When a liar gets you left behind

Chapter Thirty-Three: Twice The Trouble

{———}

  Marinette tensed as the words left the sinister man's mouth, realisation settling into her.

Her Uncle and Aunt had froze.

Her Uncle's cheery mood had vanished, the seriousness of the situation raining down on his happy parade.

Both of their faces changed from looks of realisation, to ones of utter terror.

They glanced fearfully at each other, before both looking at Marinette, both of them worried about her.

Marinette opened her mouth to shout something to them but stopped when the room flooded with people with guns, all of which pointed them around to random people.

"Why doesn't everyone just sit down, with your hands on your head," Riddler said, his tone telling them exactly what would happen if they disobeyed.

Marinette froze for a second, a natural sense of hesitation flooding through her. She wanted to do something, she did. But she could not just transform in Gotham, and this was a situation that she was not used to. Transforming, or even resisting would end up causing more harm than good, in the end, doing such a thing would not be worth it. She could not risk the lives of anyone around her just to play the hero. There were vigilantes here for a reason, they were meant to handle this, they knew how to handle this.

She glanced over to her Uncle and Aunt, she knew that she would feel guilty if they got hurt because of her carelessness.

Her lips pulled into a tense, straight line, but all of the resistance drew out of her, and she swiftly sat down as they had instructed her to do.

The kitten seemed to know this was serious, and quickly snuggled into her purse, which she quickly stuffed in the jacket that she was wearing.

She kept the purse open slightly so the little fur-ball could breathe, before once again settling on the task at hand.

She watched as her Aunt and Uncle slowly sunk down onto the floor, doing as instructed. She took note of how her Uncle was whispering things to her Aunt out of the corner of his mouth. Then proceeded to pull his jacket hoodie over his head, as well as taking off his rings and watches. Her aunt did the same.

They were trying their best to blend in, she soon realized.

She grabbed her watch off her wrist and slid it into her purse as well, then she shifted so no one could see that her jacket had a pocket on the inside. That way—hopefully—no one would go poking about in it.

The sounds of The Riddler's shoes drawing closer made her snap her eyes up.

She would be observant, and aware. She would look for any chance to help her Aunt and Uncle—anyone in trouble.

She did not really know how The Riddler's attacks worked, but she could figure out some of it by his name. Though she had not seen as of yet how that played out in his attacks.

Marinette's eyes flicked around to Damian, watching as he scowled deeply, but finally, proceeded to sit down.

The Riddler slowly walked down through the rows of people, his eyes looking for someone in particular.

"So they were right! A Wayne is here," He eyes brightened when they landed on Damian.

She watched as Damian—if possible, seemed to get even tenser than before, his eyes narrowing to slits.

This was probably the worst thing that could have happened in this situation. She knew that it was common for the villains of the city to try and capture the Waynes. Though she had not looked into why they did, it was obvious they were rich. She also knew this from Alya, she had done a few articles on the American Billionaire. She could also tell by whose signature was on Damian's clothes, the fabric they were made of, and the quality of the sewing that he was rich.

"Grab him."

Without a single word, three men stalked towards him. She watched as they drew closer, and closer—

Right up until one lifted their gun up and lunged it back down. Damian moved to the side, his position making it impossible to get completely out of the way in time, the gun grazing his right shoulder.

Damian did not flinch or in any physical way acknowledge the pain, instead he focused his glare on one of his assailants.

And, before anyone could really process it, another one of the men brought his gun down, this time landing the mark.

Instantly, he slumped, his tense posture relaxing to where his shoulders were as far down as Marinette thought physically possible.

"That should satisfy him," The Riddler said with a nod.

Marinette eyes narrowed at this statement. That seemed a bit unusual.

"Look at dis one's clothes!" One of the men said suddenly, pointing directly at Marinette.

Marinette stiffened, she knew what they must be thinking. Her clothing! It was not bought, as she had made it herself, but she knew her clothes looked professional—mainly because she was a minor professional, not that she was bragging, but still, she had made them. And perhaps that was her biggest mistake.

"She's obviously rich, bring 'er too," Another one replied.

And soon, Marinette felt a heavy object hitting her head. The last thing she saw was the bright green eyes of Damian Wayne, who quickly closed his eyes again before anyone could see him open them. That, and her Uncle grabbing her Aunt and holding her back from running to her.

Unfortunately, she was not as lucky as Damian, and soon fell into unconsciousness.

{———}

C H L O E

  Chloé looked up with a satisfied smirk on her face. She had finally finished her homework—a whole week late, might she add, but finished none-the-less.

The homework was for her least favorite class—Language Arts. She constantly used words, that, according to her teacher, were not proper or the correct grammar—or, dare she say it, not real phrases or words at all! Which, of course, was not true at all! If they were not words, then why were they used?

She was actually quite smart. She had all A+'s in her classes—not including Language Arts, which constantly stood as a A-, but still, overall, her grades were pretty good.

She set the paper down and looked out of her window. She had set up her room to where her desk was in front of the window. That way, she could look out it.

Her phone dinged, she chose to ignore it, rather continued looking out the window.

It dinged again. Then it dinged again—but this time it was not the usual ding noise. It was the noise she had set for the Akuma Alert app.

Frantically, she grabbed her phone.

It was an Akuma all right. It showed a five second video of a magical projectile making something go up into bright flames.

Sighing, she transformed, then rushed to the scene, knowing Adrien would not be far behind.

}———{