Amira Wayne

Chapter 4: Habits

What did Jason call it? Charisma? She forgot.

During lunch, Dick barged into the lunchroom and found her, dragging her to his classroom where he would introduce her to his friends, as in, his entire class.

"This is Marinette! She's a very close friend of mine! Practically my sister from other parents!" Dick said with a grin, ruffling Amira's hair as he did so.

The girls in his class cooed, buttering Amira in hopes of gaining her brother's favor.

"Guys, leave the poor girl alone. She needs her space." A girl sitting away from the group said, Amira looking to see who it was. She didn't realize she was staring until the girl beckoned her to come closer. "Hi, name's Barbara Gordon. What's yours?"

"Marinette." Amira said. "Marinette Dupain. I'm part of the middle school wing, grade 7."

"Dupain? Like the bakery-"

"Yes!" Amira said, quickly rambling about the bakery, not noticing how Dick smiled as he watched her lighten up.

Maybe he should bring her over more often.

——-

The next few days were definitely different for Amira.

Out of school, Amira would be joining Dick at the Cave, learning a few basic gymnast skills. Learning flips and other tricks were exhilarating, Amira absorbing the new skills easily.

Sometimes, some of Dick's friends would join in, Amira quickly taking a liking to Wally out of three of them, no offense to Garth and Vic. Perhaps because Wally was the one who made sure to make her feel included that caused Amira to grow a soft spot for him. Whenever he would come over, Amira always made sure to have cookies ready for him.

She enjoyed the smile that would radiate off him, Amira always looking forward towards his next visit.

At school, Amira would go over to Dick's classroom to talk with Babs during lunch.

(That was Amira's name for her, although she didn't dare to call Barbara by that nickname. They weren't exactly close friends...yet.)

She adored talking to Babs about the latest pastry or about Babs' father's latest case. (Amira found it hilarious that their dads respected each other both in and out of work.)

It's been a solid month since she began merging into this new routine, Amira practically skipping as she made her way to see Babs. Just as she was about to make her way inside, she was quickly pulled back, Amira now face to face with a kid...her age? But one thing was for certain, she had seen him before...but where? Surely she would remember a kid that carried a portable camera-

Timothy Jackson Drake. The Drakes only son...only child.

The only reason she remembered him was due to the newspaper she found on the dining table her father left behind that morning. Something about his mother was the headline of the paper.

"You're Marinette, right?" He asked her, Amira wondering what he wanted with her. This was the first time both children ever spoke to each other.

"I am. Do I-"

"Name's Tim -Tim Drake- from the elementary wing, grade 5. Anyways, I've been wanting to ask you something. Where's Jason?" He asked, Amira feeling her heart drop. "I've noticed that-"

Amira knew that the boy kept talking about something, but she didn't know what exactly.

Jason's name just kept echoing within her head, Amira's head replaying the past month in her mind.

How did she forget about Jason? Why did she forget about Jason? How dare she forget him?!

"-Mimi! Mimi, please, listen to me!" Amira registered a voice, a voice she always heard. "Amira, please, talk to me!" It was big brother.

Amira looked at Dick, his eyes wide with panic, Amira registering the tears that dared to slip from him.

Without another word, Amira hugged him, her grasp on his school jacket tightening as her mind slipped back to Jason.

"I didn't mean to forget him! I didn't mean to! I swear!" Amira sobbed, hating that she was breaking down at school, hating that everyone saw her at her most vulnerable point. Hating herself for forgetting Jason. "He probably hates me for forgetting about him. He hates me..."

"It's alright Amira. It's alright." She heard Dick whisper to her, watching as the two left the school grounds. "He would never hate you Amira. He loved you too much to ever hate you." Dick reassured, rubbing circles on her back.

That was the last time Amira ever saw Gotham Academy.

——-

Ever since Amira broke down at school, she remained cooped up in her room, not letting anyone enter it, not even Alfred.

Dick had tried to coax her to come out by telling her that Wally had come over to talk to her, but Amira didn't budge.

Not until Bruce asked her to come to his study to talk.

"Did you want to speak to me, Father?" Amira asked, closing the door behind her.

She knew why she was there. She knew why her father called her to his study.

After all, it wasn't that easy to create a cover story of why Dick and Amira came home while school was still in session. It was especially hard when the school called Bruce, asking about the whereabouts of the two of them.

"Amira. Take a seat." Bruce said as he motioned to the open space in front of him. It's been a while since she had been at her father's study, noticing the new window seats. They weren't there the last time she stepped foot into his study. Then again, the last time she did was when...

Now that she thought about it, Amira couldn't help but look at her father.

Despite the dim lightning of the study, Amira could easily see the worn out features on her father. His eyes were shrouded in darkness, circles deeper than before, the bags under his eyes darker than ever.

The corners of his eyes were red and tired, her father's lips now forever in a frown.

How could she forget? How stupid was she to think that she was the only one suffering when clearly, her father was too? What about Dick then? Was he also-? And Alfred...

Amira shook the thought from her mind, deciding to pile up the cushions into a corner and taking a seat, letting her back lightly touch the pile. It was only then that she noticed her old Batman plushie.

"I thought...I thought this was thrown out." Amira said, picking up the old thing, the colors faded, Amira running her fingers over the stitched up arm.

"It was, until I asked Alfred if I could keep it." Bruce said, letting a sigh leave him. "Sometimes, it's hard to let go of the past." Amira remained silent, letting her head hang. So this is why he called her to his study.

Amira listened as her father drifted to his memories of when he ventured the world. Of how he met her mother. (That was the first time he actually talked about her to Amira. Sure, he would mention her mother's small quirks, but Father never told her stories about her.) Of how he met Amira...as an infant.

How Bruce kept making mistake after mistake, wanting to give up various times as he found himself lost. How he thought he wasn't enough to help raise Amira, that he wasn't fit for the job.

How he found his efforts finally being rewarded in the shape of Amira growing into the girl she was now. For Dick finally being able to flourish despite his parents' death. How Jason was able to have a better life once Bruce took him in.

"Where did I go wrong?" Bruce asked, looking out the window. "What did I do that caused-"

"You did nothing wrong." Amira reassured. "You did nothing wrong Dad. If anything, you always did your best to make sure we were fed, clothed...safe. We couldn't have asked for a better father."

Amira sat there in silence for what seemed like minutes before Bruce looked at her.

"But clearly, that wasn't enough." Bruce said, getting up from his seat. "I'm sending you to Paris."