The soft creak of her bedroom door stirred Maggie from her restless sleep. Before she could fully wake, a gentle nudge on her shoulder made her groan.
"Hey, Mags. Time to rise and shine," Jason said, his voice teasing but warm.
Maggie rolled onto her side, pulling the blanket over her head. "Go away, Jason."
Jason smirked, unfazed by her reaction. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down slightly. "Not happening. I'm supposed to check on you before I head out. Bruce's order's, remember? Rest and no trouble."
Maggie peeked out from under the blanket, her eyes narrowing. "I'm in bed. That's literally the opposite of trouble."
"Yeah, well, with you, I don't take chances," Jason replied, his smirk widening.
Maggie sighed, letting the blanket fall from her face. "You're such a pain."
Jason leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair out of her face with surprising gentleness. "I am, actually. You should appreciate it more."
Before Maggie could retort, he kissed her cheek lightly.
"Jason," she muttered, her tone flat as she glared at him. "That doesn't make me less annoyed."
Jason chuckled, leaning back slightly. "I know. But you're cute when you're annoyed."
Maggie rolled her eyes, though a faint blush crept into her cheeks. "I'm injured, not cute."
"Can't be both?" Jason teased, standing up and grabbing his backpack.
"You're impossible," Maggie said, shaking her head as she shifted against the pillows, trying to get comfortable.
Jason hesitated in the doorway, glancing back at her. "Just… don't do anything dumb while I'm gone, okay? Rest up. I'll check in later."
Maggie huffed, waving him off. "Yeah, yeah. Go before you're late."
Jason grinned, giving her a quick wink. "Love you, Mags. Even when you're annoyed."
She rolled her eyes again but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. "Love you too. Now go."
As the door clicked shut behind him, Maggie leaned back against the pillows.
After Jason left, the house fell into a deep, quiet stillness. Maggie stayed in bed, the aches in her body making any thought of movement unappealing. She stared at the ceiling, her mind drifting back to Lillyanna's words from the night before.
"You'll find out in years to come when the timing is right."
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the voice to stay away, but it lingered in the back of her mind like a faint echo.
A knock on the door broke the silence, and Alfred stepped in, carrying a tray with breakfast.
"Good morning, Miss Maggie," he said, his voice gentle but bright. "I thought you might appreciate some sustenance."
Maggie sat up slowly, wincing as the motion pulled at her ribs. "Thanks, Alfred."
He set the tray on the nightstand and gave her a kind smile. "Master Jason mentioned you were feeling particularly annoyed this morning."
Maggie snorted softly, shaking her head. "He's impossible."
"Indeed," Alfred replied, adjusting the pillows behind her. " A bit rough around the edges, but sincere nonetheless."
Maggie nodded, taking a bite of the toast Alfred had prepared. The warmth of the food was comforting, but the weight of Lillyanna's presence still pressed.
"Alfred," she said hesitantly, not looking up from her plate.
"Yes, Miss Maggie?"
"How… how do you know if something's wrong with you? Like, if you're different?"
Alfred paused, his perceptive gaze settling on her. "Different is not synonymous with wrong, my dear. Some of the most remarkable individuals I know were those who embraced their differences, rather than feared them."
Maggie frowned slightly, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the tray. "But what if those differences make you… dangerous?"
Alfred studied her carefully for a moment before speaking. " A blade, for instance, can be used to harm or to protect. The wielder determines its purpose."
Maggie nodded faintly. She wanted to believe his words, but Lillyanna's presence felt more like a curse.
"Thank you, Alfred," she said quietly, though her mind was far from at ease.
"Always, Miss Maggie," Alfred replied warmly. "Now, eat up and rest. I'll be just downstairs if you need anything."
Maggie had just dozed off again when the faint sound of voices woke her. She blinked groggily, rubbing her eyes, and realized Bruce was back from Wayne Enterprises earlier than usual. His deep, even tone carried up from the study, though she couldn't make out what he was saying.
Curious but cautious, Maggie swung her legs off the bed and stood, wincing slightly as the motion pulled at her injuries. She padded toward the door, her steps slow and deliberate going down the stairs. Peeking into the hallway, she followed the low rumble of conversation to the study. The door was slightly ajar, and she could see Bruce standing near his desk, speaking with someone whose voice carried a lighter, sharper edge.
As she got closer, her breath hitched. Leaning casually against the desk, cigarette in hand, was none other than John Constantine.
"Well, Bruce," Constantine said, taking a drag from his cigarette, "seems like your girl's got more going on than she's letting on."
Maggie froze, her heart thudding in her chest.
"She hasn't said a word about anything," Bruce replied, his arms crossed, his tone calm but edged with concern. "But I know something's been bothering her."
Constantine exhaled a thin stream of smoke, smirking faintly. "Oh, something's bothering her, alright. Whatever it is, it's been whispering to her, Bruce. And it's been whispering for a while."
Maggie's stomach dropped.
Bruce's brow furrowed. "You're sure?"
"Sure enough," Constantine replied, flicking ash into a tray. "Thing is, she's keeping it bottled up, and that's never a good sign. The longer she keeps quiet, the stronger whatever's got its claws in her becomes."
Bruce's expression darkened, his voice lowering. "I've asked her what's wrong. She keeps saying she's fine."
Maggie remained just outside the slightly ajar door, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't pull herself away; something compelled her to keep listening.
Inside, Constantine took another drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling lazily around him. "She's a Wayne," he said with a dry chuckle. "You lot are great at hiding things. Doesn't mean the cracks aren't there. It's just a matter of time before it all comes spilling out."
Bruce stood across from him, his posture tense. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting Constantine's eyes again. "I hate to ask this," he began slowly, "but is there a way you can... make her talk?"
Constantine raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of curiosity and mild amusement. "Make her talk? You mean like with a spell or charm?"
Bruce nodded, though his eyes betrayed a hint of reluctance. "If something is influencing her—something magical—we need to know what it is. She won't open up, and I'm concerned it's getting worse."
Constantine tapped ash into the tray, considering Bruce's request. "You know, using magic to pry into someone's mind isn't exactly a walk in the park. There's risks involved—especially if she's got something powerful whispering in her ear."
"Risks we're willing to take if it means helping her," Bruce replied firmly.
Constantine sighed, leaning back against the desk. "Alright, suppose I do have a way to loosen her tongue. It might not be pleasant for her. She could feel invaded, betrayed even. You prepared for that fallout?"
Bruce's jaw tightened. "I'd rather have her angry and safe than silent and in danger."
Maggie's breath caught in her throat. The idea of Constantine using magic on her without her consent filled her with a mix of fear and anger. She knew her dad cared about her, but this felt like a violation.
"See?" Lillyanna's voice whispered slyly in her mind. "They're willing to meddle with your mind. They don't trust you."
Back inside the study, Constantine shrugged. "Fair enough. There's a subtle enchantment I could use—a kind of truth serum, but magical. She wouldn't even know it's happening."
Bruce nodded slowly. "How soon can you do it?"
"I'll need to gather a few things," Constantine replied, stubbing out his cigarette. "But I could have it ready by tonight."
Maggie felt a surge of panic as Constantine and Bruce continued their conversation in the study. The idea of them using magic to make her talk filled her with fear. They can't know. They can't know about Lillyanna.
Quietly, she stepped back from the door, retreating down the hallway with careful, measured steps until she reached her room. Closing the door softly behind her, she leaned against it, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
Her mind raced, and then, as if summoned by her panic, Lillyanna's voice slithered into her thoughts.
"You see what they're willing to do, don't you?"
Maggie pressed her hands to her temples, shaking her head. "They're just trying to help."
"Help?" Lillyanna scoffed, her tone sharp and mocking. "They want to control you. And Constantine?... If you stay here, it's only a matter of time before he pries."
"What do you mean?" Maggie whispered, her voice trembling.
"Imagine what will happen if someone like Constantine starts poking around in your head."
Maggie sank onto the edge of her bed, her hands trembling. "So what do I do?"
"You can't stay here. You need to run. Get away from Constantine, from Bruce, from all of them. Before they make things worse." Lillyanna purred, her tone softening slightly.
Maggie shook her head. "I can't just leave. They'll come after me."
"Slip out when they're distracted. You're injured, yes, but I can give you the strength to get far enough away. Somewhere they can't find you. Somewhere we can figure this out without their interference."
Maggie hesitated, her heart pounding. She hated the thought of leaving Jason, and everyone else behind, but the fear of Constantine uncovering the truth—or worse, breaking her mind in the process—was overwhelming.
"What if you're lying?" Maggie whispered. "What if leaving makes it worse?"
"You don't have a choice," Lillyanna said, her voice firm. "Stay, and they'll tear you apart in their quest to 'fix' you. Run, and you'll have a chance to protect yourself—and them—from what's coming."
Maggie sat in silence, her thoughts spiraling. She didn't trust Lillyanna, but her words held a chilling logic. If Constantine used magic on her, it might unravel the fragile balance she was barely maintaining.
"I need to think," Maggie said finally, her voice shaky.
"There's no time," Lillyanna replied sharply. "They're already plotting their next move. You need to act, Maggie. Now."
Maggie swallowed hard, her gaze darting to the window. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across her room, the kind that seemed to twist and shift just out of sight as she finishes her journal entry.
"Do it, Maggie," Lillyanna urged. "Run."
Maggie moved quickly, her hands trembling as she grabbed a bag from her closet. Lillyanna's words echoed in her mind, sharp and insistent.
"You need to run, Maggie. It's the only way."
Her breath hitched as she tossed clothes into the bag, her movements hurried and frantic. She didn't care about being neat—she just needed to move. A couple of T-shirts, jeans, a hoodie, and the essentials went into the bag. Next came a small first aid kit from her dresser drawer, a water bottle, and some snacks she'd been saving. She hesitated for a moment before grabbing the small stash of cash dad always insisted she keep for emergencies.
Her phone sat on the nightstand, its screen dark. She picked it up, hesitating for only a moment before tossing it into the bag. It was the last thing she packed.
"Smart girl," Lillyanna purred. "But you need to move now. Before they notice you're gone."
Maggie zipped the bag, slinging it over her shoulder. Every movement sent a sharp ache through her ribs and legs, but she gritted her teeth against the pain. The shadows in the room seemed to ripple in anticipation, as if they were alive, waiting for her command.
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "Alright," she whispered to herself. "Let's do this."
Stretching out her hand, she reached for the shadows in the corner of the room. They responded immediately, coiling around her like a protective shroud. Maggie focused, her mind zeroing in on her destination. She didn't know where she'd end up exactly.
The shadows enveloped her completely, and with a low, eerie hum, the world around her twisted and bent. For a brief moment, she felt weightless, like she was floating in a dark void. Then, with a sharp jolt, she was thrown forward, landing unceremoniously on a cold, hard surface.Maggie groaned as she pushed herself up, her body protesting with every movement. She glanced around, realizing she was in a dimly lit alley. The sounds of cars honking, people chatting, distant sirens filtered in from the street just beyond the alleyway.
She leaned against the wall, clutching her side as the pain from her injuries flared. The teleportation had taken more out of her than she expected. The further distance, combined with her injuries, left her feeling drained and weak.
"You made it," Lillyanna's voice said, her tone satisfied.
"Yeah, barely," Maggie muttered under her breath. She adjusted the strap of her bag, her mind racing. She was in Metropolis, but now what? She didn't know the city well, and she didn't have a plan beyond getting away from Gotham.
"Find shelter. Regroup. Rest," Lillyanna instructed. "You're no good to yourself—or me—if you collapse."
Jason bounded up the stairs two at a time, still dressed in his school uniform, his backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. He was eager to check on Maggie—partly to see how she was feeling, partly to smooth things over.
"Hey, Mags," he called as he approached her door. "I'm home. How're you holding up?"
When there was no answer, Jason frowned. He pushed the door open slowly, expecting to find her curled up in bed. Instead, the room was eerily empty. The covers were slightly disheveled, and the faint indentation on the pillow showed where she'd been. But Maggie was gone.
Jason's brow furrowed as he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room. "Maggie?" he called again, louder this time.
The bathroom door was slightly ajar, and Jason moved to push it open, only to find it empty. His stomach churned as unease crept over him. Something wasn't right.
He turned back to the room, his eyes darting to the open closet. A quick glance revealed that some of her clothes were missing, along with the small overnight bag she kept on the top shelf.
Jason's gaze swept the room, landing on the nightstand. The phone charger was gone, and so was the book she'd been reading. It wasn't just her leaving the room—it was her leaving the house.
"Damn it, Maggie," Jason muttered, his heart racing. He turned on his heel and headed for the garage.
Jason pushed open the door to the garage, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. He scanned the rows of vehicles quickly, his stomach sinking as he counted. Every car was accounted for. Every motorcycle sat untouched, their keys still in their designated slots.
Jason ran a hand through his hair, frustration building. "No bikes, no cars… so where the hell did you go?"
He paused, realization dawning. His mind flashed to the moments he'd seen Maggie use her powers— teleportation.
"She used the shadows," Jason whispered, his voice low and tense.
The idea sent a chill down his spine. She'd been injured. She wasn't strong enough to use that kind of power without consequences. If she'd teleported, she could be anywhere—and worse, she might be in danger.
Jason clenched his fists and stormed back toward the house. He needed to tell Bruce. Now.
Jason burst into the study, his face set with frustration and worry. Bruce, seated at his desk, looked up sharply, immediately sensing something was wrong.
"She's gone," Jason said, his voice tight.
Bruce stood, his expression darkening. "What do you mean, gone?"
Jason took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. "She's not in her room. Her bag's gone, some clothes are missing, and none of the bikes or cars are touched." He paused, meeting Bruce's eyes. "I think she used the shadows, Bruce. I think she teleported somewhere."