#mairbat

Hi everyone! I can’t believe I’m on chapter 6 already! Your guys support has been the lifeblood of this story. I could not have written this without your support. I’m really glad you liked the last chapter. I thought the story could use a little bit of sweetness. I tried tagging everyone, though some of them Tumblr is saying aren’t real accounts so I apologize for that. Anyways, here is the next installment of Broken Angels. Again, if you have any comments, suggestion, or question, please let me know. While I may not answer many of them, I do read them all. Anyway, hope ya’ll enjoy! Peace!

In all his years of service, Gordon had never met someone as infuriating as this woman. When they had finally gotten in contact with Marinette’s teacher, Gordon expected them to at the very least sound concerned. Maybe a little worried. This was Gotham. Gotham! And they had lost one of their students. That would be reason for anyone to panic. But this … this woman barley batted an eye. She didn’t even come down to the station as soon as she got called, and when she did show, she brought what looked like her entire class.

“Let me get this straight. Marinette, got into a fight with one of your other student. She destroyed said student’s property and was about to get physical with her. So the rest of the class defended said student, which resulted in Marinette’s injuries. After that fact, she ran, nearly got hit by a truck, and ended up here. Is that what you’re saying?” Gordon asked, forcing his tone to remain professional. The teacher, Bustier, nodded, opening her mouth to say something, but Gordon cut her off. “And you saw this happen and did nothing?”

The teacher seemed a little taken back by the question, no, the accusation. Her face quickly becoming annoyed.

“I was at the front desk at the time, fixing some last minute changes. I heard the commotion, but when I got there, Marinette was already gone. The entire class described what happened, and their stories collaborated. Marinette has a … tendency to draw attention to herself. She’s disappeared multiple times on numerous trips. This is just another case of that.” She informed him, and Gordon caught the underlying sharp edge to her tone.

“And you didn’t think of reporting it? Ma’am, this is Gotham. I don’t even what to think what could have happened if we didn’t find her.” Gordon asked, his voice rising minutely. ‘You would’ve had a casualty on your hands,’ was unsaid but everyone in the station heard it. At least the personal did.

“Of course I reported it, I’m not inept. As soon as I learned what happened, I reported it to the school, like always. But as I said, Marinette had done this before and I couldn’t leave my other students alone. Hopefully this will teacher her not to run away.” Bustier said. “Now, I want to get my students back to the hotel. So if you could get Marinette for me, we’ll be on our way. And if you have any more questions, talk to the embassy.”

“… Officer Hill will come by with the paper work you need to sign for Marinette’s release. I’ll get her and you can pick up her items at the front desk.” Gordon said, his tone dropping in temperature as he rose, motioning Hill over.

He had wanted to question that teacher more, but she pulled the embassy card. She knew her rights and she wasn’t afraid to use them, and that didn’t sit right. If things happened the way she said, then she would have never pulled that card. No one in the class bore any signs of bullying. They all had been chatting rather loudly in French, so he couldn’t quiet understand what they were saying, but he did get a sense of self-righteousness. He did not like it.

Halting in front of the door, Gordon took a few, deep, calming breaths. The last thing he needed was for Marinette to see him riled. Opening the door, he was greeted with the sight of Marinette trying to teach Spencer proper techniques of drawing. Though most of the papers surround the duo were of very badly drawn stickmen. But she was smiling, looking more content then Gordon had seen her all day, chattering away softly in French. The sight brought a bitter smile to his face. This kid didn’t deserve anything that was happening to her. He just prayed that they could find a loophole for them to investigate. They just needed that loophole.

“Marinette, your teacher’s here to take you back.”

As Gordon spoke, he watched her closely, looking for any signs of anything. The small curl of her shoulders, the slow darkening of her blue eyes as the happiness was replaced by resignation, the way she seemed to shut herself off. Gordon knew it had something to do with the teacher or the class and he felt bile rise at the thought of turning this sweet little girl over to them. But at the moment, his hands were tied.

She slowly rose, arranging the papers and putting them into neat piles, obviously staling for time. Before they left the room, Gordon gently put his hand on her shoulder, catching her attention. He felt his heart constrict at the sight of her large eyes looking up at him questioningly, her one red eye fanning his growing anger. Rummaging through his pockets, Gordon pulled out a card, handing it to her.

“Marinette, listen. If you are in any trouble, or you don’t feel safe, or if anything happens, call this number. Call this number and I will get there as fast as I can. It doesn’t matter what time of day it is, ok. Just promise me you’ll call. Ok?” Gordon spoke slowly, giving Spencer time to translate without rushing.

Marinette went to grab the offered card, only to pull her hand up short, hesitation shining in her eyes. Gordon didn’t push it on her, he just continued to hold it out to her, silently offering the lifeline. Her eyes searching his, looking for something. After a few moments, she seemed to find it. Taking the card, she slipped it into her pocket, hiding it from the world. Smiling at her, Gordon turned to lead her out, but was stopped by a small tug on his sleeve. Turning around, he found Marinette gripping his cuff, her eyes glued to the ground.

“Thank you.” She whispered in flawless English, her voice carrying the familiar Gotham accent. So she hadn’t lost it after all.

“Marinette, I want you to know that we, that I’m on your side. Alright. I’ll believe you.” Gordon assured her, giving her an encouraging smile. The next thing he knew, he had his arms full again. The hug was quick, like she was afraid of crossing a line. When she pulled away, Gordon watched as she took a shaky breath before giving a swift nod. Leading her back to the main office, he gave her shoulder one last squeeze of comfort before they came into view of her classmate’s.

As soon as they entered the room, the chatter ceased. Most of the officers knew of her injuries, but hadn’t actually seen the extent of them. When the class finally saw her, Gordon couldn’t quiet tell what they were thinking. Whatever it was, was quickly discussed on French. He heard Marinette’s name mentions multiple times, but it didn’t appear like they were addressing her. When her teacher caught a look at Marinette, her face went sour. Rapid fire French flew out of Bustier, though none of seemed out of concern. It sounded disappointed, like she was reprimanding her. The more she talked, the more Marinette seemed to shrink, her eyes never leaving the ground.

Gordon caught Spencer’s eyes, who had come in behind them, and they flashed in shock before turning angry. Silencing Spencer before he could speak, Gordon shook his head, signaling they would talk later.

“Ms. Bustier, it’s late and I believe you said you wanted to get you class back to the hotel.” Gordon stated, pulling the red haired teacher’s attention away from Marinette for the time being.

“I did, thank you. Marinette, go get your things. Everyone else, head out and wait by the bus.” She ordered, corralling the other students outside, leaving Marinette in the station to gather what little belongings she had from the front. As she was leaving, Gordon called out one last time.

“Marinette.”

Turning, she met Gordon’s eyes for the last time that night. The contrast of the blue and red created a haunting picture.

“Stay safe, kid.”

A small smile light up her face as she nodded. Waving to all the personal in the office, Marinette disappeared through the GCPD doors, but somehow, everyone felt that wouldn’t be the last time they saw her enter or exit through those door.

“Why didn’t let me say anything?”

Spencer’s question came before the doors finished closing behind her.

“They all assumed we couldn’t understand French. That would have caused them to be more loose with what they said. Now what did they say?”

“… I couldn’t quiet hear what her classmates where saying it was too quiet. But what I could make out was them saying that the bruising suited her and she doing it for attention and they should have done more. And the teacher, she was saying that she expected more from Marinette. That she was setting a bad example for the rest of the class. That she needed to apologize to ‘Lila’ and that she would be informing her parents.” Spencer said, one hand making gestures while the other was running through his hair.

“Hmm. Hill, call GNN. Tell them they can run the story. Videos included, just no names.”

“Commissioner?”

“Marinette’s from Gotham. Somebody is bound to know her. If we can find someone who does …”

“We may just find our loophole.”

“Exactly. Jackson, I need you to pull up everything you can on her, especially the adoption papers. Find something we can use. Clauses, conditions, something that was neglected in the signing. Anything. Hoffman, I want you trailing her. Be discreate. Don’t let yourself be seen.”

“What?”

“Chief, you can’t be serous? Hoffman’s still a rookie.”

“She’s also one of the best we got. They might notice one of you hanging around. Hoffman’s the least conspicuous out of the bunch.” Gordon explained. “And Spencer, I want a full report on everything you heard and get a social worker in here to look at those drawings. There might be a clue in them.”

“Chief, why are you doing all this? Not that what you’re doing isn’t good, but, you could get into serous trouble for this. I mean, you very well could be risking your carrier for this. Why?”

“Like you said Hoffman, she’s one of ours. And Gotham protects its own.”

 @mystery-5-5@captainmac6@you-will-never-know-how-i-think@mochinek0@sonif50@zalladane@thebananathatwrites@schrodingers25@kuroko26@miraculousbelladonna@souleaterlicestein@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry@ijustwannabecanadian@ellerahs@ranger-paladinikoe@xxmadamjinxx@derpingrainbow@sassy-spocko@vixen-uchiha@mjisntme@iggy-of-fans@violentbisexualprophecywriter@valeks-princess@crazylittlemunchkin@redscarlet95@alexzandria-747@ayuchan07@whomthefyck@rhub4rb@constancetruggle@rikku052@kurogaya913@shizukiryuu@spicybelladonna@zazzlejazzle@luciferge@mewwitch@emotionalsupportginger@grunklestantheman@my-name-is-michell@northernbluetongue@chez-pezeater@shamefullove@goggles-mcgee@gingerdaile@zebrabaker@tinybrie@bluefiredemon@tbehartoo@god-is-dead-and-so-am-i@shyestofhearts@darkthunder1589@fridayfirefly@yazi-ing@lunar-wolf-warrior@ladylb@vivilakitty@ghostcryptid@casual-darkness@thatrandomfandomgirl@mindfulmagics@myriad-of-passionate-pettiness@violatiger8@seraphichana@synnesstra@friedchickening@kiara-rose-blackthorn@driftingmoonlitpetals@nataladriana9@ginamarie1512@etheralentity@tritaledkitsune@ki117h3dr4g0n@throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen@particularlygeeky