Chapter 6: Family Matters

Mark felt a little better after his flight. Of course, Burce knew he had snuck out, Jon was right, sadly. He was given a painfully long lecture, about him and not listening, yatta yatta. Bruce was acting like an overprotective dad, which Mark didn't appreciate. He's seventeen. Not a kid. Yet Jon, who's ten, can fly around like a bat out of hell- wait a second. He was complaining about Bruce worrying, the same thing Jon was complaining about!

Fuck. Guess worrying parents never stop being annoying.

Either way, it didn't matter what Bruce thought, Mark was going to go flying again. No matter what the man said. This time staying in Gotham and not getting lost. But during the day, where no cover of night would hide him, he had nothing better to do except sit around and waste away. Damian was at school, as was Tim. Dick was in Bludhaven, and Steph, and Duke also had school. Cass was probably in the training room, Jason 'did whatever the fuck he wanted,' quoted straight from him when Mark asked what he does. So during the afternoon, Mark had the whole manor to himself. Bruce was busy running a business, and Alfred was busy keeping the house clean.

He really did not envy the butler, the manor was huge and never-ending.

Mark, in his free time, often found himself wandering the manor. Usually, he'd have little free time, since he started being a hero. But now Make found himself with too much time. A curse and a blessing. He was grasping at ways to pass the time, resisting the urge to jump out a window and fly somewhere. Because Bruce would know, people would see, and Mark would make headlines.

So what did Mark do with his precious free time? Most teenagers would have a raging party or create havoc, especially when alone in a huge manor. Mark did- Well…

"Sir, I must ask, what are you doing?" He peered down at Alfred from his perch. One perk of the manor was the high ceiling. Rich people were obsessed with high ceilings, and recently, he found a nice ledge near the front entrance. Begging to be sat on. It was his hiding place, somewhere he could relax without being bothered. Sure his room would suffice, but one could only sit inside a room for so long. Alfred hadn't noticed it, until now, apparently.

"Watching a show," he mumbled, shoving some popcorn into his mouth. He even brought pillows and a blanket, which hung slightly off the side. There were times when they would slip off and fall, one time Mark fell. He was uninjured! But he was glad no one was around to see it.

"Up there?"

"Yeah," Mark mumbled, pressing play. Bruce had long ago given him a phone for calling and texting. For emergencies, he claimed. But he often used it to binge-watch whatever crappy show he could find. After all, he didn't have his comics or anything else, just a phone. With Netflix.

"There is a theater room."

"I know," Mark grumbled, couldn't Alfred leave him be, for just a second? He knew every bit of this manor because he'd explored it already. The place lost its charm after one week, Mark missed his home. Where he didn't have to walk two minutes to get to the kitchen. Then the front door slammed open and entered Damian, Tim, Duke, and Steph. Adorning Gotham Academy clothes. He remembered Bruce offering to enroll him, but Mark had refused. He considered this adventure to another universe as a vacation, not a learning experience. Damian stomped ahead, clicking away at his phone with that pinched expression he always seemed to wear.

"Ah, welcome home young masters," Alfred greeted.

"Who were you talking to?" Tim asked, looking around. Bruce walked up behind them and closed the door.

"Master Mark. He's made himself welcome on a ledge," Alfred jerked a thumb upwards, and he found heads looking up at him. Mark waved.

"Cool, can I come up there?" Steph asked, they didn't seem surprised.

Mark glanced around, "Uh, sure. It's not that spacious though," he threw the blanket off of him, and jumped. Slowly floating down til his feet touched the ground, his phone still in hand. Mark sighed, he'd have to watch this shitty romance later and pocketed his phone.

"Tt- that's how you spend your time? What a waste. You could be doing so much more," Damian snarked. He's right, but Mark wasn't going to admit that.

"You're right. I could snoop around your rooms- oh wait, you've snooped in my room multiple times already," Mark shot back, grinning. Mark only knew because he'd come back to a room neater than he left it.

Damian bristled, "I have done no such thing-"

"Ladies ladies, calm down," Steph said, a smirk on her face. "We can all snoop around and argue later. For now? I'm starving," she patted them both on the shoulders and walked past them. Mark frowned at her, Damian hissing curses. Tim mumbled something under his breath, following Steph, eyes practically glued to his phone.

"Seriously Damian. I don't know what your deal is," Mark said, running a hand through his hair.

"I find your presence an insult to the Wayne family. Especially when you make no effort to contribute and laze around all day," Damian muttered, walking away.

Mark frowned, "Contribute to what? The company?" He asked, sparing Bruce a confused look.

Bruce sighed, "No, as a vigilante. Damian takes it very seriously. Though he's right. You could do better things than sit around all day," he said, an amused twinkle in his eye.

"Maybe," Mark muttered. Bruce patted him on the shoulder, walking away. It's not like he was gaining weight by lying around! Though perhaps he should exercise a little. He went from running around saving lives every day to… lying around. "Damn, Bruce is right," he whispered. What should he do then? Train?

"Hey, uhh, Mark, right?" He paused to look at Duke. Out of all the members of the bat clan, he interacted with Duke the least. Cass too. Yet here he was approaching him. Everyone had already left, leaving him with Duke. He had no issues with him, which was the problem, Mark had no clue who he was. All he knew was Duke was a vigilante named Signal and wore bright yellow. That's it.

"Yeah?" He muttered.

"Listen, I know we haven't talked much-"

"I don't think we've ever talked," Mark put in. All he remembered was Dick mentioning Duke when he asked about the bat family. He was more than happy to tell him, listing way too many adopted kids to make Mark concerned for Bruce's well-being.

Duke nodded, "Yeah you're right- and that's a shame on me. I want to know you better, or," Duke smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Show you the family." Oh? Instantly, Mark's interest was peaked. Sure he's been haphazardly introduced, finding new characters and people he didn't know anything about wandering the house. He barely knew Steph, Tim, and Jason. He knows Dick, Bruce, and Damian the best. He only fucking knows Damian well because the kid would just- appear. In his room. In his way. Interrogate. Not simple interactions like Bruce and Dick. Bruce wasn't better, he didn't speak to Mark much and he never went out of his way to do so.

Dick was just a friendly guy, but busy. He couldn't come to Gotham every day to talk to Mark, let alone entertain him. Mark didn't expect the family to, he was a dog among cats after all.

In a nutshell, Mark didn't know shit. He didn't have anything to do either. He grinned a little. "Show me the family? I'm intrigued."

Duke grinned wider, "Listen, I know what it's like to be a new guy," he slung an arm around Mark, he resisted the urge to flinch. Only because Duke made his movement so obvious. He allowed Duke to walk beside him, leading him down the hallway.

"You do?"

"Yep. You wanna know how I met these guys?" Duke said, raising a brow at him.

Mark shrugged, "Sure."

"I was leading a gang of robins. Then boom, these guys pop up and say they're gonna train us…. I was a little pissed. Got put in a hanging cage-" Duke shook his head and Mark stared at him. Did he lead a gang? Of robins? Not actual robins, right? He imagined Duke with a flock of robins, it was a funny thought. "I'm getting off track. I thought they were crazy. And know what? I was right."

"Uh… where are we going?" Mark asked. Because Duke was rambling, he didn't quite understand what he was getting at, and they clearly had a set destination. Mark just doesn't know it.

"Don't worry about it," Mark got more worried as soon as Duke said that. Don't worry about it. He's worried. "You need to know what you're getting into. By living here."

Mark gave Duke a look, why the hell was he describing the family like a gang? From what little he's seen, they're a weird group of vigilantes. Not dangerous criminals he'd need a set of rules to interact with. "I'm… I thought you were introducing me?" He said, uncertain.

Duke smiled, patting his back. "I am!" Then, suddenly, he stepped away. Mark stood there, in the middle of a huge room. Duke disappeared into the shadows- yes, he literally disappeared- Mark blinked.

"Duke?" How the hell did he do that? Then, a soft rattle sounded above him. He looked up, the chandelier above him swaying a little, glass clinking together. That's odd- then something cold and sharp poked at his back. He flinched, "Ow- what the hell?" Mark whipped around.

"So kryptonite isn't a weakness. Interesting," Damian muttered, a bent sword pressed against his back. The edge and top were lined with a green glowing substance. But more concerning, he tried to stab Mark with it. Unsure if it would pierce him or not.

"Did- did you try to stab me???" Mark exclaimed, pushing the sword away.

"It was a test," Damian said, lifting his chin. "Luckily you failed. Otherwise, the sword would've impaled you," OK this was too far. He could handle the snooping and general unpleasant behavior, but stabbing? Duke appeared out of the shadows, shaking his head.

"Always watch for surprise attacks from demon boy," he muttered. Damian scowled at Duke, throwing the broken sword at him. Which he easily stepped aside from, the sword lodging itself into the wall. Mark winced, Alfred wouldn't be happy about that.

"He's not weak to kryptonite," he said to Duke, who shrugged. "What can penetrate you then?" Damian asked, squinting at him.

"Uh, enough force?" Mark offered weakly. If someone hit him hard enough he'd bleed, Mark knew that. Damian nodded, walking away with a hand upon his chin. Suddenly, Mark felt like he should watch his back, as Duke suggested. Since Damian was trying to harm him now.

"Sorry about that Mark. I tried to stop him, but- well, he had his mind set," Duke said, giving him an apologetic smile. He frowned at him, Duke plucking the sword out of the wall.

"Right…" Mark didn't believe that. "Listen, I appreciate whatever this is. But I'm tired. Maybe this can happen another day?" Mark said. It was a lame excuse. But a huge part of him believed that Duke just set him up to be stabbed, more of a gut feeling than logic. For what? To test what his weakness was? Not cool.

"Sure sure, no problem. Hit the hay- even though it's noon- I won't judge," Duke said, raising his hands. Mark felt like he was judging. He walked away, sparing Duke one last glance. He didn't know how to feel about him. He seemed nice until he set Mark up to be stabbed… at least Mark thought he did.

Suddenly, Mark was extremely aware that he was living in a manor full of people he barely knew. Sure, most of them were nice. Dick especially. But perhaps… he was in a bit of danger. Mark rubbed his back a little, still feeling the phantom touch of metal on his back. Damian didn't hold back on that stab, he knew the boy wouldn't hold back anytime soon.

Mark found himself in chaos. He didn't know what happened, what changed with this family. It's like they decided to behave until this exact moment.

Controlled chaos was the best way to describe it. The chaos that only Alfred seemed to control, the eye in a hurricane.

"Who the fuck put dye in my shampoo???" Jason, one day, roared. Slamming open the front doors, scaring Mark from where he sat upon his perch. He watched Jason, with pink-tinted hair, storm inside. Mark stifled a laugh- or he perhaps didn't. As Jason snapped his head up to him, sending Mark a murderous glare. "Was it you?"

"What? No. I don't know anything," he said, shaking his head.

Jason growled, "I'm going to shoot them," he hissed, before pulling out an actual gun. Mark froze, and Jason walked out of view. Mark decided he'd stay up here until things settled. Bulletproof or not, he didn't want to get in the middle of that. Mark would send his thoughts and prayers to whoever put dye in Jason's shampoo.

Another example came in the form of Cass, whom Mark heard little of. Perhaps there was a reason for that. Because he swore he saw her… everywhere. Outside his window once, as well. Which freaked him out. She was just there, a black figure against the night sky. When Mark threw the window open, he saw Cass grappling away. She was freaky.

Like the time he walked in on her, decimating a training dummy before turning to him. "Wanna train?" She had asked. Mark was quick to refuse, walking away as if he just escaped his death. If he said yes, he would've met the same fate as the poor dummy.

Duke was no help, despite saying he'd help. Part of Mark believed he found some sick enjoyment in watching Mark's growing confusion. Later, Duke approached him again.

"Confused?" He asked, raising a brow, an amused smile on his lips. Bastard.

"Yeah, a little. What the hell happened?" He exclaimed. "Tell me why Tim was openly staring at a dead body on his laptop. For hours, Duke. Hours! I came back downstairs and he was still staring at it!" He had been shocked to see a dead body, a crime scene, on Tim's laptop. In the living room, for everyone to see.

Duke laughed, "Oh, yeah. We had an agreement."

Mark frowned, "agreement?"

He patted him on the shoulder and started to walk away. "To behave for a week. Alfred made us promise in return for cookies," he called, effectively disappearing. Mark stood there, confused, but also not. So… that's why Alfred made cookies? That's why he's seeing more and more weird stuff. Mark let out a heavy sigh, beginning to walk upstairs. He needed to sleep. He was fucking tired again-

"Mark!" Steph slammed open her door, practically scaring him shitless.

"Don't do that!" He yelled, voice cracking a little. She ignored his yelling, instead continuing as if she didn't give him a heart attack.

"Tell me," he tensed, expecting something weird and possibly crazy to escape her mouth. Instead, two nail polish colors were shoved in his face. One purple, and the other a lighter purple. "Which one?"

"Uhhh… they're both purple?" He muttered.

Steph sighed, "Pick one."

"Ok, the lighter one," she smiled at him.

"Thank you!" And slam, she closed the door. Leaving Mark standing there. He sighed and walked away. Why question it anymore? The family was weird. But entertaining, in a way. He kind of felt… welcome. Being exposed to all their strange activities, like they were finally letting their guard down.

Either way, they couldn't actually harm him. Alfred wouldn't let them, and they weren't bad people. They saved lives. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. Mark stumbled into his room, and all he wanted to do was sleep.