitri broken the silence, “You told me you want to fight, to really fight. Is that still true?”  “Yes. Absolutely.”  “Will…I can teach you, but I have to believe you’re dedicated. Really dedicated. I can’t have you distracted by things like this.” He gestured around the lounge. “Can I trust you?” 

Under that gaze, under the seriousness of what he asked, I felt the weight of what he was asking. I didn’t get how he could have such a powerful effect on me.

Jason and Dick shared a look behind Bruce. Tim had stopped typing a while ago, the laptop screen dark.

I’d never cared so much about what one person thought.

“Yes. I promise,” he swore. Dimitri was still looking at him,“All right. I’ll teach you, but I need you strong. I know you enjoy the running, and it really is necessary. You have no idea what Strigoi are like. The school tries to prepare you, but until you’ve seen how strong they are and how fast…well, you can’t even imagine. So we can’t stop the running and the conditioning. If you want to learn more about fighting, we need to add more trainings. It’ll take up more of your time. You won’t have much left for your homework or anything else. You’ll be tired. A lot.” 

I thought about it, about him, and about Lissa. “It doesn’t matter. If you tell me to do it, I’ll do it.”  He studied me hard, like he was still trying to decide if he could believe me. Finally satisfied, he gave me a sharp nod. “We’ll start tomorrow.”

The mist stopped, and the group became aware of the sun whihc had reached higher in the sky. "We need to eat something, rest," Bruce said, getting the stares of the others in response. He sighed, "We'll watch more after a few hours rest, and brunch." He left, and Damian's attempt to rouse the mist was unsuccessful leading to the Bats filing out and scattering round the manor.

Chapter Text

A few hours later Batman entered the room; a restless nap he doesn't feel was worth it filled most of the break, but he was wrestled into the dining room for sandwiches and snacks. The remanet of the sandwich still in his hand as he walked into the blue room, onto the large armchair, and with a quick glance to see everyone was already settled in there looking at him expectantly; he asked the mist to continue.

It was a classroom and they were thrown into the middle of the lesson. The teacher was looking at Mia and the mist must have been impatient, skipping ahead to the interesting bits, as the first they heard was the second part of a conversation- “excuse me, Mr. Nagy? I CAN’T really concentrate with Lissa and Will passing notes over there.”

Mia was attempting to distract attention from herself—as well as from her inability to answer Mr. Nagy’s question—and it was as annoying as it was predictable, poisoning what had otherwise been a promising day. A few of the fox rumors still circulated, though most people wanted to talk about Christian attacking Ralf. However, Lissa was not doing well, I could hear her heart hammering in my own head, making it throb slightly.

Looking at Will's face his jaw clenched. He forced his jaw to relax, micromanaging his own expressions to portray ease, a relaxed don't-care attitude.

"Do I still need to continue marking the similarities?" Tim muttered under his breath, purposefully loud enough for all to hear. Steph looked at him who then stared challengingly, a small smirk on her face, straight at Bruce, "start a differences document, let's see how much better he is."

Bruce did his best to ignore it, fighting the exasperated smile off his face as he watched his son, who....

Had something in his hand.

The teacher hadn't looked away from Mia, looking expectant for even an attempt at an answer, and Wills thoughts seemed to not fully be here, though as always they were in his voice as if narrated by him and filling in the room as if surround sound. His mind was wondering from the class, even as he kept a casual awareness for his surroundings.

"After some proper training, he's going to be badass," Dick whistled.

I still hadn’t cleared Christian of the fox incident—I was pretty sure he was psycho enough to have done it as some crazy sign of affection for Lissa—but whatever his motives, he had shifted some of the attention off her, just as he’d said.

Mr Nagy then looked at Will and Lissa sitting there, and started walking over to them. It was too late to hide the note, even as Will tried to slightly cover it in his hand nonchalantly.

Mr. Nagy legendary for his ability to humiliate students by reading notes aloud, homed in on us like a missile. He snatched the note away, and the excited class settled in for a full reading.

Wills throat bobbed, swallowing whatever he wanted to do. He tried to look as blank and unconcerned as possible, though they could all see through it, having studied him so much. Beside him, Lissa looked like she wanted to die. “My, my,” he said, looking the note over. “If only students would write this much in their essays. One of you has worse writing than the other, so forgive me if I get anything wrong here.”

Rude, I'm sorry i didn't get tutors, it's legible, even if not in the perfect Moroi cursive they all seemed to be able to conjure up mindlessly, or at least Liss can.

He cleared his throat. “ “So, I saw J last night,‟ begins the person with bad handwriting, to which the response is, “What happened,‟ followed by no fewer than five question marks. Understandable, since sometimes one—let alone four—just won’t get the point across, eh?”

"Is this necessary?" Damian seemed to demand, and as they all watched the class laugh and Lissa fight to not fold in against herself – or throw herself into the ground- they all heard Damian tut.

I noticed Mia throwing me a particularly mean smile.

They all glanced at her, Duke frowning. Mr Nagy was still speaking. “The first speaker responds: “What do you think happened? We hooked up in one of the empty lounges.‟  Mr. Nagy glanced up after hearing some more giggles in the room.

His British accent only added to the hilarity to our classmates, but he wasn't finished yet.

“May I assume by this reaction that the use of ”hook up‟ pertains to the more recent, shall we say, carnal application of the term than the tamer one I grew up with? "He looked around the class as he asked the question, but he finished asking it looking down at Will. More snickers ensued. Straightening up, he said confidently, “Yes, sir, Mr. Nagy. That would be correct, sir.” A number of people in the class laughed outright.

Cass was lazily watching the scene unfold as Mr Nagy nodded to Will before turning to the rest of the class, "Thank you for that confirmation, Mr Hathaway. Now, where was I? Ah yes, the other speaker then asks, “How was it?‟ The response is, “Good,‟ -

"What?" Duke laughed awkwardly, Damian scrunched up his nose.

"-punctuated with a smiley face to confirm said adjective. Well. I suppose kudos are in order for the mysterious J, hmmm? „So, like, how far did you guys go?” Uh, you two,” said Mr. Nagy, “I do hope this doesn’t surpass a PG rating.

"He shouldn't be doing this" Bruce said, but they were all just spectators, watching a highlight reel hours- days after, they had no way of doing anything.

“Not very. We got caught.‟ and again, we are shown the severity of the situation, this time through the use of a not smiling face. “What happened?” “Dimitri showed up. He threw Jesse out and then bitched me out.‟

"....That's not the most accurate," Jason started, before snapping his jaw closed and snapping his eyes to Will, scrutinising him.

The class lost it, both from hearing Mr. Nagy say “bitched” and from finally getting some participants named. Mr Nagy didn't stop, he hadn't finished making him point-

“Why, Mr. Zeklos, are you the aforementioned J? The one who earned a smiley face from the sloppy writer?”

Jesse’s face turned beet red, but he didn’t look entirely displeased at having his exploits made known in front of his friends. He’d kept what had happened a secret thus far—including the blood talk—because I suspected Dimitri had scared the hell out of him.

“Well, while I applaud a good misadventure as much as the next teacher whose time is utterly wasted, do remind your “friends‟ in the future that my class is not a chat room.” He tossed the paper back on to Lissa’s desk, already moving to the front of class before continuing,“Mr Hathaway, it seems there’s no feasible way to punish you, since you’re already maxed out on penalties around here. Ergo, you, Miss Dragomir, will serve two detentions instead of one on behalf of your friend. Stay here when the bell rings, please.”

They all relaxed as the class seemed to move forward, though many still whispered, glancing at Will- Bruce closed his eyes defeated, "they're looking at Will, not Vasilissa."

The scene shifted with many classmates have disappeared. Jesse had stayed behind, waving off his friends to walk up to Will, "Hey, um, about that note…you know I didn’t have anything to do with that. If Belikov finds out about it…you’ll tell him? I mean, you’ll let him know I didn’t—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Will interrupted him. “Don’t worry, you’re safe. He replied barely glancing at Jesse from next to Lissa, helping her gather her stuff. It was Lissa who watched him walk out of the room.

Thinking of how easily Dimitri had thrown him around—and of his apparent cowardice—I couldn’t help but remark, “You know, Jesse’s suddenly not as hot as I used to think.” Why did i even think it in the first place? I recognised many would find him attractive, but I never really took it further than flirting. God I really must be desperate for something other than the monotony of this dictated routine.

As Lissa laughed at his remark, Dick turned to Duke, "How's he looking?"

Duke went to speak but stopped as they heard Lissa stop laughing. “You’d better go. I’ve got desks to wash.” She waved off Will as he left the classroom and Duke answered, "He looks ok, but the darkness is still there, constant. It's just not overwhelming him like it did."

"Could this be a consequence of the bond?" Damian added, "Dove said about the shadows, and 'shadow-kissed' Anna also had a bond? "

Tim tacked on, "if Vladmir could preform "miracles" can Vasilisa?"

"Her aura is bright, golden," Duke revealed, but there's nothing i can 'see' connecting them, like it doesn't look connected."

"The drawings, Doves," Tim realised, "she saw the auras."

"But what does it mean?" Jason wondered, "its great we've all learnt what their bond looks like, but what does shadow-kissed mean? I've never heard that before."

"I can't find anything online, except like fantasy men who have shadow powers," Tim joked.

Will was walking somewhere, and normally the mist who skip it, but they all watched as he passed students gathered in small clusters around the campus. He watched a group of students run by in the distance, laughing together and for a second his eyes turned wistful.

God I wish I had the free time to socialize. Small parties or hanging out with my friends and fellow dhampirs is something I had been able to live without whilst miles away from them, but here. It was harder not to miss it.

"That sucks." Dick commiserated. But then a confident voice from one of the clusters closer to the buildings sounded clear in the room, “No, it’s true."

Camille Conta. Beautiful and popular, from one of the most prestigious families in the Conta clan. She and Lissa had sort of been friends before we left, in the uneasy way two powerful forces keep an eye on each other.

The vigilantes saw him slow down though he kept his eyes away from the gaggle of students. “They, like, clean toilets or something.”  “Oh my God,” her friend said. “I’d die if I was Mia.” 

I smiled, barely twitching the corner of my mouth. Jesse did spread some of the stories I’d told him last night.

He kept moving, the mist following him diligently, Bruce's eye had twitched at the reminder of what they had watched, though Jason and Dick had justs looked at you, with Dick miming the words 'your son." The next conversation they overhead filled the room as Will turned around the corner of a building, “—heard it was still alive. Like, twitching on her bed.”

“That is so gross. Why would they just leave it there?”  “I don’t know. Why kill it in the first place?”

“You think Ralf was right? That she and Will did it to get kicked—” They saw him and shut up.

He scowled, another face they all could recognise in the man sitting with them.. He hurried up, skulking off across the quadrangle.

Still alive, still alive. I’d refused to let Lissa talk about the similarities between the fox and what had happened two years ago.

"What had happened? Why can't he just reveal everything." Tim muttered slightly annoyed.
"Hypocrite." Cass responded easily.

"Like you can talk." Steph joked.

"Like any of us can." Duke finished, looking between everyone relaxing back into his chair.

I didn’t want to believe they were connected, and I certainly didn’t want her to either.  But, that was stupid, to ignore it and the obvious connections. I don't believe in coincidences.

Dick jumped up, "we needed a bingo board," sitting down just as quick and crossing his legs on his seat. Slight mumbling rippled amongst the group.

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that incident, not only because it was chilling, but because it really did remind me of what had just happened in her room.

The mist snapped to a flashback, to a wooded area. They all leaned forward, curiosity inching them forward as if they would learn of what had happened faster if they were closer, as if they could crawl into the scene itself.

Out in the woods near campus one evening, having skipped out on our last class, I’d traded a pair of cute, rhinestone-studded sandals to Abby Badica for a bottle of peach schnapps— Lissa didn't think they suited her, and having come out to her months ago, she'd asked for the right to have any of my stuff. And yeah peach schnapps wasn't my favourite- nothing peach flavoured was, but you did what you had to here and I'd have even less hope getting ahold of alcohol, so i took what i could, taking the bottle that she’d somehow gotten hold of. Lissa had shaken her head in disapproval when I suggested cutting class to go put the bottle out of its misery, but she’d come along anyway.

The younger versions of Will and Lissa were walking around before finding an old log to sit on near a green marsh. His hair was short- though not as short as it would be. It was more akin to a pixie cut.

Like always. 

A half-moon cast a tiny sliver of light on the two, but the scene seemed artificially brightened for their viewing, as the brightness of the scene didn't seem to make sense with the lack of lights surrounding them, they seemed hidden from the school.

It was more than enough for vampires and half-vampires to see by. It was a quiet afternoon, we'd chosen to go to a more secluded area- a spot I'd found whilst running.

They were passing the bottle back and forth, and Will was asking her about Aaron. It was a comfortable atmosphere, and even at the obvious underage drinking the vigilantes were smiling at the pair.

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows at the ease at which they drank the alcohol, though Will seemed to be annoyed at the taste of it. They were 14, if he'd done the math correct. Thoughts of underage drinking and what he'd been doing at 14 flashed through his mind before he could say anything though.

She’d fessed up that the two of them had had sex the weekend before, and I felt a surge of jealousy that she’d been the one to have sex first.

“So what was it like?”  She shrugged and took another drink. “I don’t know. It wasn’t anything.”  “What do you mean it wasn’t anything? Didn’t the earth move or the planets align or something?”  “No,” she said, smothering a laugh. “Of course not.”

"He's a romantic," Steph joked gesturing to Tim, "write it down, Bruce is all business and justice! And logic." She overexaggerated.

I didn’t really get why that should be funny, but I could tell she didn’t want to talk about it. This was around the time the bond had begun forming, and her emotions were starting to creep into me now and then. I held up the bottle and glared at it.

“I don’t think this stuff is working.” He said out loud. “That’s because there’s barely any alcohol in—” The sound of something moving in the brush came from nearby, and Bruce tensed.

Will immediately shot up, putting his body between his friend and the noise.  “It’s some animal,” she said when a minute went by in silence, not even the vigilantes making a sound.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous.

"That didn't mean it wasn't dangerous." Bruce said at the same time and Jason barked out a laugh.

The school’s wards kept out Strigoi, but wild animals often wandered into the outskirts of campus, posing their own threats. Bears. Cougars. Great. Now I'm probably going to research native animals that live round us, at least that's my night sorted.

“Come on,” Will told, though he kept watching the area the sound had came from. “Let’s head back.” They hadn’t gone very far when the sound of something moving again, and someone stepped out into their path, “Children.”

"That's-"

Ms. Karp.

Tim closed his mouth as Will finished his sentence, in the face of silence it was audible,

We froze, and whatever quick reactions I’d shown back by the marsh disappeared as I delayed a few moments in hiding the bottle behind my back.

A half-smile crossed the teachers face, and she held out her hand. Sheepishly, they saw him give the bottle to her, and she tucked it under her arm. She turned without another word, and they followed.

I knew there would be consequences to deal with.

“You think no one notices when half a class is gone?” she asked after a little while of them walking. Tim scoffed, having connected the dots.

“Half a class?” Will spoke up.

“A few of you apparently chose today to skip. Must be the nice weather. Spring fever.”  Lissa and Will trudged along.

I’d never been comfortable around Ms. Karp since the time she’d healed my hands. Her weird, paranoid behavior had taken on a strange quality to me—a lot stranger than before. Scary, even. And lately I couldn’t look at her without seeing those marks by her forehead. Her deep red hair usually covered them but not always. Sometimes there were new marks; sometimes the old ones faded to nothing.

"There." Jason pointed out, hissing at the angry marks peaking from under her hair.

A weird fluttering noise sounded to the right of the group. They all stopped. “One of your classmates, I imagine,” murmured Ms. Karp, turning toward the sound. Will and Lissa looked at each other but followed. But when they reached the spot, they found a large black bird lying on the on the ground. Damian grimaced at the poor bird.

Birds—and most animals—didn’t do anything for me, but even I had to admire its sleek feathers and fierce beak. It could probably peck someone’s eyes out in thirty seconds—if it weren’t obviously dying. With a last, halfhearted shake, the bird finally went still.

“What is that? Is it a crow?” Will asked.  “Too big,” said Ms. Karp. “It’s a raven.”  “Is it dead?” asked Lissa. He peered at it. “Yeah. Definitely dead. Don’t touch it.”  “Probably attacked by another bird,” observed Ms. Karp. “They fight over territory and resources sometimes.”  Lissa knelt down, compassion on her face.

"You're definitely going to get on." Dick nudge Damian with his foot, stretching over to his chair.

She’d lectured me for days after I’d accidently instigated the infamous hamster-and-hermit-crab fight. I’d viewed the fight as an unfortunate testing of worthy opponents. She’d seen it as animal cruelty.

Transfixed, she reached toward the raven.  “Liss!” Will exclaimed, voice alarmed. “It’s probably got a disease.” Ms Karp was further back behind them eyes staring at Vasilissa, who hadn't stopped reaching out.

Her hand moved out like she hadn’t even heard me. Ms. Karp stood there like a statue, her white face looking like a ghosts. Lissa’s fingers stroked the raven’s wings.

"She's getting really freaked out.." Dick started slowly, "Why?"

“Liss,” I repeated, starting to move toward her, to pull her back. Suddenly, a strange sensation flooded through my head, a sweetness that was beautiful and full of life. The feeling was so intense, it stopped me in my tracks.

His hand was still outstretched, but he hadn't moved further towards her, even as she kept stroking his wings. Then the raven moved.

"What the fuck."

"...That's a miracle." Jason said.

"She's glowing." Duke said, his eyes squinting as if outside on a sunny day, its golden and surrounding her."

"So she is like the Saint." Tim nodded, having already noted it down

They watched as Lissa gave a small scream, snatching her hand back. Will moved forward as if compelled by her scream, standing next to her, both staring wide-eyed at the bird. The raven flapped its wings, slowly trying to right itself and stand up. When it managed to do so, it turned toward them,

It fixed Lissa with a look that seemed too intelligent for a bird, its eyes held hers, and I couldn’t read her reaction through the bond.

"Could that mean that alcohol nullifies it, or is it becasue it was so new?" Jason asked. Bruce hmmed in response, though no one looked away from the mist, not wanting to miss anything. At long last, the raven broke the gaze and lifted into the air, strong wings carrying it away.  Wind stirring the leaves was the only sound left.

“Oh my God,” breathed Lissa. “What just happened?” She was still staring at where it had flown off, wide eyed and confused.

“Hell if I know,” Will said, voice flat, though his hand was shaking. He hid it behind his back.

"Watch out!" Steph yelled to the mist as they saw Ms Karp stride forward. She grabbed Vasilisa's arm with force, turning her so they faced each other.

I was there in a flash, ready to take action if Crazy Karp tried anything, though even I had qualms about taking down a teacher.

“Nothing happened,” said Ms. Karp in an urgent voice, her eyes wild-looking, focused on Vasilisa. It set them all on edge watching, but this was years ago, Bruce had to force himself not to try fruitlessly to intervene.

“Do you hear me? Nothing. And you can’t tell anyone—anyone—about what you saw. Both of you. Promise me. Promise me you won’t ever talk about this again.”  Lissa and Will exchanged uneasy glances. “Okay” Lissa croaked out, obviously uneasy and afraid.  Ms. Karp’s grip relaxed a little, letting Lissa pull her arm down, though she still held on and stared into her eyes. “And don’t ever do it again. If you do, they’ll find out. They’ll try to find you.”

"Who?" Tim whispered.

"This has to be why they left." Damian spoke confidently, "or at least the start. Dead animals, "He spat out, pausing to collect himself, "someone had to have seen. This can't be a coincidence."

She turned to Will, who kept her gaze and inched forward trying to shield Lissa, even with her arm in Ms Karp's arm. “You can’t let her do it. Not ever again.”

The scene abruptly stopped as someone could be heard calling Wills name. He was on the quad outside his dorm. “Hey, Will? I’ve called you, like, a hundred times.” he glanced around, spotting Mason who came into the mists vision.

He must have started walking with me toward the dorm while I was off in la-la land. Dangerous, I need to keep focused.

“Sorry,” Will mumbled. “I’m out of it. Just…um, tired.”

“Too much excitement last night?”

Jason smirked, "somebodies jealous." At Bruce's tired look, he just shrugged, "got your weird magnetism, attracts people. What? He's your son."

"I don't know how you do it father, you are.... you." Damian piled on, making Bruce shake his head.

Will gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“I guess,” he laughed, though he didn’t exactly sound amused.

“Sounds like Jesse couldn’t handle it.” He carried on, even as Steph grimaced. "Awkward."

“He did okay.” Will wasn't particularly patient with him, his answers becoming clipped.

“If you say so. But personally, I think you’ve got bad taste.”

Steph made an eh sound, "Jesse yeah."
"Not Dimitri though," Dick finished, both nodding at one another.

Will stopped walking. “And I don’t think it’s any of your business.” HE voice had become short, the statement sounding more like a command, trying to end the conversation.

He looked away angrily. “You made it the whole class’s business.”

“Hey, I didn’t do that on purpose.” He put on a good show of trying to convince Mason.

I did sort of, Lissa overheard some students talking about the fox and breakfast and it made her feel sick, it only took another comment just before class for me to get fed up with how everyone was making her feel. Even if Christians actions had brought some of the attention of her, it didn't take enough.

“Would’ve happened anyway. Jesse’s got a big mouth.”

“He wouldn’t have told.”

Not that part anyway, and I was banking on his gossip tendencies, it was a big part of why i met up with him. Images of Dimitri and Jesses terrified face made me smirk. He noticed.

“Yeah,” said Mason. “Because he’s so cute and has such an important family.”

“Stop being an idiot,” Will snapped. “And why do you even care? Jealous I’m not doing it with you?”

"Bingo." Dick joked.

His flush grew, going all the way to the roots of his red hair. “I just don’t like hearing people talk shit about you, that’s all. There are a lot of nasty jokes going around. They’re calling you a slut.”

That made them all frown, and Wills thoughts deepened their faces further.

They already called me that.

“I don’t care what they call me.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re really tough. You don’t need anyone.”

I stopped. “I don’t. I don’t need you acting all gallant and coming to my defense. Don’t treat me like I’m some helpless girl.”

Even as Will turned around and kept walking, they all saw Mason stop and gape, breathing in a deep breath and mutter something sounding like 'idiot' under his breath. Cass nodded agreeing with him.

He caught up to me easily. The woes of being five-fucking-five.

They laughed, Tim nodding, he wasn't as short, but it wouldn't be too long until Damian overtook him.

“Look…I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just worried about you.”

Will gave a harsh laugh.

“I’m serious. Wait…” he began. “I, uh, did something for you. Sort of. I went to the library last night and tried to look up St. Vladimir,” he stopped again.

“You did?”

“Yeah, but there wasn’t much on Anna. All the books were kind of generic. Just talked about him healing people, bringing them back from the edge of death.”

That last part hit a nerve.

“Was…was there anything else?” I stammered. He shook his head. “No. You probably need some primary sources, but we don’t have any here.”

“Primary notes.”  He scoffed, a smile breaking over his face. "Yeah, we just talked about them the other day in Andrews class. You’ll get better information if you find something written by the guy himself. Or someone who actually knew him.”

Of course. How I am going to find anything like that whilst on lockdown?

“Huh. Okay. What are you, like, a boy genius now?” 

Mason gave him a light punch in the arm. “I pay attention, that’s all. You’re so oblivious. You miss all sorts of things.” He smiled nervously. “And look…I really am sorry about what I said. I was just—”

Jealous. I could see it in his eyes. How had I never noticed this before? He was crazy about me. I guess I really was oblivious.

"He is able to notice a lot of things, just not regarding himself. He's more focused on Vasilisa." Bruce spoke up, definitely not missing the stares and looks. He ignored them.

“It’s all right, Mase. Forget about it.” Will gave a small smile. “And thanks for looking that stuff up.” 

Mason smiled back, and I went inside, sad that I didn’t feel the same way about him. I didn't have time for this, there was too much rattling round my brain, lets just shove that away for now and deal with it later. Dead animals and training take priority.

The vigilantes laughed, "he fits right in." The mist froze on his entering his room, before disappearing into the crystal in an explosion of colours.

The lack of sound from the crystal seemed deafening to the occupants of the room.

Tim stood up, "I'm going to go research anything i can find about them, maybe hunt down Constantine to see if he knows anything about Saint Vladmir.."

"I'll contact Zatanna,"Bruce added, nodding to Tim who'd already made it to the door.

"He's doing ok." Steph said, making Bruce glance at her as he picked up the statue and crystal.
Steph helped Cass stand up mentioning going to watch some movies.
Damian rolls his shoulders, "Brown is correct, he is handling himself well. He is clearly protective over Vasillisa but that seems to be expected for their world. He is in training, and will have further training here."
The sand had fallen further, a collection of particles in the bottom half of the timer, now visible. Bruce had tried to measure the rate of falling particles to try and predict when the timer would be finished but the timer was not falling proportionally. It seemed the crystal was teasing him by randomly falling at different rates.
He hated it.

He's ok. He's doing well. Bruce reminded himself. He just saw him, he's ok.

Chapter Text

The vigilantes flocked together a week later, spirits optimistic. They all relaxed into the matched seats of the ornate sitting room, posed pictures and paintings on the walls next to the fireplace. Looking closely, some dented plaster and nicks in the walls reveal the countless scuffles and petty fights vigilantes get into, even if clumsy attempts to hide and conceal the marks have been made with more candid photos.

"You think we'll learn more about the bond?," Tim asked, further research had not pulled up anything concrete and some intergalactic conflict had pulled the two hero's most likely to know anything into another realm, so he'd brought his laptop and was settling down, legs pulled up underneath him resting on the armrest of the loveseat.

"I'm curious to learn more about his love life, you guys have been boring, all the same stuff," Steph mused, and at Dukes arched brow, she shrugs, "it's a rite of passage for all you Wayne's, they all have interesting love lives."

Dick shushed everyone, gesturing to Bruce to the table in the centre of the room, and as Bruce was setting the crystal up, he turned back to stick his tongue out.

Steph snorted, Damian and Jason scoffed. But whatever fight was about to start was quelled by the crystal sparking to life with Bruce's order.

The mist formed a classroom; not a lecture hall but a room made of several tables. Lissa and Will were sitting on a table in the corner near a window peering out to the starry night and the woods surrounding the school.

“You need something to wear, don't you?” Lissa asked.

“Hmm?” Will replied glancing over to her.

We were waiting for Mr Nagy's Slavic art class to start, and I was preoccupied with listening to Mia adamantly deny the claims about her parents to one of her friends.

From another table, Mia and other students were hazy in the bounds of the mist but her voice was clear, “It’s not like they’re servants or anything,” she exclaimed.

She is clearly flustered, and I can see her straightening her face, before trying for haughtiness. “They’re practically advisors. The Drozdovs don’t decide anything without them.”

Jason snorted, and they watched Will do little to fight his smile, turning his head away smirking, an expression so similar to Damian it made the rest of the vigilantes smile. Lissa shook her head.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.” Lissa said to Will, eyebrow creased slightly. 

“Because it’s awesome. What’d you just ask me?” Will dug through his bag, messily looking for.... an eye pencil. He made a face when he found it. Lissa handed him a mirror, and he started to do some slight smudged makeup, a small frown on his face.

It was almost empty; I didn’t know where I was going to score some more.

Steph giggled at him, before looking at Bruce, "he's not as emo as you but," gesturing to her face, specifically her eyes. Bruce just stared at her unimpressed, though the others started to laugh, and when Tim managed to pull up an image of an early Batman- well Bruce as his mask was off- eyes surrounded in smudged makeup, it made everyone laugh even more.

“I asked if you need something to wear tonight,” she repeated.

Will put his pencil back in his backpack, looking at her for a second, “Well, yeah, of course, I do. But none of your stuff fits me."  

“I think you could pull it off," she smiled, "What are you going to do?”  

He shrugged my shoulders. “Improvise, like always. I don’t really care anyway. I’m just glad Kirova’s letting me go.”  

Everyone in the sitting room focused back in on the scene.

We had an assembly tonight. It was November 1, All Saints’ Day —which also meant we’d been back for nearly a month now- weeks longer than i expected. A royal group was visiting the school, including Queen Tatiana herself. Honestly, that wasn’t what excited me. She’d visited the Academy before. It was pretty common and a lot less cool than it sounded. Besides, after living among humans and elected leaders, I didn’t think much of stiff royals. Still, I’d gotten permission to go because everyone else would be there. It was a chance to hang out with actual people for a change and not stay locked in my dorm room. A little freedom was definitely worth the pain of sitting through a few boring speeches.

"He's still grounded? Harsh." Jason whistled.

A teacher walked into the room, Lissa and Will turned to look at him, and the mist faded out to Will, now in gym clothes, walking up to an older building- the gym.

I didn't stay to chat with Lissa after school like I usually did. Dimitri had stuck to his promise about extra training, and I was trying to stick to mine. I now had two additional hours of practice with him, one before a nd one after school. The more I watched him in action, the more I understood the badass-god reputation. He clearly knew a lot—his six molnija marks proved as much —and I burned to have him teach me what he knew.

He got there earlier than Belikov did, and started an obvious routine of stretches. When Belikov arrived, he was wearing a T-shirt and loose running pants, as opposed to his usual jeans that all the vigilantes had seen him in. Steph raised her eyebrows.

That's a good look for him. Really good. Stop looking.

Bruce's eye seemed to twitch as Will eyes snapped to the wall to the side of Belikov. Steph just frantically pushed her hands towards the scene. Belikov and Will had some quiet conversation, Belikov checking he stretched, before positioning Will so that they stood facing each other on the mat and crossed his arms.

“What’s the first problem you’ll run into when facing a Strigoi?”  

“They’re immortal?”  

“Think of something more basic.”  

It only took Will a second to think, but Bruce had already got the answer, "they are likely to be taller."

“They could be bigger than me. And stronger.” Will answers, making Bruce smile.

Most Strigoi—unless they’d been human first—had the same height as their Moroi cousins. Strigoi also had better strength, reflexes, and senses than dhampirs. That’s why guardians trained so hard; we had a “learning curve” to compensate for.

Dimitri nodded. “That makes it difficult but not impossible. You can usually use a person’s extra height and weight against them.”  

He turned and demonstrated several manoeuvres, pointing out where to move and how to strike someone.

Going through the motions with him, I gained some insight into why I took such a regular beating in the group practice. I absorbed his techniques quickly and couldn't wait to actually use them. Near the end of our time together, he let me try.

The motions and techniques they'd gone through had similarities to vigilante training regarding going against enemies stronger than you, though the advanced strength and speed resulted in a different more hands-on approach compared to gadgets, flexibility and misdirection. It had been interesting, and Bruce had already started planning potential trainings and exercises he could go through with Will. There'd been several quiet conversations during the watching of the gym session, as the mist had left the scene to play out mostly in real time, and there was plenty to say watching Will try new techniques. The vigilantes all watched studiously as Belikov stood across from Will on the mat, “Go ahead,” Belikov said. “Try to hit me.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. Even if I was going to lose.

Lunging forward, Will tried to land a blow and was promptly blocked and knocked down onto the mat. Duke hissed in sympathy, but he jumped up again, hoping to catch him off guard.

I didn’t catch him off guard. And Ow.

After several more failed attempts, Will stood up and held out his hands in a gesture of truce. “Okay, what am I doing wrong?” “Nothing.”  He wasn’t as convinced. “If I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I’d have rendered you unconscious by now.”  “Unlikely. Your moves are all correct, but this is the first time you’ve really tried. I’ve done it for years.”  Will shook his head and rolled his eyes at Belikov's older-and-wiser manner. "You focus heavily on technique, and quickly learn it, it is putting it into practice that you struggle with."

He’d once told me he was twenty, so that's probably 6-7 years straight of focused fight training/practice. To be able to replace him as Lissa's guardian, I'm going to have to put extra hours in.

Will nods, before asking him to go again. Belikov obliges, starting another round. Damian speaks up "He's using him, using the best resources available." Steph sits up, "he told him to do so on one of the first days he was there, didn't he?" Tim makes a noise of agreement, pulling up the notes, Steph whispers over him "how romantic." Tim snorts, but when Bruce looks over he shakes his head.

At least my Saturdays are free.

Belikov beats him again. "Can we try it again?” Will asks Belikov, getting back up on his feet, rolling his shoulders. Belikov just looks at him, “ We’re out of time. Don’t you want to get ready?”  Will looked at the dusty clock on the wall and perked up slightly.

Almost time for the banquet. The thought of not having to sneak out and around to talk with people outside of lessons made me hopeful.

“Yeah, I do," Belikov walked off ahead of Will.

Cass perked up and the other vigilantes looked at Will, coming to some realization. "This isn't going to end well." Dick joked.

I can't let the opportunity go by.

Will leapt at his back with a yell, positioning himself exactly the way he’d been taught in the lesson. Before he could make contact, Belikov spun around at a ridiculously high speed. In one deft motion, he grabbed Will easily and threw him to the ground, pinning him there. Sounds of empathic hisses sounded out, "Ouch." Will made little sound, just the sound of the wind being knocked out of his lungs, he recovers quickly. “I thought I had the good technique”.

His eyes looked levelly into mine as he held my wrists, but he didn’t look as serious as he had during the lesson. He seemed to find this funny. “The battle cry sort of gave you away. Try not to yell next time.” It's more fun that way , “It wouldn't have really made a difference if I’d been quiet, would it?” He pretended to think about it, amused, not that he really needed to, I knew the answer. “No. Probably not.” I sighed loudly, not too miffed. There were some advantages to having such a kick-ass teacher—one who also happened to have just over a half- foot of height on me and outweighed me considerably. And that wasn’t even considering his strength. He wasn’t bulky but his body had a lot of hard, lean muscle. If I could ever beat him , I could beat anyone.

"Get up." Bruce grunted out, before sighing and asking again, considerably closer to pleading, "Get up." Dick didn't even try to hide his laughter, gleeful at Bruce's misery, "Hey, he's still thinking of beating him, even whilst flirting, that's all you B." He sat up and solemnly announced, "this is your revenge for all those nights as Robin when Catwoman was out," before breaking out in giggles.

All of a sudden, it occurred to me that he was still holding me down. The skin on his fingers was warm as he clutched my wrists. His face hovered inches from my own, and his legs and torso were actually pressing against mine. Some of his long brown hair hung around his face, and he appeared to be noticing me too, almost like he had that night in the lounge. And oh  God , did he smell good. Breathing became difficult for me, and it had nothing to do with the workout or my lungs being crushed.  I would have given anything to be able to read his mind right then.

"Me too," Steph added, looking to Cass who smiled at her obligingly but not saying anything. "I don't," Bruce said stiffly, head in his hands. Jason patted at him stiffly on his back, sharp smile, "revenge."

Ever since that night in the lounge, I’d noticed him watching me with this same, studious expression. He never actually did it during the training themselves—those were  business . But before and after, he would sometimes lighten up just a little, and I’d see him look at me in a way that was almost admiring. And sometimes, if I was really, really lucky, he’d smile at me. A real smile, too—not the dry one that accompanied the sarcasm we tossed around so often. I didn’t want to admit it to anyone—not to Lissa, not even to myself—but some days, I lived for those smiles. They lit up his face. “Gorgeous” no longer adequately described him. Hoping to appear calm, I tried to think of something professional and guardian-related to say. Instead, I said, “So um…you got any other moves to show me?”

Everyone smiled at Will, especially at his face that looked remarking like Bruce's. Bruce hadn't looked up from his hand, making a pitiful sound, getting another pat on the back.

His lips twitched, and for a moment, I thought I was going to get one of those smiles. My heart leapt. Then, with visible effort, he pushed the smile back and once more became my tough-love mentor. He shifted off me, leaned back on his heels, and rose. “Come on. We should go.”  I scrambled to my own feet and followed him out of the gym. He didn’t look back as he walked.

The mist cut to Will walking into the dorm back into his room.

I mentally kicked myself.  I was crushing on my tutor.

He made a sound mimicking Bruce's grunts he'd been making from his hands minutes ago, as Will shut his door behind him.

Crushing on my older tutor. I had to be out of my mind. He was three years older than me. Old enough to be my…well, okay, nothing. But still older than me. three years was a lot. He’d been learning to write when I was born. When I’d been first learning to fight, first start actually training, he’d probably been kissing people. Probably lots of people, considering how he looked.

"Oh Will." Steph said, "he's down bad."

I so did not need this complication in my life right now.

He went into the bathroom, the sound of the shower starting before the mist skipped forward to Will, hair damp, grabbing a pair of brown trousers from the floor and a thick black sweater from his chair, leaving his room at a quick pace. The vigilantes next saw Will outside a larger building with looming stone walls, fancy statues, and turrets, as he was entering into a modern interior.

I'm grateful we're not like the stereotypical vampires in movies, with old homes, and that the Academy had Wi-Fi, fluorescent lights, and just about anything else technological you could imagine. The commons, in particular, looked pretty much like the cafeterias I'd eaten in while in England, with simple rectangular tables, soothing taupe walls, and a little room to the side leading to the kitchens. Someone had at least hung framed black-and-white photos along the walls in an effort to decorate it, but I didn't really consider pictures of vases and leafless trees "art."

"That's not how it looks now," Duke says slightly amazed, "that's better than our school". "The room looks better than some galas we've been to," Tim added. The vigilantes could see Vases spilling over with crimson roses and delicate white lilies in the corners of the room and dotted around the wall. Glowing candles. Tablecloths made of bloodred linen, making the vigilantes laugh and whisper about the importance of theming, sat upon the tables arranged in straight lines, creating an aisle down the middle of the room.

We had assigned seating, and naturally, I couldn’t sit anywhere near Lissa. She sat in the front with the other Moroi; I was in the back with the novices. But she did catch my eye when I entered and flashed me a smile. She’d borrowed a dress from Natalie—blue, silky, and strapless—that looked amazing with her pale features. They always conducted these formal banquets in the same way.

Tim's typing speed increased at the opportunity to learn about Moroi culture.

A head table sat on a dais at the front of the room, where we could all ooh and ahh and watch Queen Tatiana and other royals eat dinner. Guardians lined the walls, as stiff and formal as statues.

"There's Belikov," Damian pointed out. Bruce couldn't help but recall the bodyguards he'd seen that night that started this.

A weird feeling twisted my stomach as I recalled what had happened in the gym, looking at Dimitri. His eyes stared straight ahead as if focusing on nothing and everything in the room at once. When the time came for the royals‟ entrance, we all stood up respectfully and watched as they walked down the aisle. I recognized a few, mostly those who had children attending the Academy. Victor Dashkov was among them, walking slowly and with a cane. While I was happy to see him, I cringed to watch each agonizing step he took toward the front of the room.

Once that group had passed, four solemn guardians with red-and-black-pin-striped jackets entered the commons. And the vigilantes watched as everyone but the guardians along the walls sank to their knees.

Moroi monarchs were chosen by the previous monarch from within the royal families. The king or queen couldn’t choose one of his or her own direct descendants, and a council from the noble and royal families could dispute the choice with enough cause. That almost never happened, though, I can't recall an example in recent history.

"So a royal democracy?" Jason asked, but no one answered as an elder lady with a dark grey bob entered, wearing a red silk dress, matching jacket and a tiara. She moved into the room slowly, like she was taking a stroll, four more guardians at her back. She moved through the novices‟ section fairly quickly, though she did nod and smile here and there.

Dhampirs might just be the half-human, illegitimate children of the Moroi, but we trained and dedicated our lives to serving and protecting them. The likelihood was strong that many of us gathered here would die young, and the queen had to show her respect for that.

Nobody liked that reminder, the watched in solemn silence as she continued walking, getting to the Moroi section, where the Queen paused longer and actually spoke to a few students.

It was a big deal to be acknowledged, mostly a sign that someone’s parents had gotten in good with her. Naturally, the royals got the most attention. She didn’t really say much to them that was all that interesting, mostly just a lot of fancy words, talking in circles.

"Sounds like Gotham socialite small talk," Duke joked. Several students they didn't know were acknowledged, many smiling amazed at the notice.

“Vasilisa Dragomir.” 

The watched as Will's head shot up.

Alarm coursed through the bond at the sound of her name. Breaking protocol, I pushed out of my position and wiggled over to get a better view, knowing no one would notice me when the queen herself had personally singled out the last of the Dragomir’s. Everyone was eager to see what the monarch had to say to Lissa the runaway princess. 

“We heard you had returned. We are glad to have the Dragomir’s back, even though only one remains. We deeply regret the loss of your parents and your brother; they were among the finest of the Moroi, their deaths a true tragedy.”

Cass had stiffened slightly, moving from her laid back position to look square at the scene in front of her.

Everything sounded okay.

Bruce went to ask Cass something but the Queen continued, silencing him. “You have an interesting name,” she continued. “Many heroines in Russian fairy tales are named Vasilisa. Vasilisa the Brave, Vasilisa the Beautiful. They are different young women, all having the same name and the same excellent qualities: strength, intelligence, discipline, and virtue. All accomplish great things, triumphing over their adversaries. Likewise, the Dragomir name commands its own respect. Dragomir kings and queens have ruled wisely and justly in our history. They have used their powers for miraculous ends. They have slain Strigoi, fighting right alongside their guardians. They are royal for a reason.”

She waited a moment, letting the weight of her words sink in. I could feel the mood changing in the room, as well as the surprise and shy pleasure creeping out from Lissa. This would shake the social balance. She could probably expect a few wannabes trying to get in good with her tomorrow.  

"Yes," Tatiana continued, "you are doubly named with power. Your names represent the finest qualities people have to offer and hearken back in time to deeds of greatness and valour." She paused a moment. "But, as you have demonstrated, names do not make a person. Nor do they have any bearing on how that person turns out.”  

And with that verbal slap in the face, she turned away and continued her procession.

The vigilantes themselves were shocked as if they had been slapped.

A collective shock filled the room. I briefly contemplated and then dismissed any attempts at jumping into the aisle and tackling the queen. Half a dozen guardians would have me down on the floor before I’d even taken five steps.

"His auras going a bit darker again," Duke piped up cautiously, "not as bad but-"

No one had been able to come to an agreement on what it meant, the strongest running theory was that it was like feedback from Lissa's and his own feelings, adding to each other until they are out of control, though they all felt they didn't have enough information. "Lissa's embarrassed, and anxious, and Wills feeling angry and protective, mix them together, its probably not the best emotion cocktail," Dick posed, still shocked from the public humiliation.

So I sat impatiently through dinner, all the while feeling Lissa’s absolute mortification.

The vigilantes were spared from the entire dinner as the mist skipped forward to after it finished. They watched as Lissa made a beeline for the doors leading out to the courtyard, with Will dutifully watching her, getting delayed having to weave around and avoid the mingling, socializing people. He hadn't lost sight of her, having caught her wandering outside to an adjacent courtyard, one that matched the Academy’s grand external style. Rounding a corner, Will stopped when he saw Natalie had beaten him to Lissa.

I considered interrupting but stepped back before they could see me. Spying might be bad, but I was suddenly very curious to hear what Natalie had to say to Lissa.

Why? Bruce wondered. Cass was staring at her, "She's curious, digging for information."

"She shouldn't have said that," Natalie said, "It wasn't right," she went on. “Don’t let it bother you.”  “Kind of late for that.” Lissa’s eyes were locked firmly on the stone walkway below.  “She was wrong.”  “She’s right,” Lissa exclaimed. “My parents…and Andre…they would have hated me for what I did.”   "No, they wouldn't have," Natalie spoke in a gentle voice.  “It was stupid to run away. Irresponsible.”  "So what? You made a mistake. I make mistakes all the time. The other day, I was doing this assignment in science, and it was for chapter ten, and I'd actually read chapter eleven—"

Natalie stopped herself, and in a remarkable show of restraint, got herself back on track.

"People change. We're always changing, right? You aren't the same as you were then. I'm not the same as I was then."  

Actually, Natalie seemed  exactly  the same to me, but that didn’t bother me so much anymore. She’d grown on me.

“Besides,” she added, “was running away really a mistake? You must have done it for a reason. You must have gotten something out of it, right? There was a lot of bad stuff going on with you, wasn’t there? With your parents and your brother. I mean, maybe it was the right thing to do.”  Lissa hid a smile.  

Both of us were pretty sure Natalie was still trying to find out why we had left—just like everyone else in the school. She sort of sucked at being sneaky.

Cass relaxed slightly, still staring at her. “I don’t know if it was, no,” Lissa answered. “I was weak. Andre wouldn’t have run away. He was so good. Good at everything. Good at getting along with people and all that royal crap.”  

“You’re good at that too.”

“I guess. But I don’t like it. I mean, I like people…but most of what they do is so fake. That’s what I don’t like.” 

“Then don’t feel bad about not getting involved,” Natalie said. “I don’t hang out with all those people either, and look at me. I’m just fine. Daddy says he doesn’t care if I hang out with the royals or not. He just wants me to be happy.”  

“And that,” Will said, finally making his appearance, “is something i fully fucking agree with.”

Natalie nearly jumped ten feet. I felt pretty confident her vocabulary of swear words mostly consisted of “golly” and “darn.”  “I wondered where you were,” said Lissa.  Natalie looked back and forth between us, suddenly seeming a little embarrassed to be right between the best-friends dream team. She shifted uncomfortably and tucked some messy hair behind her ear. “Well…I should go find Daddy. I’ll see you back in the room.”  “See you,” said Lissa. “And thanks.”  Natalie hurried off.  

“Does she really call him ‘Daddy’?”  Lissa cut Will a look. “Leave her alone. She’s nice.”  “She is, actually. I heard what she said, It was all true.” He paused. “I’ll kill her, you know. The queen, not Natalie. Screw the guardians. I’ll do it. She can’t get away with that.”

"Will he?"" Jason asked. Duke shook his head, "I don't know, his aura's odd but not in control, it doesn't take over."

“God, Will! Don’t say that. They’ll arrest you for treason. Just let it go.”  “Let it go? After what she said to you? In front of everyone?” HE wasn't angry, more like brainstorming, Bruce relaxing incrementally, though Jason noticed and glared at him slightly.

She didn’t answer or even look at me. Instead, she toyed absentmindedly with the branches of a scraggly bush that had gone dormant for the winter. There was a vulnerable look about her that I recognized—and feared.

"She needs support," Steph muttered and when Duke turned to look at her she mocked, "I know, we're all hypocrites." She stuck out her tongue as Jason mock gasped.

They turned when Will lowered his voice, “Hey. Don’t look like that. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about, okay? Don’t let this get you down. Don’t do anything you shouldn’t.” She glanced back up at him. “ It’s going to happen again, isn’t it?” she whispered. Her hand, still clutching the tree, began to tremble. “Not if you don’t let it.”

"What happened?" Dick questioned, Damian turned and raised his eyebrow, "he can't hear you."

He tried to look at her wrists without being too obvious, and the vigilantes all sucked in a breath. “You haven’t?…” “No.” She shook her head and blinked back tears. “I haven’t wanted to. I was upset after the fox, but it’s been okay. I like the coasting thing. I miss seeing you, but everything’s been all right. I like…” She paused.

I could hear the word-forming in her mind.

“Christian.” The voices of several vigilantes and Will melded together. “Will-.”  “Lissa I don't know if he's trustworthy, we don't know much about him?” “I know, you keep reminding me,” she muttered.

I tried to say something, hoping it wouldn't be some intelligible mess and that i could properly convey what I'm thinking, when I heard the sound of laughter and the clatter of high heels on stone.

The mist had a slight delay, the sound only audible when Mia walked toward them with a few friends in tow into the mist's scene.

No Aaron.

Immediately his face hardened, donning a mask of irritation and indifference, he shielded Lissa slightly, casually moving in front of her. The vigilantes noticed, Mia didn't seem to.

Internally, Lissa was still shaken over the queen’s comments. Sorrow and humiliation were swirling inside of her. She felt embarrassed over what others must think of her now and kept thinking about how her family would have hated her for running away. I didn’t believe that, but it felt real to her, and her dark emotions churned and churned. She was not okay, no matter how casual she’d just tried to act, and I was worried she might do something reckless. Mia was the last person she needed to see right now.

“What do you want?” he demanded.  Mia smiled haughtily at Lissa and ignored Will, taking a few steps forward. “Just wanted to know what it’s like to be so important and so royal. You must be so excited that the queen talked to you.” Giggles surfaced from the gathering group.  “You’re standing too close.” he stepped between them, forgoing any subtlety, and Mia flinched a little, “And hey at least the queen knew her name, which is more than I can say for you and your wannabe-royal act. Or your parents.”

" Ouch," Dick murmured.

I could see the pain that caused her. Man, she wanted to be royal so badly.

“At least I see my parents,” she retorted. “At least I know who they both are. God only knows who your father is. And your mom’s one of the most famous guardians around, but she couldn’t care less about you either. Everyone knows she never visits. Probably was glad when you were gone. If she even noticed.”

The vigilantes froze hearing that. Bruce flinched as if hit, and Damian glared at her.

Ouch. That hurt, probably not for the reasons she thinks, but still. A small part of me wanted to smirk.

Instead he clenched his teeth. “Yeah, well, at least she’s famous. She really does advise royals and nobles. She doesn’t clean up after them.” One of her friends could be heard making a snicker behind her. Mia opened her mouth, when she seemed to come to a realization.

"Uh Oh" Duke whispered.

“It was you,” she said, eyes wide. “Someone told me Jesse’d started it, but he couldn’t have known anything about me. He got it from you. When you slept with him.”

He breathed though his nose sharply, “I didn’t sleep with him.”  Mia pointed at Lissa and glared back at Will. “So that’s it, huh? You do her dirty work because she’s too pathetic to do it herself. You aren’t always going to be able to protect her,” she warned. “You aren’t safe either.”  

"Was that a threat?" Damian demanded," Did sh-"

"His auras darkening again," Duke cut Damian off, "his and Lissa's are acting odd."

Empty threats. I leaned forward, making my voice as menacing as possible. In my current mood, it wasn’t difficult.

"Guess we can say we're pretty accurate with the theory then." Jason asked, "you think he's going to punch her?"

“Yeah? Try and touch me now and find out.”  

I hoped she would. I wanted her to. We didn’t need her messed-up vendetta in our lives just now. She was a distraction—one I very much wanted to punch right now.

His eyes were drawn past Mia, and the mist grew to show Belikov move out into the garden, eyes searching for something—or someone. When he saw Will, he strode forward, shifting his attention when he noticed the crowd gathered around us.

Guardians can smell a fight a mile away. Of course, a six-year-old could have smelled this fight.

Several vigilantes couldn't swallow their laughter at his thought's. Dimitri went to stand beside Will and crossed his arms. “Everything all right?”  “Sure thing, Guardian Belikov.” he smiled as he said it, a mirror of Brucies smile after several long nights, not the best fake smile.

I was furious. Raging, even. This whole Mia confrontation had only made Lissa feel worse.

“We were just swapping family stories. Ever heard Mia’s? It’s fascinating.”   “Come on,” said Mia to her followers. She led them off, but not before she gave Will one last, chilling look.

I didn’t need to read her mind to know what it said. This wasn’t over. She was going to try to get one or both of us back. Fine. Bring it on, Mia.  

“I’m supposed to take you back to your dorm,” Dimitri told Will drily. “You weren’t about to just start a fight, were you?”  “Of course not,” he said, his eyes still staring at the empty doorway Mia had disappeared through. “I don’t start fights where people can see them.”   “Will,” groaned Lissa.  “Let’s go. Good night, Princess.” He turned, but Will didn’t move, looking at Vasilissa,“You going to be okay, Liss?” She nodded. “I’m fine.” 

It was such a lie, I couldn’t believe she had the nerve to try to put it past me. I didn’t need the bond to see tears shining in her eyes. We should never have come back to this place, I realized bleakly.  

“Liss…”  She gave him a small, sad smile and nodded in Dimitri’s direction, “I told you, I’m fine. You’ve got to go.” Reluctantly, he followed Belikov. He led me him toward the other side of the garden. “We may need to add an extra training on self-control,” he noted.

"I wish him the best," Alfred's voice rang out from the door, carrying drinks and some finger foods. No one took their eyes of the mist, thanking him and trying to get him to sit down.

“I have plenty of self contr—hey!” The vigilantes went silent as Will, having stopped his conversation with Belikov, turned around to face Christian.. He had been moving to slip past the two of them down the path they'd just came from, but stopped at Wills voice.

I hadn’t seen him at the reception, but if Kirova had released me to come tonight, I suppose she would have done the same for him.

“You going to see Lissa?” I asked, shifting my Mia rage to him, she was still confused, upset, lost. I should be with her, if he says or does the wrong thing she could-.

 He stuffed his hands into his pockets and gave him a look of bad-boy indifference. “What if I am?” “Will, this isn’t the time,” said Dimitri.

"He's taking on too much, he's not talking to anyone," Bruce tonelessly said, hypocritically.

But it was so the time. Lissa had ignored my warnings about Christian for weeks. It was time to go to the source and stop their meetings for once and for all. “Why can't you just leave her alone? Are you so messed up and desperate for attention that you can’t tell when someone doesn’t have the time for whatever this is?”

He scowled. Will continued, “You’re some crazy stalker, and she knows it. She’s told me all about your weird obsession—how you’re always hanging out in the attic together, how you set Ralf on fire to impress her. She’s too nice to say anything-.”  His face had paled, and something dark churned in his eyes, cutting Will off, “But you aren’t too nice?”  “No. Not when I feel sorry for someone.”

"Ouch."

“Enough,” said Dimitri, steering Will away.  “Thanks for helping, then,” snapped Christian, his voice dripping with animosity.  “No problem,” Will called back over his shoulder. When they'd gone a little way, he stole a glance behind him and saw Christian standing just outside the garden. He’d stopped walking and now stood staring down the path that led to Lissa in the courtyard. Shadows covered his face as he thought, and then, after a few moments, he turned around and headed back toward the Moroi dorms.

"That's not going to end well," Steph grimaced, "Does it ever for any of us?" Jason replied.

The mist snapped to his dorm, Will restlessly sleeping. But then, he sat up in bed, taking deep exaggerated breaths.

No one dared to talk, couldn't bare to break through the uneasy feeling that had settled on everyone.

Lissa. Scared and upset. Unstable. The night’s events suddenly came rushing back to me as I went through what could be bothering her. The queen humiliating her. Mia. Maybe even Christian—he could have found her for all I knew. Yet…none of those was the problem right now. Buried within her, there was something else. Something terribly wrong.

He climbed out of bed, dressed hastily, tugging on his boots-

Let's consider my options. My dorm room was way too high to climb down from, particularly since I had no Ms. Karp to patch me up this time. I would never be able to sneak out of the main hall again, the Janitor may not have told them what i was doing sneaking out, but Kirova had heard and didn't seem to appreciate me leaving, so another guardian had been assigned- and they'd actually started checking my hallway and the alcoves. That only left going through the “appropriate” channels.

He opened the door, it nearly silent even though he wasn't being careful or taking care to be quiet. “Where do you think you’re going?” A lady asked Will, looking up from her chair. She sat stationed at the end of the hall, near the stairs going down. He crossed my arms. “I need to see Dim—Guardian Belikov.”

"Clever," Tim smiled.

“It’s late.”  “It’s an emergency.”  She looked him up and down. “You seem okay to me.”  “You’re going to be in so much trouble tomorrow when everyone finds out you stopped me from reporting what I know.” “Tell me.”  “It’s private guardian stuff.” He gave her a hard stare, like Batman does when he questions thugs, a look that demands answers, not questions.

The look must have worked, because she finally stood up and pulled out a cell phone. She called someone—Dimitri, I hoped—but murmured too low for me to hear. We waited several minutes, and then the door leading to the stairs opened. Dimitri appeared, fully dressed and alert, though I felt pretty sure we’d pulled him out of bed. 

He took one look at Will. “Lissa.”  he nodded.  Without another word, they turned around and started back down the stairs. They walked across the quad in silence, toward the imposing Moroi dorm.

It was “night” for the vampires, which meant it was daytime for the rest of the world. Mid-afternoon sun shone with a cold, golden light on us. The human genes in me welcomed it and always sort of regretted how Moroi light sensitivity forced us to live in darkness most of the time. 

Lissa’s hall matron gaped when the two appeared, but both of them were too intimidating to oppose and she let them pass. When the matron unlocked the door to Lissa's dorm, Will turned to the two adults “She’s in the bathroom.” When the matron started to follow him inside, he wouldn’t let her. “She’s too upset. Let me talk to her alone first.” Dimitri considered. “Yes. Give them a minute.” He shut the door behind him before he moved to the bathroom. “Liss?”  A soft sound, like a sob, came from within. He knocked softly.

“Let me in,” I said, hoping I sounded calm and strong.  I heard a sniffle, and a few moments later, the door unlatched. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.

Neither were the vigilantes, when the mist grew to show into the bathroom, the sight of blood switching them into vigilante mode, cataloguing the scene in front of them.

Lissa stood before me…covered in blood. Horrified, I swallowed my disgust, looking more closely, I saw that a lot of the blood wasn’t actually coming from her. It was smeared on her, like it had been on her hands and she’d rubbed her face. She sank to the floor, and I followed, kneeling before her.  “Are you okay?” I whispered. “What happened?” She only shook her head, but I saw her face crumple as more tears spilled from her eyes. I took her hands.  “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned—” 

He stopped, and the vigilantes sucked in a breath when they saw what he was looking at.

She  was  bleeding after all. Perfect lines crossed her wrists, not near any crucial veins, but enough to leave wet, red tracks across her skin. She hadn’t hit her veins when she did this; death hadn’t been her goal.

She met his eyes.  “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…Please don’t let them know…” she sobbed. “When I saw it, I freaked out.” She nodded toward her wrists. “This just happened before I could stop. I was upset…”  “It’s okay,” he said automatically,

What is 'it'?

“Come on.” he said, faking confidence. They heard a knock on the door. “Will?”  “Just a sec,” I called back.  I took her to the sink and rinsed the blood off her wrists. Grabbing the first-aid kit, he hastily put some Band-Aids on the cuts. The bleeding had already slowed.

"No, show them, show Belikov, show anyone," Dick whispered.

“We’re coming in,” the matron called.  Will jerked off my hoodie sweatshirt and quickly handed it to Lissa. She had just pulled it on when Dimitri and the matron entered. He raced to their sides in an instant.

Fuck, in hiding Lissa’s wrists, I’d forgotten the blood on her face.

“It’s not mine,” she said quickly, seeing his expression. “It…it’s the rabbit…” Dimitri assessed her, "check her wrists" Duke pleaded.

I hoped he wouldn’t look at her wrists.

After he checked her over and he seemed satisfied she had no gaping wounds, he asked, “What rabbit?”

I was wondering the same thing.

With shaking hands, she pointed at the trash can. “I cleaned it up. So Natalie wouldn’t see.”  Dimitri and Will both walked over and peered into the can. Will pulled myself away immediately, swallowing back his stomach’s need to throw up.  "What was it?" Tim asked, moving his head as if he would be able to see if better.

I don’t know how Lissa knew it was a rabbit. All I could see was blood. Blood and blood-soaked paper towels. Globs of gore I couldn’t identify. The smell was horrible.

"I'm good actually," Tim forced out, Duke had turned slightly green and Damian had locked his jaw. Dimitri shifted closer to Lissa, bending down until they were at eye level. “Tell me what happened.” He handed her several tissues.  “I came back about an hour ago. And it was there. Right there in the middle of the floor. Torn apart. It was like it had…exploded.” She sniffed. “I didn’t want Natalie to find it, didn’t want to scare her…so I-I cleaned it up. Then I just couldn’t…I couldn’t go back…” She began to cry, and her shoulders shook. Will moved closer to her, and pangs of sympathy hit the vigilantes, "What the fuck is going on?" Duke asked nobody in particular. No one had an answer.

I could figure out the rest, the part she didn’t tell Dimitri. She’d found the rabbit, cleaned up, and freaked out. Then she’d cut herself, but it was the way she coped with things that upset her. I didn't like it, having spent hours researching ways to help her. They worked, usually, but... butchered animals wasn't a normal part of our life, it was too much.

“No one should be able to get into those rooms!” exclaimed the matron. “How is this happening?”  “Do you know who did it?” Dimitri’s voice was gentle.  Lissa reached into her pajama pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. Will moved closer to Belikov to read it.

It had so much blood soaked into it, I could barely read it as he held it and smoothed it out.

I know what you are. You won’t survive being here. I’ll make sure of it. Leave now. It’s the only way you might live through this . 

As the matron and Belikov helped Lissa clean up and worked to tie up the bin bag and lift if from the bin, the vigilantes were a buzz with confusion, "That's why they left," Jason said, "or it has something to do with it."

"We aren't going to leave her there are we?" Damian asked turning to Bruce, "She'll be living with us, yes?" Bruce was still analysing the scene, Damian continued undeterred, "They aren't taking care of her, and we have several allies with different accommodations; blood won't be an issue."

Bruce turned his head towards him but his eyes were on the mist, unwilling to miss a second in case it held valuable evidence, "We'll see." The matron’s shock had transformed into something more determined, and she headed for the door. “I’m getting Ellen.”

It took me a second to remember that was Kirova’s first name.

“Tell her well be at the clinic,” said Dimitri. When she left, he turned to Lissa. “You should lie down.”  When she didn’t move, Will linked his arm through hers. “Come on, Liss. Let’s get you out of here." Dimitri guarded her from behind.

Slowly, she put one foot in front of the other and let us lead her to the Academy’s medical clinic. It was normally staffed by a couple of doctors, but at this time of night, only a nurse stayed on duty. She offered to wake one of the doctors, but Dimitri declined. “She just needs to rest.”

The mist caught up with Wills commentary, showing a white room lined with bed and some medical equipment, Will entering the room and helping Lissa into on of the beds. Lissa had no sooner stretched out on a narrow bed when Kirova and a few other older people showed up and started questioning her.

"She needs rest," Duke stated sharply, and Lissa seemed to freeze up at the barrage of questions.

Will thrust himself in front of them, blocking her from their view. “Leave her alone! Can’t you see she doesn’t want to talk about it? Let her get some sleep first!” “Mr Hathaway,” declared Kirova, “you’re out of line as usual. I don’t even know what you’re doing here.”

Dimitri asked if he could speak with her privately and led her into the hall. The vigilantes couldn't hear anything from them.

I heard angry whispers from her, calm and firm ones from him, but i kept my focus on Lissa and the staff, keeping them away from her.

When they returned, she said stiffly, “You may stay with her for a little while. We’ll have janitors do further cleaning and investigation in the bathroom and your room, Miss Dragomir, and then discuss the situation in detail in the morning.” “Don’t wake Natalie,” whispered Lissa. “I don’t want to scare her. I cleaned up everything in the room anyway.”  Kirova looked doubtful. The group retreated but not before the nurse asked if Lissa wanted anything to eat or drink. She declined.

Once we were alone, I lay down beside her and put my arm around her. I could sense her worry about her wrists.

“I won’t let them find out,” he told her, “But I wish you’d told me before I left the reception. You’d said you’d always come to me first.”

“I wasn’t going to do it then,” she said, her eyes staring blankly off. “I swear, I wasn’t going to. I mean, I was upset…but I thought…I thought I could handle it. I was trying so hard…really, Will. I was. But then I got back to my room, and I saw it, and I…just lost it. It was like the last straw, you know? And I knew I had to clean it up. Had to clean it up before they saw, before they found out, but there was so much blood…and afterward, after it was done, it was too much, and I felt like I was going to…I don’t know…explode, and it was just too much, I had to let it out, you know? I had to—”   He interrupted her. “It’s okay, I understand.”

"He should tell someone," Duke said.

"Who can he trust?" Tim said flatly.

That was a lie. I didn’t get her cutting at all. She’d done it sporadically, ever since the accident, and it scared me each time. She’d try to explain it to me, how she didn’t want to die—she just needed to get  it  out somehow. She felt so much emotionally, she would say that a physical outlet—physical pain—was the only way to make the internal pain go away. It was the only way she could control it. I got that part, sometimes my feelings- and hers- would get too much but i always used exercise as the outlet.

“Why is this happening?” she cried into her pillow. “Why am I a freak?”  “You aren’t a freak.”  “No one else has this happen to them. No one else does magic like I can.”

The vigilantes perked up, "the healing."

“Did you try to do magic?” No answer. “Liss? Did you try to heal the rabbit?”  “I reached out, just to see if I could maybe fix it, but there was just too much blood…I couldn’t.”

The more she uses it, the worse it’ll get. Stop her.

"That wasn't his voice." They all spoke over each other, confused.

Lissa was right. Moroi magic could conjure fire and water, move rocks and other pieces of earth. But no one could heal or bring animals back from the dead. No one except Ms. Karp. 

Stop her before they notice, before they notice and take her away too. Get her out of here.

I hated carrying this secret, mostly because I didn’t know what to do about it. I didn’t like feeling powerless. I needed to protect her from this—and from herself. And yet, at the same time, I needed to protect her from  them , too.

“We should go,” he said abruptly. “We’re going to leave.”  “Will—”  “It’s happening again. And it’s worse. Worse than last time.”  “You’re afraid of the note.”  “I’m not afraid of any note. But this place isn’t safe.”

I suddenly longed for England again. It might be dirtier and more crowded than the rugged Spanish landscape, but at least you knew what to expect—not like here. Here at the Academy, past and present warred with each other. It might have its beautiful old walls and gardens, but inside, modern things were creeping in. People didn’t know how to handle that. It was just like the Moroi themselves. Their archaic royal families still held the power on the surface, but people were growing discontent. Dhampirs who wanted more to their lives. Moroi like Christian who wanted to fight the Strigoi. The royals still clung to their traditions, still touted their power over everyone else, just as the Academy’s elaborate iron gates put on a show of tradition and invincibility.  And, oh, the lies and secrets. They ran through the halls and hid in the corners. Someone here hated Lissa, someone who was probably smiling right to her face and pretending to be her friend. I couldn’t let them destroy her.

No one knew what to say. All Bruce could remember was the fierce protection Will had when he shielded Lissa from the Guardians who'd came to collect them, how even weak he tried to fight against him. "Do- do you think they'll run away again?"

Will's voice drew their attention, “You need to get some sleep,” he told her.  “I can’t sleep.”  “Yes, you can. I’m right here. You won’t be alone.” 

Anxiety and fear and other troubled emotions coursed through her. But in the end, her body’s needs won out. After a while, I saw her eyes close. Her breathing became even, and the bond grew quiet.  I watched her sleep, too keyed up with adrenaline to allow myself any rest. I think maybe an hour had passed when the nurse returned and told me I had to leave.

He sat up and stared at the nurse, “I can’t go. I promised her she wouldn’t be alone.”

The nurse looked kindly at him, "She won’t be. I’ll stay with her.”  Will regarded her skeptically and she added, “I promise.” They watched as he took one last look at Lissa before leaving the room. The mist smoothly transitioned to his dorm room, where he took off his shoes and just crashed.

The fear and excitement had worn me out too, and for an instant, I wished I could have a normal life and a normal best friend. Immediately, I cast that thought out. No one was normal, not really. And I’d never have a better friend than Lissa…but man, it was so hard sometimes.

"We need a break," Bruce said, already leaving.

The others were still looking at the crystal, even though the scene had stopped and retreated.

"Yeah, we need to go somewhere else-" Tim was interrupted.
"Touch some grass," Steph finished, before leaving the room with a weak laugh, taking one last look as the crystal.

The others evacuated pretty quickly, leaving the crystal sitting there.

Chapter Text

"Right, any theories on who's doing this freaky voodoo shit?" Jason broke the quiet shuffling as everyone settled back in. 
"No," Bruce gritted out, and you can almost hear his teeth grinding from across the room. 
Cass shook her head, "the crystal doesn't show everything, the bits and pieces I've seen don't give me a full picture."
"And that's if we've even seen them, they may be someone neither of them even know," Steph added frustrated. 
Bruce breathed deeply through his nose, and glared at the crystal, "Who is doing this?"
Everyone turned to the crystal, but it didn't respond, made no move to answer, and Bruce broke his one-sided staring contest to pray to the ceiling, "please continue."

It answered enthusiastically not wasting time and exploding into a clear image.

"Another classroom," Tim jokingly complained, "i mean I know its a boarding school but still-" He was shut up by Stephanie chucking a pillow at his face.

The sound was muted so no one was able to make anything out, but Will walked in and sat down, surveying the room carefully. 

I went to my first class tentatively, nervous that word about last night had gotten around. As it turned out, people were talking about last night, but their attention was still focused on the queen and the reception. They knew nothing about the rabbit. As hard as it was to believe, I’d nearly forgotten about that other stuff. Still, it suddenly seemed like a small thing compared to someone causing a bloody explosion in Lissa’s room.

""Really?" Jason sarcastically muttered. The mist moved forward showing instances  where groups of people were whispering but stopped when they got near, and where people kept looking at him before turning and whispering even quieter amongst themselves. But then he was alone and they kept it up there behaviour.

Yet, as the day went on, I noticed something weird. People stopped looking at Lissa so much. The started looking at me. Whatever.

The mist moved to him, alone again, with another group of students glancing at him. He barley looked at them, instead keeping a steady pace towards a building. He found Lissa at the feeders.
The room got slightly uncomfortable at the sight of Lissa feeding, some human part of them uneasy at this inhuman display.

That funny feeling I always got came over me as I watched her mouth work against the feeder’s neck, drinking his blood. A trickle of it ran down his throat, standing out against his pale skin. Feeders, though human, were nearly as pale as Moroi from all the blood loss. He didn’t seem to notice; he was long gone on the high of the bite. Drowning in jealousy, I decided I needed therapy.

"What? A Wayne, open to the idea of therapy? I can't- don't believe this!" Jason acted out, collapsing to the floor. "Inconceivable!"

The mist moved to later in the 'day', Will walking next to Lissa. “You okay?” he asked her. She wore long sleeves, purposefully obscuring her wrists, and she had to fight to stop herself from pulling them down. “Yeah…I still can’t stop thinking about that rabbit…It was so horrible. I keep seeing it in my head. And then what I did.” She squeezed her eyes shut, just for a moment, and then opened them again. “People are talking about us.” “I know. Ignore them.” “I hate it,” she said angrily. 
"Woah, aura's going off." Duke shot up.

A surge of darkness shot up into her and through the bond. It made me cringe. My best friend was lighthearted and kind. She didn’t have feelings like that. 

Lissa kept going "I hate all the gossip. It’s so stupid. How can they all be so shallow?” “Ignore them,” he repeated soothingly. “You were smart not to hang out with them anymore." 
Will pushed her in front of him, towards the classroom, and then closed his eyes and did some breathing exercise until his shoulders fell back down. Duke relaxed with him. Everyone noticed and was able to breathe easier. 

Ignoring them grew harder and harder, though. The whispers and looks increased. In animal behavior, it became so bad, I couldn’t even concentrate on the subject. Ms. Meissner had started talking about evolution and survival of the fittest and how animals sought mates with good genes. It fascinated me, but even she had a hard time staying on task, since she had to keep yelling at people to quiet down and pay attention.

Scenes matching his thoughts flashed before them, "I have a bad feeling about this." Dick dragged out, as the mist focused on Will catching up to Lissa in between classes.
“Something’s going on,” he said, “I don’t know what, but they’re all over something new.” 
“Something else? Other than the queen hating me? What more could there be?” “Wish I knew.” 

Things finally came to a head in our last class of the day, Slavic art. It started when a guy I barely knew made a very explicit and nearly obscene suggestion to me while we all worked on individual projects. I replied in kind, letting him know exactly what he could do with his request.  He only laughed. “Come on, Will. I bleed for you.”  Loud giggles ensued, and Mia cut us a taunting look. “Wait, it’s Will who does the bleeding, right?”  More laughter. Understanding slapped me in the face. I jerked Lissa away. 

The vigilantes stiffened, the mist hadn't caught up, so they hadn't witnessed the interaction, instead watching as Will moved Lissa away from him. He couldn't hide his fear from the vigilantes but seemed to be doing a good job shielding Lissa from it. 

“They know.” “Know what?” “About us. About how you…you know, how I fed you while we were gone.” She gaped. “How?”

I don't know. This isn't- I don't. This won't ruin her in the long run, even as a woman at the end of the day she's a Moroi- a royal- the last of her family. But m- That doesn't matter at the moment. 

His face was blank, a reflection of Bruce's. Tim spoke up, "Christina knows, and- "Jesse mentioned it" Bruce finished flatly. Will seemed to come to the same conclusions, his eyes searching the room, he found Christina first. Lissa noticed. “No,” she said adamantly. “He wouldn’t have.” “Who else knew for certain?” 

Faith in Christian flashed in her eyes and in our bond. But she didn’t know what I knew. She didn’t know how I’d bitched him out last night, how I’d made him think she hated him. Spreading our biggest secret—well, one of them—would be an adequate revenge. 

Not waiting around to hear her protests, he stalked off to the other side of the room where Christian was working by himself.

Working by himself, as usual. 

Lissa followed, and not caring if people saw, he leaned across the table toward him, putting my face inches from his. "Fuck you.” 
"He's seventeen," Bruce whispered to no one. 

His eyes darted to Lissa, the faintest glimmer of longing in them, and then a scowl spread over his face. “You can stop it, you know,” he said. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.”  Lissa’s giddy attraction vanished, replaced by hurt and shock over his tone. “I…what? Pretend what?…”  “You know what. Just stop. Stop with the act.”  Lissa stared at him, her eyes wide and wounded. She had no clue I’d gone off on him last night. She had no clue that he believed she hated him.  

“Get over feeling sorry for yourself, and tell us what’s going on,” Will snapped at him forcing Christian to look at him. “Did you or didn’t you tell them?”  He fixed Will with a defiant look. “No. I didn’t.” Will didn't say anything, just glared at him, his jaw ticked, and Christian scoffed, "you don't believe me.  “I do,” said Lissa.  “I know it’s impossible to believe someone like me with nothing better to do, could keep his mouth shut—especially since neither of you can—but I have better things to do than spread stupid rumors. You want someone to blame? Blame your golden boy over there.” 
Everyone followed his gaze to where Jesse was laughing about something with that idiot Ralf. “Jesse doesn’t know,” said Lissa defiantly.  Christian’s eyes were glued to Will. “He does, though. Doesn’t he, Will? He knows.”  

My stomach sank out of me. Yes. Jesse did know. He’d figured it out that night in the lounge. 

“I didn’t think…I didn’t think he’d tell. He was too afraid of Dimitri.”  “You told him?” exclaimed Lissa.  “No, he guessed.” 

I was starting to feel sick. I don't know how to damage control this, Lissa's reputation-

"What about his?" Bruce asked desperation leaking through his clenched teeth. "He looks likes he's going to have a panic attack" Duke murmured. 
“He apparently did more than guess,” muttered Christian. The vigilantes leaned forward. Will turned on him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh. You don’t know.”  “I swear to God, Christian, I’m going to break your neck after class.” “Man, you really are unstable.” 

He said it almost happily, but his next words were more serious. He still wore that sneer, still glowed with anger, but when he spoke, I could hear the faintest uneasiness in his voice. 

“He sort of elaborated on what was in your note. Got into a little more detail.”  “Oh, I get it. He said we had sex.” Bruce flinched as if he'd been slapped, he didn't want to hear that. Will didn’t seem to need to mince words. 
Christian nodded. 

So. Jesse was trying to boost his own reputation. Okay. That I could deal with. Not like my reputation was that stellar to begin with. Everyone already believed I had sex all the time. A small part of me was relieved it has next to nothing to do with Lissa, she'd be fine, and with my reputation there was probably already rumours. 

"That's Brucie thinking," Jason tried to lighten the mood, as if he hand wasn't itching for his gun. “And uh, Ralf too. That you and he—”

Ralf? No amount of alcohol or any illegal substance would make me touch him. 

Will furrowed his brows, and Christian nodded again. Will gritted his teeth. “There’s more.” “How? Did I sleep with the basketball team?” “He said—they both said—you let them…well, you let them drink your blood.”

That stopped even me. Drinking blood during sex. The dirtiest of the dirty. Sleazy. Beyond being easy or a slut. A gazillion times worse than Lissa drinking from me for survival. Blood-whore territory. 

Damian stormed out, the door slamming behind him. The vigilantes were pissed off, but the mist didn't stop to let them breathe, moving on.
“That’s crazy!” Lissa cried. “Will would never—Will?”

I wasn’t listening anymore. I was in my own world, a world that took me across the classroom to where Jesse and Ralf sat. They both looked up, faces half smug and half…nervous, if I had to guess. Not unexpected, since they were both lying through their teeth. The entire class came to a standstill. Apparently they’d been expecting some type of showdown. My unstable reputation in action.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a low, dangerous voice. The students had quietened down, on the edge of their seats. 

 Jesse’s nervous look turned to one of terror. He might have been taller than me, but we both knew who would win if I turned violent. Ralf, however, gave me a cocky smile.

“We didn’t do anything you didn’t want us to do.” His smiled turned cruel. “And don’t even think about laying a hand on us. You start a fight, and Kirova’ll kick you out to go live with the other blood whores.” 

The rest of the students were holding their breaths, waiting to see what we’d do. I don’t know how Mr. Nagy could have been oblivious to the drama occurring in his class. I wanted to punch both of them, hit them so hard that it’d make Dimitri’s brawl with Jesse look like a pat on the back. I wanted to wipe that smirk off Ralf’s face. But asshole or not, he was right. If I touched them, Kirova would expel me in the blink of an eye. And if I got kicked out, Lissa would be alone. Taking a deep breath, I made one of the hardest decisions of my life. I walked away.

The mist suddenly snapped to the dorm, Will narrating at his walked past the desk, up the several flights of stairs, dodging people before slamming his door shut behind him.

The rest of the day was miserable. In backing down from the fight, I opened myself up to mockery from everyone else. The rumors and whispers grew louder. People stared at me openly. People laughed.

Lissa kept trying to talk to me, to console me, but I ignored even her. I went through the rest of my classes like a zombie, and then I headed off to practice with Dimitri as fast I could.

He gave me a puzzled look but didn’t ask any questions.

Alone in his room, Will threw his bag at his wardrobe, causing the door to snap shut and the clothes resting on the door to fall.

"He's.... crying" Bruce forced out.

Once I got that out of my system,

Bruce shook his head as it fell into his hands, huffing a choked laugh. Will was rubbing his eyes and stretching, reaching for some pajamas but then a knock was heard at his door.

He scrubbed his face and took and deep breath before he opened it.

Dimitri.

"Aww," Dick whispered.

He studied my face and then glanced away, obviously aware I’d been crying. I could tell, too, that the rumors had finally reached him. He knew.

“Are you okay?” Dimitri asked Will. “It doesn’t matter if I am, remember?” he looked up. “Is Lissa okay? This’ll" Will starts to gestures to him but stops "be hard on her.”

"I think he takes the guardian thing too far," Duke shook his head.

"He inherited that from Bruce," Steph replied easily, though Tim raised his eyebrow at her.

"Shush."

A funny look crossed his face. I think it astonished him that I’d still be worried about her at a time like this.

He beckoned Will to follow and led him out to a back stairwell, and he gestured Will outside. “Five minutes,” he warned. Though his face was carefully blank his eyes showed his curiousit and heI stepped outside.

The mist spread out further to show Lissa was there.

I should have sensed she was close, but my own out-of-control feelings had obscured hers.

Without a word, she put her arms around him and held me for several moments. His body was stiff, and they could see his face holding back tears. When they broke apart, she looked at him calmly.

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “Not your fault. It’ll pass," his voice was gruff.

She clearly doubted that. So did I.

“It is my fault,” she said. “She did it to get back at me.” Will froze minutely, “She?” The vigilantes eyes furrowed.

“Mia. Jesse and Ralf aren’t smart enough to think of something like that on their own. You said it yourself: Jesse was too scared of Dimitri to talk much about what happened. And why wait until now? It happened a while ago. If he’d wanted to spread stuff around, he would have done it back then. Mia’s doing this as retaliation for you talking about her parents. I don’t know how she managed it, but she’s the one who got them to say those things.”

In my gut, I realized Lissa was right. Jesse and Ralf were the tools; Mia had been the mastermind.

Will forced his body to relax, looking Lissa in the eyes, “Nothing to be done now,” he sighed.

Will—”  “Forget it, Liss. It’s done, okay?”  She studied him quietly for a few seconds. “I haven’t seen you cry in a long time.” “I wasn’t crying.” Will said unconvincingly, rubbing his nose.

A feeling of heartache and sympathy beat through to me from the bond.

“She can’t do this to you,” she argued.

I laughed bitterly, half surprised at my own hopelessness.

“She already did. She said she’d get back at me, that I wouldn’t be able to protect you. She did it. When I go back to classes…”

A sickening feeling settled in my stomach. I thought about the friends and respect I’d managed to eke out, despite our low profile. That would be gone. You couldn’t come back from something like this. Not among the Moroi. Once a blood whore, always a blood whore. What made it worse was that some dark, secret part of me did like being bitten. It may take a while to spread past the school walls, but this will follow me past graduation, a label that will follow me like a shadow.

Bruce made a pathetic sound at Wills thoughts, and Jason hissed through his teeth.

“You shouldn’t have to keep protecting me,” she said. He laughed weakly. “That’s my job. I’m going to be your guardian.”

“I know, but I meant like this. You shouldn’t suffer because of me. You shouldn’t always have to look after me. And yet you always do. You got me out of here. You took care of everything when we were on our own. Even since coming back…you’ve always been the one who does all the work. Every time I break down—like last night—you’re always there. Me, I’m weak. I’m not like you.”  he shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. It’s what I do. I don’t mind.”

"You're both children- you-" knowing they can't hear him Dick made a frustrated noise and turned to Bruce "they were 14! He was working, had no money, they're not even 18 yet." Damian gritted his teeth, but no one could say anything.

Lissa broke the tense silence, “Yeah, but look what happened. I’m the one she really has a grudge against—even though I still don’t know why." she looked away , but forced her eyes to Wills, "Whatever. It’s going to stop. I’m going to protect you from now on.”

"Her auras rimmed in darkness," Duke tilted his head at the scene.

There was a determination in her expression, a wonderful confidence radiating off of her that reminded me of the Lissa I’d known before the accident. At the same time, I could feel something else in her—something darker, a sense of deeply buried anger. I’d seen this side of her before too, and I didn’t like it.

"what did he mean saw it before, is he talking about the self harm? "Tim muttered to himself.

I didn’t want her tapping into it. I just wanted her to be safe.

"No, he said anger, it may not have happened these past few weeks, though we have seen her start to get angry- but Wills been able to stop it."

“Lissa, you can’t protect me.”  “I can,” she said fiercely. “There’s one thing Mia wants more than to destroy you and me. She wants to be accepted. She wants to hang out with the royals and feel like she’s one of them. I can take that away from her.” She smiled. “I can turn them against her.”  “How?”  “By telling them.” Her eyes flashed. 

My mind was moving too slowly tonight. It took me a while to catch on. “Liss—no. You can’t use compulsion. Not around here.” 

" but that's useful, i understand the social taboo but compulsion would be a useful tool wouldn't it?" Damian asked.

“I might as well get some use out of these stupid powers.”

The more she uses it, the worse it’ll get. Stop her. Stop her before they notice, before they notice and take her away too. Get her out of here.

"it's that same voice!“ Tim rushed out, "what do they mean 'take her away?"

Will started gently,"Liss, if you get caught—” Dimitri stuck his head out, making Dick hiss, "no."

His voice cut through their conversation, “You’ve got to get back inside, Will, before someone finds you.”  He shot a panicked look at Lissa, but she was already retreating. “ I’ll take care of everything this time, Will. Everything.”

Chapter Text

As Will got whisked away the scene swirled in a collage of colours that drained into the crystal suddenly, leaving the vigilantes staring at the other side of the room and only Will's voice ringing out clear in the empty room.

The aftermath of Jesse's and Ralf’s lies was about as horrible as I’d expected. The only way I survived – especially the first few days- was by putting blinders on, by ignoring everyone and everything. It kept me sane—barely—but I hated it. I felt like crying all the time. I lost my appetite and didn’t sleep well.

The mist than cautiously escaped the crystal to Will alone in the kitchens, adults bustling in the background but giving him a wide berth. A plate with a salad and pizza was in front of him but he was more pushing the food around than eating it.

Bruce's heart ached.....he looked weary.

Will was brought out of his head at something out of sight. Seconds later the vigilantes heard footsteps, and then Meredith walked through. She glanced at him, slowing her march to walk round the table,

"Will."

"Meredith."

She started opening a fridge, glancing at for a couple of seconds before moving onto the next one.

"The right middle cupboard behind the rice cakes is the sweets, liquorice should be the first thing you see."

Meredith nodded though Will wasn't looking at her, moving seamlessly to the cupboard, "You've been here for how long and you know that already?"
"Second priority after looking to see if there's any ways out."

"Couldn't find any?" Meredith said sarcastically cocking her head, but she kept glancing over at him.

Will paused, "Liss didn't want to go, I also know where the cooking wine is if any of us get that desperate."

Meredith huffed a laugh through her nose, stopping mid word when a kitchen staff enters chucking the liquorice at Will to hide. They both watched the adult as they left through the other door before looking at each other.

"This'll pass," she said, snatching the sweets back, biting into one and standing back up. Before disappearing, she patted him on the back harshly.

She's right, it sucks but I'll get used to this normal. And, no matter how bad it got for me, I didn’t worry about myself as much as I did Lissa.

"He's taking this guardian thing too far," Damian tutted.

She stood by her promise to change things.

The mist snapped to the the next meal- dinner. Will was sitting alone, picking at his plate.

It was slow at first.

The mist then switched to behind Will, allowing the vigilantes to see what he saw. A royal or two had came up to her at lunch to say hello. She turned on a brilliant smile, laughing and talking to them like they were all old friends.

The mist then snapped to another day- looking at the food selection, lunch- where another group of students came up to Lissa and sat with her, smiling and getting along ,with them hanging on Lissa's every word.

At first, I didn’t understand how she was pulling it off. She’d told me she would use compulsion to win the other royals over and turn them against Mia. But I didn’t see it happening. It was possible, of course, that she was winning people over without compulsion. After all, she was funny, smart, and nice. Anyone would like her. Something told me she wasn’t winning friends the old-fashioned way, and I finally figured it out.

The mist then jumped to Will in a hallway who turned the corner to see Lissa talking to someone alone but when she notices him she steps back and both Moroi walk away.

She was using compulsion when I wasn’t around.

"Clever," Tim nodded. Steph leaned over to hit him.

"Wrong but still clever, she know he'd try to stop it, can you stop compulsion?"

I only saw her for a small part of the day, and since she knew I didn’t approve, she only worked her power when I was away.

Several more moments flash in the mist, Lissa flashing a smile and Will watching from the shadows.

After a few days of this secret compulsion, I knew what I needed to do: I had to get back in her head again. By choice. I’d done it before; I could do it again.

The mist finally settled into a single scene with Will sitting in the back of the classroom alone. His fist was clenched tightly over his pen, nearly breaking it.

At least, that’s what I told myself, sitting and spacing out in Stan’s class one day. But it wasn’t as easy as I’d thought it would be, partly because I felt too keyed up to relax and open myself to her thoughts. I also had trouble because I picked a time when she felt relatively calm. She came through the “loudest” when her emotions were running strong. Still, I tried to do what I’d done before, back when I’d spied on her and Christian. The meditation thing.

The vigilantes watched as he slowed his breathing, closed his eyes and relaxed his hand. "Is this going to work?" Duke asked. " If he can focus, it'll likely work, the bond is always present so it makes sense he can access it if he learns how to control it," Bruce answers.

Mental focus like that still wasn’t easy for me, usually I'm physically working at the same time. Sitting still and focusing isn't usual, but at long last I managed the transition, slipping into her head and experiencing the world as hers.

Will's eye became glassy and distant, and as the vigilantes blinked the mist switched to a first person view, where they were leaning across a wall looking t Camille Conta.

She stood in her American lit class, during project-work time, but, like most of the students, she wasn’t working.

She and Camille Conta were talking in hushed voices. “It’s gross,” said Camille firmly, a frown crossing her face. “If you guys were doing it, I’m not surprised he got addicted and did it with Jesse.”

“He didn’t do it with Jesse,” insisted Lissa. “And it’s not like we had sex. We just didn’t have any feeders, that’s all.”

She focused on her, a smile spreading so wide on her face I can feel it hurt.

“It’s no big deal. Everyone’s overreacting.” Camille looked like she doubted this, and then, the more she stared at Lissa, the more unfocused her eyes became. A blank look fell over her. “Right?” asked Lissa, voice like silk. “It’s not a big deal.”

"That's freaky," Dick spoke, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen upon them.

The frown returned. Camille tried to shake the compulsion. That fact that it’d even gotten this far was incredible. As Christian had observed, using it on Moroi was unheard of. Camille, although strong-willed, lost the battle.

"Her ability seems to be limitless," Bruce added, earning a glared from Jason, "Dont think about it, she's a teenager trying to help her friend- you son- even if it ain't perfect they've been through shit. Good on her for using the resources available."

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “It’s really not that big a deal.”

“And Jesse’s lying.”

She nodded. “Definitely lying.”

A mental strain burned inside of Lissa as she held onto the compulsion. It took a lot of effort, and she wasn’t finished.

“What are you guys doing tonight?” “Carly and I are going to study for Matheson’s test in her room.” “Invite me.” Camille thought about it. “Hey, you want to study with us?” “Sure,” said Lissa, smiling at her. Camille smiled back.

Lissa dropped the compulsion, and a wave of dizziness swept over her. She felt weak.

Camille glanced around, momentarily surprised, then shook off the weirdness. “See you after dinner then.” “See you,” murmured Lissa, watching her walk away.

When Camille was gone, Lissa reached up to tie her hair up in a ponytail. Her fingers couldn’t quite get all the hair through, and suddenly, another pair of hands caught hold and helped her. She spun around and found herself staring into Christian’s ice-blue eyes.

She jerked away from him. “Don’t do that!” she exclaimed. He gave her a lazy, slightly twisted smile and brushed a few pieces of unruly black hair out of his face. “Are you asking me or ordering me?” “Shut up.”

She glanced around, both to avoid his eyes and make sure no one saw them together.

“What’s the matter? Worried about what your slaves will think if they see you talking to me?” “They’re my friends,” she retorted. “Oh. Right. Of course they are. I mean, from what I saw, Camille would probably do anything for you, right? Friends till the end.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

In spite of her anger, she couldn’t help but notice how the silvery gray of his shirt set off his black hair and blue eyes.

“At least she isn’t like you. She doesn’t pretend to be my friend one day and then ignore me for no reason.”

An uncertain look flickered across Christian's features.

Bruce grimaced slightly. "That's all you, choices fucking up other people, without just talking,"

"Ah, however, "Dick added, pointing to Jason, "Will's seventeen, he's fifty."

"I thought he was in his 80's," Steph added smiling widely at Bruce. Tim started to study Bruce's face and was going to say something when Will's thoughts started silencing them.

Tension and anger had built up between them in the last week, ever since I’d yelled at Christian after the royal reception. Believing what I’d told him, Christian had stopped talking to her and had treated her rudely every time she’d tried to start a conversation. Now, hurt and confused, she’d given up attempts at being nice. The situation just kept getting worse and worse.
Looking out through Lissa’s eyes, I could see that he still cared about her and still wanted her. His pride had been hurt, however, and he wasn’t about to show weakness.

"Yeah?” he said in a low, cruel voice. “I thought that was the way all royals were supposed to act. You certainly seem to be doing a good job with it. Or maybe you’re just using compulsion on me to make me think you’re a two-faced bitch. Maybe you really aren’t. But I doubt it.”

Lissa flushed at the word compulsion—and cast another worried look around— but decided not to give him the satisfaction of arguing anymore. She simply gave him one last glare before storming off to join a group of royals huddled over an assignment.

"Does she care more about being -rightly- accused of compulsion than being called a bitch?" Steph asks incredulously, bringing her leg that was on the side of the couch to sit up and lean forward.

Returning to myself, I stared blankly around the classroom, processing what I’d seen. Some tiny, tiny part of me was starting to feel sorry for Christian. It was only a tiny part, though, and very easy to ignore. There are more important things to worry about.

The sun is still up in the sky, having only started its descent in the next scene, with Will is walking back to the old gym. Though no one is out this 'early' he is still keeping a speedy pace and keeping to the side.

These practices were my favorite part of the day now, partly because of my stupid crush on him and partly because I didn’t have to be around the others.

When he got in, neither spoke to one another, going through some stretches before starting their run.

He was quiet and almost gentle in his instructions, probably worried about causing some sort of breakdown. He knew about the rumors somehow, but he never mentioned them.

After they finished, Dimitri led him through an offensive exercise where Will was to use any makeshift weapons he could find to attack him. He was clear in his instructions, but was more open, not seeming to have closed himself off as much as previous times they've witnessed him.

"He looks his age- you know," Dick said softly. Bruce jolts slightly, and Steph noticing, added, "21- not twenty", causing Bruce to grimace.

To my surprise, I managed to land a few blows on him, although they seemed to do me more damage than him. The impacts always made me stagger back, but he never budged. It still didn’t stop me from attacking and attacking, fighting with an almost blind rage.

They could hear how hard he was hitting him, though Will was taking most of the impact.

He kept hitting and Dimitri was hitting back.

I didn’t know who I really fought in those moments: Mia or Jesse or Ralf. Maybe all of them.

Dimitri finally called a break, and the vigilantes took a sigh of relief. They carried the equipment they’d used on the field and returned everything to the supply room in silence. While putting it away, Dimitri glanced at Will and did a double take.

"What?" The vigilantes looked at each other.

“Your hands.” Dimitri swore in Russian. None of the vigilantes could hear what he said.

"His hands aren't wrapped," Bruce whispered, drawing out hisses from the rest of the vigilantes as they remembered the last time they has to fight without protecting their hands.

I could recognize it by now, but he refused to teach me what any of it meant.

"Priorities," Duke weakly chuckled, though Bruce added teaching Russian to his list.

“Where are your gloves?” He asked, staring intently as Will's hands.

I looked down at my hands. They’d suffered for weeks, and today had only made them worse. The cold had turned the skin raw and chapped, and some parts were actually bleeding a little. My blisters swelled.

“Don’t have any. Never needed them in England.”

Or could afford them.

Dimitri swore again and beckoned Will to a chair while he retrieved a first-aid kit. Wiping away the blood with a wet cloth, he told Will gruffly, “We’ll get you some.”

I looked down at my destroyed hands as he worked. I knew basic first aid, from my time away, but it was nice, being taken care of.

"Kid," Jason shook his head.

Will helped pass disinfectant wipes over to Dimitri, which he took with only a seconds pause. He barely flinched as the disinfectant cleaned the wounds. He took a deep breath before he, "Can I ask you something. You don't wear a binder how'd you?"

"Poker with this doctor, he was already in debt. Went to win thousands from him, this," he gestures to his clothed chest, "Was payment."
He paused his movements to look at him, and Will fixes him a look, "Lissa was safe, we stocked up on food and stayed in a church whilst i recovered."

He kept staring at him, "I know you wouldn't put her in risk, how'd you meet him?."

"I was a 16 year old kid from Gotham, I'd do odd jobs under the table, cleaning near her school. Manged to get a few jobs for several people living or working near lissa's school, taking out the rubbish, cleaning, some older ladies and gents just wanted someone to talk to, and I'm cheap, you know. I'd started working in a different area near her college once she'd started going there, and I got invited to a poker game once i told the guy hosting it about a guest's bluff."

"You worked instead of focusing on school?"
"I did both, just online school, finished college early."
"We found no evidence of you signing up to university-"
Will cuts him off "too expensive, and the- the one I'd want to go to would need me to be in accommodation, wouldn't work with Lissa."
"But you wanted to go."
Will paused, "I did, and I'd likely have gone if we were still out there, most likely online, but I'll still be going to uni now it's just-"
"Different." They finished at the same time.

"Why would it be different now? He can still do that." Bruce asked earnestly, he'd already set up a fund for him, and one for Lissa and his other friends, he'd personally fund university or college if he wanted it.

It would be different, if- and i hate that it's and if- I'm Lissa's guardian and a similar age I'll go to the same classes as her to protect her, meaning I'll get the same degree as her. Not that i need a degree to be a guardian.

"That's.... unfair," Damian didn't understand.

"Do you remember the names of those that died that day?" Will asked, abruptly changing the subject with such speed the vigilantes had whiplash.

I didn't need to tell him what day.

"The tragedy claimed the lives of Eric, Rhea and Andre Dragomir, with Vasilisa Dragomir the last surviving member of the Dragomir line." He recited.

"And?"

Those warm brown eyes surveyed me, and something tightened in my chest. Damn it. I had to stop feeling this way around him.

"And Wilhelm Hathaway."

"And?"

He looked at me, and though his face stayed mostly stoic I could see his confusion.

"The Dragomir Guardians. They died. Do you know their names?"

Will was hesitant, purposefully looking anywhere but him.

Silence fell over the two and the vigilantes.

He didn't answer, and I wasn't angry, because I understood. And he wasn't sorry, because he understood too. We knew what this job was, what it meant. Doing it for glory would get them killed.

I didn't ask to make him upset, or because i was angry, but just because I needed to see if anyone else understood or if i was alone in this feeling.

Bruce's face was heartbreaking, and few could look at the mist.

"It feel's like we're intruding." Cass gently muttered, Steph nodding next to her.

I'll be forgotten, or at least the best- the other parts of me that aren't just my loyalty and my 'promiscu-."

He cut Will off “It won’t happen to you. You’re too…”

He groped for the right word, and I mentally substituted all sorts of possibilities. Unforgettable. Mesmerising.

A disbelieving laugh escaped Bruce.

Giving up, Dimitri simply said, “It won’t happen to you.” and turned his attention back to Will's hands.

“It's happened to- my- mom" Will forced out the last word. " All I know about her is how devoted to her job she is, to her duty. I guess she has to be more than that, But not the way she used to be.” Bitterly, I added, “Haven’t seen her in recent memory. She could be completely different for all I know. Or maybe she's always been like this, born for her place perfectly.”

“You don’t like your mother,” he observed.

Mother, which one?

“You noticed that, huh?”

“You barely know her.” “That’s the point. She abandoned me. She left me to be raised by the Academy.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, with Belikov cleaning his wounds.

"Shitty dice roll kiddo in the parent department," Jason sympathised, relaxing back into his seat.

When he finished cleaning my open wounds, he found a jar of salve and began rubbing it into the rough parts of my skin. I sort of got lost in the feel of his hands massaging mine.

Weak laughs erupted from Steph and Dick.

“You say that…but what else should she have done? I know you want to be a guardian. I know how much it means to you. Do you think she feels any differently? Do you think she should have quit to raise you when you’d spend most of your life here anyway?”

"No-" Will said, though he didn't say anything else.

“I’m just saying maybe you shouldn’t be so hard on her. She’s a very respected dhampir. She’s set you on the path to be the same.”

No but i know i wasn't wanted and even if i was i wouldn't- that's not what i meant. I get why they couldn't raise me but-

"That's not what i meant, I was the first ward here. I- she could have visited more, I know guardians get time off," Will pauses trying to find the right words, "Having the guardian Hathaway as my parent is already a heavy shadow I live in, but having the guardian Hathaway want nothing to do with me? Most don't even know i exist. I think she has family in Scotland you know? I could have been raised in a commune.” He couldn't stop the slightly disbelieving sound as he said it.

Dimitri looked up. “I was raised in a dhampir commune. They aren’t as bad as you think.” “Oh.”

I suddenly felt stupid.

“I didn’t mean—” “It’s all right.” He focused his attention back onto his hands.

“So, did you, like, have family there? Grow up with them?” He nodded. “My mother and two sisters. I didn’t see them much after I went to school, but we still keep in touch. Mostly, the communities are about family. There’s a lot of love there, no matter what stories you’ve heard.”

My bitterness returned, and I glanced down to hide my glare. Dimitri had had a happier family life with his disgraced mother and relatives than I’d had with my “respected” mother.

He most certainly knew his mother better than I knew mine.

Yeah, but…isn’t it weird? Aren’t there a lot of Moroi men visiting to, you know?…”

His hands rubbed circles into mine.

“Sometimes.”

There was something dangerous in his tone, something that told me this was an unwelcome topic.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something bad…” “Actually…you probably wouldn’t think it’s bad,” he said after almost a minute had passed. A tight smile formed on his lips. “You don’t know your father, do you?” I shook my head. “No. All I know is he must have had wicked cool hair, and has to be taller than my mother, otherwise I'd have been doomed.”

And that he would be even more disgraceful than anyone in the communes.

"Hear that, there's your best attributes, your hair and height, B" Dick laughed.

"They don't have the same hair," Damian questioned, studying Will as if he'd change hair colour.

Dimitri glanced up, and his eyes swept Will. “Yes. He must have.”

Damian turned to glare at Belikov, whilst Dick laughed.

Returning to Will's hands, he said carefully, “I knew mine.” Will froze. “Really? Most Moroi guys don’t stay—I mean, some do, but you know, usually they just—” “Well, he liked my mother.” He didn’t say “liked” in a nice way. “And he visited her a lot. He’s my sisters‟ father too. But when he came…well, he didn’t treat my mother very well. He did some horrible things.” “Like…” I hesitated.

This was Dimitri’s mother we were talking about. I didn’t know how far I could go.

"Like beating-her-up kinds of things,” he replied flatly.

He’d finished the bandages but was still holding my hands. I don’t even know if he noticed. I certainly did. His were warm and large, with long and graceful fingers. Fingers that might have played the piano in another life.

“Oh God,” I said.

"Priorities," Duke laughed.

How horrible. I tightened my hands in his. He squeezed back.

“That’s horrible. And she…she just let it happen?” “She did.” The corner of his mouth turned up into a sly, sad smile. “But I didn’t."

“Tell me, tell me you beat the crap out of him.” His smile grew. “I did.”

“Wow.”

I hadn’t thought Dimitri could be any cooler, but I was wrong.

“You beat up your dad. I mean, that’s really horrible…what happened. But, wow. You really are a god.” He blinked. “What?”

Jason barked out a laugh.

“Uh, nothing.” Hastily, Will tried to change the subject. “How old were you?” Belikov still seemed to be puzzling out the god comment. “Thirteen.”

Whoa. Mason may have actually been right.

“You beat up your dad when you were thirteen?” “It wasn’t that hard. I was stronger than he was, almost as tall. I couldn’t let him keep doing that. He had to learn that being royal and Moroi doesn’t mean you can do anything you want to other people—even blood whores.”

I stared. I couldn’t believe he’d just said that about his mother.

“I’m sorry.” “It’s all right.” Pieces clicked into place for Will. “That’s why you got so upset about Jesse, isn’t it? He was another royal, trying to take advantage of a dhampir.” Dimitri averted his eyes. “I got upset over that for a lot of reasons. After all, you were breaking the rules, and…”

He didn’t finish, but he looked back into my eyes in a way that made warmth build between us.

Thinking about Jesse soon darkened my mood, unfortunately.

Bruce seemed to have blue screened.

Will looked down.

“I know you heard what people are saying, that I—” “I know it’s not true,” he interrupted.

His immediate, certain answer surprised me, and I stupidly found myself questioning it.

“Yeah, but how do you—” “Because I know you,” he replied firmly. “I know your character. I know you’re going to be a great guardian.”

"Damn right," Dick said.

His confidence made that warm feeling return.

“I’m glad someone does. Everyone else thinks I’m totally irresponsible.” “With the way you worry more about Lissa than yourself…” He shook his head. “No. You understand your responsibilities better than guardians twice your age. You’ll do what you have to do to succeed.”

Will paused before added, “I don’t know if I can do everything I have to do.”

He did that cool one-eyebrow thing.

“I don’t want to stop wearing jewellery,” Will explained. Dimitri looked puzzled. “You don’t have to stop wearing jewellry. It’s not required.” “All the other guardian's do. Most don't wear necklaces for safety reasons, which i get, but most don't even wear rings and bracelets. And necklaces also can hide their tattoos.” Unexpectedly, he released Will's hands to grab his wrists.

I froze, and for a moment, there was nothing going on in the world except him touching my wrists.

"He's not the worst option for a suitor," Damian mused, making everyone turn to look at him. "It's better than any of your ideas of romance," Damian added to his brothers, nodding at Cass and Steph, "they have the right idea." Sounds of outrage and offense were quickly silenced at they finsihed watching the rest of the scene.

He let my wrists go, looking a little surprised—and embarrassed—at what he’d done. He moved toward the doorway, a small smile playing over his lips. “Wear them on your time off.”

Chapter Text

The sudden ending of last weeks visions amounted to the flock of Bats converging early on the next Sunday, with Bruce being the last to enter- Batman being the first to descend on the night and the last to be seen before sunrise.

Heads swivelled to stare at him, waiting impatiently for him to awaken the stand, which had been broken out of its safe and place gently on a pillow, with a bunched up blanket surrounding it and a small plate with a single cookie.

"It's an alter, the cookies a sacrifice," Dick added unhelpfully.

"There was an uneven number of cookies," Duke helpfully mumbled still half asleep, the only one not to be nocturnal.

Bruce hummed but asked the crystal to start, glancing at the cookie.

I continued spying on Lissa over the next couple of days, feeling mildly guilty each time.

Dick snorted, "that's how its begins, B used to feel guilty spying on friends."
"Like decades ago," Steph deadpanned.

She’d always hated it when I did by accident, and now I did it on purpose.

They watched as he was in class, looking like he was listening and taking notes, but he was mentally across the campus, looking through Lissa's eyes.

She would catch one person alone, they would become complacent, she would have a conversation, and then move on to the next person.

"That's terrifying, she's able to win everyone over, no matter how much they seem to fight it at the beginning," Dick whistled.

She couldn’t do group compulsion, but catching one person alone was just as effective, if slower. And really, a lot didn’t need to be compelled to start hanging out with her again. Many weren’t as shallow as they seemed; they remembered Lissa and liked her for who she was.

The mist then showed a collection of visions; lunch time, where people flocked to her, with her sitting in the middle of a full table; to class, where she was talking to everyone and finally to the hallways where people would wave and say hi every time she passed.

Bruce watched the faces of those surrounding Lissa, "People are going to notice."

"Compulsion isn't allowed, and he said that compulsion doesn't normally work on Moroi, she's powerful," Jason gestured to her.

"And she's the last of a royal line, its to be expected that she socialises, they'll probably think she's doing her duty, putting in the work," Tim nodded.

In the background Steph mocked holding a champagne glass and mock toasting to Jason, who followed her lead and toasted back before mock fancy laughing.

During this rise to fame, she advocated for me and rallied against Mia and Jesse.

The mist than switched back to Will, who instead of the stares and whispers from the Moroi, was mostly ignored, though a few nodded when he passed. He was still isolating himself from others, sitting alone in lessons.

Finally, he was walking out of the old gym and jogging back to his dorm, the sun just setting into the horizon and dipping from the sky as he kicked the door closed.

Its been nearly a week of spying, and I'd gotten good at multitasking, not fully sinking into her head.

He walked out of the shower, wrestling with his shirt, when the mist transferred to Lissa, who was getting ready.

She’d spent the last twenty minutes blow-drying and straightening her hair, something she hadn’t done in a while.

Natalie, was sitting on the bed in their room, watching the process with curiosity. When Lissa moved on to makeup, Natalie finally spoke. “Hey, we’re going to watch a movie in Erin’s room after school. You going to come?”

I’d always made jokes about Natalie being boring, but her friend Erin had the personality of dry wall.

“Can’t. I’m going to help Camille bleach Carly’s hair.”

“You sure spend a lot of time with them now.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I thought you didn’t like them anymore.”

“I changed my mind.”

“They sure seem to like you a lot now. I mean, not that anyone wouldn’t like you, but once you came back and didn’t talk to them, they seemed okay ignoring you too. I heard them talking about you a lot. I guess that’s not surprising, because they’re Mia’s friends too, but isn’t it weird how much they like you now? Like, I hear them always waiting to see what you want to do before they make plans and stuff. And a bunch of them are defending Will now, which is really crazy. Not that I believe any of that stuff about him, but I never would have thought it was possible—”

"Uh Oh," Dick whispered, "that's not good."

Underneath Natalie’s rambling was the seed of suspicion, and Lissa picked up on it. Natalie probably never would have dreamed of compulsion, but Lissa couldn’t risk innocent questions turning into something more.

“You know what?” she interrupted. “Maybe I will swing by Erin’s after all. I bet Carly’s hair won’t take that long.” Natalie’s train of thought was derailed. “Really? Oh wow, that would be great. She was telling me how sad she was that you’re not around as much anymore, and I told her…”

He must have stopped the bond as the mist returns to him, in his shirt and boxers. He stops in front of the mirror with his trousers in his hands to look at the scar. It was the first time they'd seen it clearly. It peaked from under his underwear on his thigh, clear teeth marks digging into his leg.

The vigilantes hissed in sympathy, Jason kissing his teeth.

I'd gotten used to the scar. Honestly, i find it pretty badass. It was before we moved to England (though we moved about a month later, mostly due to my fear of them finding us again).

It had only been a few weeks and I thought it'd be a while before they stopped the search. The risk of travelling outweighed the risk of being caught.

"It was lucky they weren't challenged, what was their plan?" Tim wondered.

Steph looked over to him, "They used the Gotham loophole, remember?"
"But that was only once they got there, what was the plan before that?"
"Probably compulsion, they'd only need to use it a little to fudge their way through," Dick piped up, staring intently at Tim, "tell me your computer password."
Tim just chucked a pillow at him.
"Or maybe they were just going to travel as stowaways," Duke added.
Will had put on trousers at this point and was combing his fingers through his hair.

It luckily didn't break or hit bone, most of the damage done to the fleshy parts of my inner and outer thigh-

Psi hounds have huge mouths apparently, who knew?

Tim had pulled up fictional drawings of Psi hounds and was trying to pinpoint what Will was talking about, "he said mutant wolves, so they aren't like the spirit ones Constantine knows about, especially if Moroi can command them?"

"Do you think he'll go into more detail?" Dick wondered, before turning to Bruce unnaturally, "if not, you should ask."

I'd managed to move so it didn't hit my chest, but it still hurt like a bitch and took a few weeks before I could move freely, could run properly.

The moment it was healed enough, we went straight to the train station.

Bruce felt a swarm of emotions at how much he'd gone through alone, if he knew about him- even if they didn't have contact, they could have turned to him. It was a dangerous thought and he fought to focus on what he can do now. His eyes caught on the stand, where a good chunk of sand was sitting in the bottom of the timer. There was so much sand he could see it over the blanket, but there was still lots of sand in the top, slowly falling. The more he stared, the slower it seemed to move, until he wrenched his eyes away from it to Will, who was looking over some work on his desk.

I felt helpless back then, but getting through it helped me gain a steady determination throughout the rest of the time on the run. I got us through it then, so i could get us through anything else.

He traced his fingers over his thigh absently, before they starting tapping out a random rhythm. He flipped over a page filled with his handwriting, skimming over the next page.

It's not a usual scar guardians get, but then i didn't think I'd be an official guardian..... didn't think we'd ever come back.

I remember finding Lissa after i had lied to both Victor Dashkov and Belikov and she agreed to lie if anyone asked- not that we thought anyone would. I didn't want the heat, or the attention- fat lot of luck that was.

Jason scoffed, "yeah, tough luck."

That train of thought led back to the animals, the threat, my reputation and now Lissa's change in behaviour, and I quickly pushed it away. I had to leave now if i wanted to get breakfast before lessons.

The door slammed shut, leaving them watching his empty dorm room, before the mist disappeared back into the crystal, and the vigilantes immediately turned to Bruce, who cleared his throat to ask, "Show me what happened with Will and the Psi-Hounds."

The mist rose out of the crystal and bloomed into a church. Lissa was praying, and Will was sorting through a backpack. He'd pulled everything out- three water bottles, several packets of dry cereal, snack bars and crisps. He also had a first aid kit, that he looked through, and seemingly satisfied, he put it back in.

His hair was bluntly cut close to the scalp but choppy. He ran his hands through his hair, doing a final count of his items, before packing it back in.

"Love the hairstyle," Tim quipped, though Dick scoffed at looked at him. It led to a small scuffle, Tim going for the cheap shot of Dicks hair and him yelping.

As shitty as my hair was, me and Lissa cutting it whilst shoved into the bus stop bathroom was freeing.

Lissa stood up, walking out of the pews to the back where Will was, "how are you feeling Will?"

We'd done a feeding last night. The feeling was good but odd. Getting blood was impossible, i know little outside of St Vladmir's campus and even if i could find a commune where she could get blood it'll draw attention. The Dragomir name was famous and after the accident, the odds no one will recognise her is low.

"I'm good, we should pick up some electrolyte sugar drinks i've still got some money left over. And a couple of jackets." He shrugged his backpack over his shoulder and they left.

"I have a feeling he wouldn't tell her if he was bleeding out, just deadpan, 'I'm good' whilst passing out on the floor," Jason laughed, as Dick acted it out.

"That sounds hypocritical, coming from all of you," Alfred quipped, passing the door.

Suddenly Lissa stopped, and Will's head whipped around, looking for a threat. "Your birthday! You didn't get anything."

It was a while ago, before we left, and now she wants to bring it up? Lissa's kindness is something I appreciate and love about her, but now?

The vigilantes smiled at their bond.

"Liss," Will started, but Lissa waved his worries away, "I've still my money, the cash i took before we left, what do you want? Anything," she then looked at Will nervously, "its a gift for everything, your birthday," She looked at Will's neck, "taking care of m-"

"It's my duty, and you're my friend, i choose to do this to keep you safe, Liss."
"You're getting something," she grabbed him and pulled him into a large shopping centre down the street.

As they walked into the door, a howl could be heard, something that didn't sound completely doglike, though they didn't seem to notice.

The vigilantes did.

"That's not good," Duke whispered.

I found a jacket, this dark brown, almost black, leather jacket that was slightly baggy but looked awesome. I loved the style of it.

Will was looking at the price tag when Lissa snatched it from him and stretched it out in front of her to study it, "is this what you want? It suits you."

He was hesitant, "i like it, but its expen-"

"Shh, is there anything you would want to change about it, is it exactly what you want, you aren't rushing this, we'll go elsewhere if somethings not just right with it. It's your gift."

He gave Lissa a small smile, looking at her warmly, "this is what i want, and it can be my jacket as well, several birds and all that."

As Lissa walked ahead of him, keeping the jacket out of his reach, he kept scanning the area, staying one step behind her.

.....The only bad thing about it is that its fake leather, not real leather, but that would cost a leg. Hendrick had a leather jacket that he maintained and I can still smell the wax stuff he'd use on it. One time he used some sandalwood and vanilla stuff and it was my favourite. 'A real leather jacket could last you generations,' he would say. It wasn't official- him mentoring me, i was too young to be mentored really, but he made it clear he would when i was older.

Will's eyes became glassy for a second, before he blinked it away and caught up to Lissa who'd already gotten in line for the queue.

"Thank you." She smiled but waved him off, shoving his shoulder.

Bruce frowned at Will's grief, but his heart warmed at his and Lissa's bond.

As they left the shopping centre, Will grabbed Lissa and pulled her to the bus stop, just as a bus was turning the corner "that's the one."

I wanted to move us further away from the school, and I noticed a bar several Moroi's and Guardians had entered a few days ago in this area. We need to disappear further into the human world.

The mist than moved to them getting off the bus in the middle of nowhere. It was dark, the sun mostly set, though neither of them seemed too struggle seeing.

Will searched a map, before pointing in one direction. They started walking following a dirt path that went through a field, avoiding the thistles. They were chatting about nothing when they heard a howl.

Lissa stopped, and when she turned to look to her left Will reacted and pulled her behind him. He didn't seem to know what she heard, but then seconds later reacted, "Run!"

It took another few seconds before the vigilantes heard the sound of thuds- paws hitting the ground hard. They couldn't see anything yet, but Will was still pulling Lissa and telling her to keep moving.

He was faster, but slowed himself to keep Lissa in front of him. When Lissa looked back he shook his head and told her "don't look back, keep moving."

We need to get far away from here.

Soon a house came into view, and Will pointed to a walkway next to it. They erupted into the street but kept moving.

There.

It was a car with the lights still on, and Will pulled Lissa over to it. He yanked open the door and Lissa climbed in the other side. Will pulled the car from the side of the road and as the lights illuminated the road, the vigilantes could see the silhouettes of several large wolf like creatures emerge from the same walkway the two had, but it was too dark to see clearly.

Will sped past them, reading signs looking for something. He was speeding but used turn signals, though the streets were basically deserted.

For someone who hadn't learnt to drive yet, I'm not doing the worst.

The mist then switched to inside the car, with Will pulling over to the side of a deserted road.

We kept driving for several hours until i needed a break; driving like this was going to kill one or both of us.

They pulled the car to the side of the road, and Will woke up Lissa and gave her some food. Lissa got out to stretch and Will followed her. As they were stretching out, Wills shoulders poppings, they heard a snarl. Will pulled Lissa down and a Psi-Hound leapt over them. It recovered quickly, and Will pushed Lissa to the car and told her to start it. Will grabbed a rock and threw it at the hound before running over to the car.

The hound barely reacted, and as Will got to the car and was about to throw open the door, the hound pawed his leg and pulled him to the ground. He kicked it and it then snapped at his chest, but he pulled himself up and instead it latched onto his thigh.

A pained cry rang out, but he used his other leg to kick him in the eye and to pry the jaws off him. He shoved it away finally and pulled himself into the car, Lissa driving off in seconds.

"That was bad," Steph face scrunched up, "Ouch."

Ow. That hurts bad, and looks really bad. I can still move my leg, and feeling around it doesn't seem to have dug in too far.

Lissa looked over to him but he told her to keep her eyes on the road and not stop driving until they run out of fuel.

I liked these trousers.

A slightly mad laugh fell out of Jason's lips, "priorities."

The mist showed a couple scenes of Will and Lissa holding up in a Church, Lissa befriending the owners and volunteering with their food drives and sermons in return for free food. There was also a scene where she was searching through donations and found a nice bag that she was allowed to take.

Will eventually healed enough to take trips outside to the shops, and soon they were packing and leaving. The scene ended with them entering the train station, leading the vigilantes to recall the scenes they watched weeks ago.

The mist shut itself back into the crystal, the swirls inside settling down quickly as if going asleep.

The vigilantes stayed in the room to discuss anything they may have missed that others picked up on. Damian went to ask his father a question, when he noticed he wasn't in his seat. He looked around the room and found he was nowhere to be seen, and a second scan of the room found the stand and crystal was missing.

As well as the cookie.

Bruce was back in the Batcave, opening the case. Chewing on the cookie he looked at the blanket his children had wrapped the stand in, and added it to the case, before carefully putting the stand in.

He hesitated before grabbing out the phone and typing out a single message, "Psi Hounds were used in an attempt to locate them, what did you know?"

But he couldn't send them. Will had lied for a reason, and what would informing Petrov of this lead to? He deleted it, and before losing his nerve, locked everything back into the case.

There's nothing to say yet.

The timer wasn't even nearly finished.

But was the timer when i would have permission? Is it just when he turns 18? Is it when we actually meet regardless of planning?

He pulled himself away and left the Batcave, failing to leave his thoughts behind in the dark of the cave.

Chapter Text

"Show me Will Hathaway."

Bruce wasted no time the next week, ordering the crystal the moment Dick entered, a towel around his shoulders.

The mist revealed Will watching Lissa from the shadows, leaving when Lissa starts to walk down the hall towards him. "His Bruce is showing," Steph weakly laughs

She's continuing her compulsion.

The next scene shows Lissa sitting down in a classroom and several people all surrounding her and talking to her warmly, gossiping and following her every word. Will moved to the back of the room, and was mostly ignored, though his eyes never strayed far from her.

"This isn't going to end well," Damian voiced, absently petting Ace, eyes glued to Lissa.
"You don't think they can pull this off?" Jason questioned, before turning back and gesturing to the mist and the crowd Lissa has amassed, "they're unprepared for someone to be this good- or even use- 'compulsion'. They've used her powers before and it's worked out."
"He's not onboard with this plan, she's going to get in over her head and someone will get hurt," Damian retorted.

“This is going to backfire,” is clear from the mist, and Damian blushes when everyone turns to look at him.

Will continues, voiced hushed, "Someone's going to start wondering and asking questions.”

“Stop being so melodramatic. Power shifts all the time around here," Lissa is looking straight ahead to the front of the church, a confident smile on her face.

“Not like this," Will's face is unreadable, but his concern for her is clear to the vigilantes.

“You don’t think my winning personality could do this on its own?”

Will pauses, considering his words carefully, "Of course I do, but if Christian spotted it right away, then someone else will—”

His words were interrupted when two guys farther down the pew suddenly exploded into snickers. Glancing to the side, the vigilantes saw them looking right at Will, not even bothering to hide their smirks. Will noticed him, but looked away trying to ignore them. Jason clenched his fists at his sides, and Steph glared at the two.

I really hope the priest will start up soon.

But the vigilantes frustration and anger swiftly changed when Lissa returned the two boy's looks, and a sudden fierceness flashed across her face. “Tell him you’re sorry,” she told them. “And make sure he believes it.” Immediately they being to fall over themselves apologising to Will and begging for forgiveness. Will shuts his face down, and goes to take a step back but stop. His eyes snap to Lissa.

I couldn’t believe it. She’d used compulsion in public—in church, of all places. And on two people at the same time.

They finally exhausted their supply of apologies, but Lissa wasn’t finished. “That’s the best you can do?” she snapped. Their eyes widened in alarm, both terrified that they’d angered her. “Liss,” Will said quickly, touching her arm. “It’s okay I, uh, accept their apologies.” Her face still radiated disapproval, but she finally nodded. The guys slumped in relief, and they quickly moved away from them both. 

The vigilantes relaxed slightly forcing themselves to relax, "that was...."

"Dangerous," Bruce finished.

Yikes. I’d never felt so relieved to have a service start. Through the bond, I felt a sort of dark satisfaction coming from Lissa. It was uncharacteristic for her, and I didn’t like it.

"She can't control it," Tim whispers, "she's using too much, it's like her powers are becoming addictive or taking over."

Will reluctantly drags his eyes from Lissa and starts to study other people, his body staying perfectly forward as if he's listening intently to the voice from the front of the church. The vigilantes follow his subtle observations and saw Christian nearby, openly watching Lissa, a troubled look on his face.

When he saw Will he scowled and turned away.

He then easily found Dimitri standing near the entrance of the church.

At the back, as usual. Though for once not scanning every corner for danger. His attention was turned inward, his expression almost pained. I still didn’t know why he comes to church. He always seemed to be wrestling with something.

In the front, the priest was talking about St. Vladimir again. “His spirit was strong, and he was truly gifted by God. When he touched them, the crippled walked, and the blind could see. Where he walked, flowers bloomed.”

The vigilantes and Will stiffened at his words.

I hadn't forgotten about St. Vladimir fully. Mason had mentioned Vladimir bringing people back from the dead, and it had reminded me of Lissa at the time. Then other things had distracted me. I hadn't thought about the saint or his "shadow-kissed" guardian - and their bond - in a while. How could I have overlooked this? Ms. Karp, I realized, wasn't the only other Moroi who could heal like Lissa. Vladimir could too.

“And all the while, the masses gathered to him, loving him, eager to follow his teachings and hear him preach the word of God…”

Turning, he stared at Lissa. She gave him a puzzled look. “What?”

"Compulsion," Bruce answered.

He didn’t get a chance to elaborate because he was whisked back to his room almost as soon as he stood up at the end of the service, being carried away from Lissa by the swarm of students rushing to get out of Church.

The moment he got home, he went straight to his computer.

Researching St. Vladimir has turned up nothing useful. Damn it. Mason had skimmed the books in the library and said there was little there. What did that leave me with? I can't get out to the library long enough to read anything.

He pushed himself away from his desk and stared at the wall.

What had Christian said that first day with Lissa? 'Over there, we have an old box full of the writings of the blessed and crazy St. Vladimir.'

The storage room above the chapel. It had the writings. Christian had pointed them out. I needed to look at them, but how? I couldn’t ask the priest. How would he react if he found out students were going up there? It’d put an end to Christian’s lair. But maybe…maybe Christian himself could help.

It was Sunday, though, and I wouldn’t see him until tomorrow afternoon. Even then, I didn’t know if I’d get a chance to talk to him alone.

He grabbed a post it note, scribbled some symbols on it and stuck it to the wall.

There, so I won't get distracted. It worked whilst we were living independently, i shouldn't break the habit.

"He can't catch a break," Steph snorted, " 'living independently' is one way to put it."

The mist then fast forwarded to him in his work out clothes, heading down to the kitchen. As he did, he passed a couple of guys.

Miles and Anthony, two 'mediocre' novices.

Miles whistled when he saw Will. “How’s it been going? You getting lonely? Want some company?”

Bruce grumbled under his breath, and Dicks face froze in the relaxed expression. He blinked once, twice.

Anthony laughed. “I can’t bite you, but I can give you something else you want.”

Glaring, Will pushed past, but Miles caught him around the waist, his hand sliding down to his butt. Will didn't say anything but glared at him jerking away. In doing so, he bumped into Anthony.

“Come on,” Anthony said, “I thought you didn’t have a problem taking on two guys at the same time.”

A new voice spoke up. “If you guys don’t walk away right now, I’ll take both of you on.”

"I didn't think novice's would care,"
"Why wouldn't they? The rumour is life changing, all classes would be affected by it," Duke muttered, eyes locked on Will frozen, doing his best to keep out of both creeps grasp.

Mason. My hero.

“You’re so full of it, Ashford,” said Miles, leaving to go square off with Mason. Anthony backed off from Will, more interested in whether or not there’d be a fight.

Adrenaline junkies.

"Feel like that's hypocritical," Duke weakly joked, though Cass shook her head, "he enjoys training but plans to much, he thinks before jumping...mostly."

"Still jumps though," Dick piped up.

“Are you doing him too?” Miles asked Mason. “You don’t want to share?” “Say one more word about him, and I’ll rip your head off.” “Why? He’s just a cheap blood—” Mason punched him.

It didn’t rip Miles' head off or even cause anything to break or bleed, but it looked like it hurt.

Miles eyes widened, and he lunged toward Mason. The sound of doors opening in the hall caused everyone to freeze.

Novices got in a lot of trouble for fighting. It's why i didn't try anything, still on thin ice.

“Probably some guardians coming.” Mason grinned. “You want them to know you were beating up on a defenceless novice?”

Miles and Anthony exchanged glances. “Come on,” Anthony said. “Let’s go. We don’t have time for this.” Miles reluctantly followed. “I’ll find you later, Ashford.” When they were gone, I turned on Mason, saying nothing and just glaring.

“You’re welcome,” he said drily.

“Hn, didn't need your help”

“Sure. You were doing just fine on your own.”

“They caught me off guard, that’s all. I could have dealt with them eventually.”

“Look, don’t take being pissed off at them out on me.”

“I just don’t like being treated like…a girl.”

“...you aren't a girl. And I was just trying to help.”

I looked at him and saw the earnestness on his face. He meant well. No point in being a prick to him when I had so many other people to hate lately.

“…thanks," A stagnant pause later, "Sorry I snapped at you.”

They continued talking, and Will managed to get him to spill some more school gossip. He had noticed Lissa’s rise in status but didn’t seem to find it strange.

I again noticed the adoring look he always got around me spread across his face. It made me sad to have him feel that way about me. Guilty, even. How hard would it be, to go out with him? He was nice, funny, and reasonably good-looking. We got along. Why couldn’t I just return his feelings?

"Not a good reason to date someone," Steph smiled, Cass nodding next to her.

The answer came to me before I’d even finished asking myself the question. I couldn’t be Mason’s boyfriend because when I imagined someone holding me and whispering dirty things in my ear, he had a Russian accent.

Bruce made a constipated noise and Damian scowled. Tim blinked at the mist before quickly pretending to be busy on his computer. Jason and Steph snorted, the former much quieter than the latter, and Duke didn't even tried to hide his laugh.

Mason continued watching me admiringly, oblivious to what was going on in my head. Feeling a little guilty, I shifted my conversation to a more flirty style and watched Mason’s glow increase.

Will leaned beside him on the wall so their arms just touched and gave him a lazy smile. “You know, I still don’t approve of your whole hero thing, but you did scare them. That was almost worth it.”

“But you don’t approve?”

He brushed his arm alongside Mason for a couple of seconds, “No. I mean, it’s hot in principle but not in practice.”

"Oh God he's going full Brucie," Duke cringed, though Steph started cackling. Damian looked away from the screen.

Mason laughed. “The hell it isn’t.” He caught hold of Will's hand and gave him a knowing look. “Sometimes you need to be saved. I think you like being saved sometimes and just can’t admit it.”

“And I think you get off on saving people and just can’t admit it.”

“I don’t think you know what gets me off. Saving damsels like you is just the honorable thing to do,” he declared loftily.

Will's facade didn't drop but his eyes flashed with slight annoyance before blinking it away. “Then prove it. Do me a favor just because it’s ‘the right thing to do.’ ”

“Sure,” he said immediately, “Name it.”

“I need you to get a message to Christian Ozera.” His eagerness faltered. “What the—? You aren’t serious.”

“Yes. Completely.”

“Will…I can’t talk to him. You know that.”

“I thought you said you’d help. I thought you said helping 'damsels' is the honorable thing to do.”

“I don’t really see how honor’s involved here.” Will gave him a slight pout. He caved.

“What do you want me to tell him?”

“Tell him I need St. Vladimir’s books. The ones in storage. He needs to sneak them to me soon. Tell him it’s for Lissa. And tell him…tell him I lied the night of the reception.” He hesitated. “Tell him I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t have to. Just do it. Please?” He turned on the suave smile again.

Mason quickly left ,with hasty assurances that he'd see what he could do, and Will went off to practice.

Bruce is stubbornly looking at the wall, through the mist, "I'm not that bad."

"Bruce Wayne caught locked in the bathroom...again," Jason announced as if a news reporter.

"Bruce Wayne partying it up at the Ice Lounge at 3...." Dick added on,

"in the afternoon" they all said in unison.

"Your escapades are embarrassing Father, your commitment to your image is what got us here."
"Damian," Bruce sternly said, exasperated.

The mist snaps to the middle of Will and Dimitri training. They seem to be practicing moves, hitting each other in a rhythm. When Will missteps, or feels as if he makes a mistake, he'll repeat it over until he gets it right. Wordlessly, they switch between hand to hand contact, to kicks, to different moves. Their must have been some unspoken agreement or signal, because they both stop to take a break.

"You've improved a lot."

Will grunts in agreement, stretching his arms and shaking his hand out.

"How superhuman is their strength, agility, and do they have enhanced healing?" Dick muses, having watched some of the hits each other had taken without even so much as a flinch.

"I don't think its anything like the Supers, Wonder Woman or Wonder girl, but they definitely have enhanced healing, if Will was able to heal a bite wound without a hospital and much worry after a couple weeks rest." Tim replies easily, "we'll have to test it out."

At that moment, Guardian Petrov walks in, the old gym shaking slightly as the door slams shut. She sees them immediately, but doesn't stop moving, "Need to grab some equipment." She goes into the back to grab some mats, but drops them in the main area and walks towards the centre of the room and jerks her head towards the circle, "lets see how you're doing."

Will nods and walks over, before then suddenly lunging forward to hit her on the chest. They fight for a couple more minutes until Petrov calls it and steps back, "you've caught up."

She looks over to Dimitri then, "your mentoring is working."

"Not my mentor."

Wills voice is controlled, but clear.

She looks at him, nods and then walks out, not saying another word.

Will is drinking out of his water bottle, ignoring Dimitri glances over at him. He breathes through his nose, dropping his bottle and shaking his hands out again, clenching and releasing his fists.

"I had a mentor," Dimitri breaks the silence first.

Will's checking his new wraps on his hands, but moves his head towards him.

Dimitri walks over to him and sits on the bench, he turns his head, tilting it up to look at him, "I don't remember learning you had one."
"It wasn't official yet, before-"

"Your departure?" His voice, though controlled, was betrayed by the quirk of his lips and warmth in his eyes, Will didn't see it. He's rubbing at his wrist.

"His death."

Dimitri understands immediately, and stares in front of him, eyes down.

"He said had, did his mentor also?"

"Guardians have a low life expectancy," Bruce gritted out, hearing his own heartbeat.

"He taught me, he- they all- let me train with them sometimes. He sat me down once, to talk about it-before- but i already sort of saw him like that." Will snorted. "We all knew I would join them. It. It was well known the Dragomir's wish was for me to be Lissa's guardian." A small smile graces his face, full of melancholy, "But the Dragomir Guardian's, they were the ones who knew I could be her guardian- that I would be capable and worthy of such a responsibility. That I wasn't just gifted such a honour, but I deserved it."

I was to be her guardian. I was her guardian.

He laughed at bit at that, but then sniffs his nose, pushing off the wall towards the mat. Dimitri follows they continue in silence, the scene slowly fading away.

The vigilantes all look at the crystals stand, the sand in the bottom mockingly not full.

"Same time next week," Jason nods, leaving the room.

"Be punctual," Damian projects out at his back, before leaving out another door.

"I mean these visions have been short the last few weeks, only showing a day, his life can not be that boring," Steph piped up.
"He is on house arrest and is 'watching' his friend, it'll likely just be repetitive. Lessons, watching, training," Cass refutes.

"I don't think the sand is falling linearly," Barb mutters, "the amount falling each week is different, I don't think i can predict when we'll meet."

"We don't have to wait," Tim responded.

"He's not 18 and the responsibility of the school," Barb points out, "we don't want to make an bad impression the first time we contact them, especially," she stresses," as it's likely Will will still be apart of their world."

Bruce looks up at her, and she answers him, "he already has sworn to protect Vasillisa, the last of her line, she is a part of their politics, a princess, Will won't leave her, and she won't leave."
"They did once."

"Bruce," Barb says flatly, "he isn't Damian, he hasn't been handed over to you to raise, he'll be an adult, and he's not even human, he's apart of another world. You have to manage your expectations."

Bruce grunts before exiting, taking the crystal back to the cave.