Maggie paced nervously behind Barbara's couch, wringing her hands as Barbara read the note she'd written for Jason. Barbara sat with her legs crossed, the folded piece of paper held delicately in her hands, her face unreadable as her eyes moved across the words.
"Well?" Maggie asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.
"Should I rewrite it?"
Barbara glanced up, smirking.
"Calm down, Mags. It's sweet. Very… you."
Maggie stopped mid-step, frowning. "What does *that* mean?"
Barbara laughed, setting the note on the coffee table for a moment.
"It means it's honest, heartfelt, and maybe just a *tiny* bit dramatic. But in a good way," she added quickly when Maggie shot her a look.
"Jason's going to love it."
Maggie sighed, flopping onto the couch beside her.
"I just… I wanted to say something meaningful; you know? I feel like this is my chance to get it right."
Barbara reached over, squeezing Maggie's shoulder.
"You already got it right. Trust me."
Maggie gave her a small smile, then leaned forward to grab the note. She folded it carefully, slipping it into the small box with the necklace she'd picked out for Jason. Sitting cross-legged on the couch, she grabbed the wrapping paper she'd been struggling with and resumed her attempt to make the package look presentable.
"You know," Barbara said, watching her fumble with the tape, "there's an art to wrapping gifts. You want me to do it?"
"Nope," Maggie replied stubbornly, sticking a crooked piece of tape onto the paper.
Barbara chuckled, shaking her head as she stood to stretch.
"Suit yourself."
Just then, the doorbell rang, interrupting their conversation. Barbara glanced toward the door.
"Probably my dad with the pizza."
Maggie paused, scissors in hand, watching as Barbara headed to the door. The faint sounds of the city filtered in through the apartment, mingling with Maggie's anticipation as she tried to focus on finishing Jason's gift. The door swung open, and for a split second, Barbara froze. Standing on the other side, dressed in his trademark purple suit and grinning with unsettling glee, was the Joker.
"Well, hello, Babs," he said with a sinister chuckle.
Barbara's instincts kicked in, but before she could react, Joker's shots her point blank, striking her with a brutal force. She flew backward, crashing through the coffee table in front of the couch. The sound of splintering wood echoed through the apartment as Barbara landed hard, groaning in pain, blood starts pouring out of the wound. Maggie froze, the unfinished wrapping paper slipping from her fingers onto the couch. Her wide eyes locked on the scene before her, disbelief and fear paralyzing her as the Joker stepped into the apartment, his grin never faltering. Joker tilted his head, feigning concern as he twirled his gun.
"Oh, Babs, you've really let yourself go! Look at you—flat on your back, not even a witty comeback. Tsk, tsk."
He stepped over the wreckage, his green hair catching the dim light as his gaze shifted toward Maggie. His manic grin widened as he noticed her frozen in place, her unfinished wrapping paper still crumpled in her hands.
"Well, well," he said, pointing the gun at her.
"You're not supposed to be here. I'd find Commissioner Gordon's kid with him, but instead, I get… what? A lost little Wayne?" His eyes glinted with sinister glee. "What a twist."
Maggie's heart pounded in her chest. She dropped the wrapping paper and bolted toward the kitchen, her instincts screaming at her to get away. But before she could make it, another gunshot echoed through the room as a bullet went through her leg. She cried out, falling to the ground with a thud. The sharp pain radiating from her calf told her she wasn't getting up quickly.
"Oh no, no, no," Joker said, his voice sing-song. "Running away is *so* rude. Didn't your father teach you any manners?"
He began to approach, the room filling with his chilling laughter. Maggie's breaths came in ragged gasps as she crawled across the floor, her leg throbbing where Joker's bullet had hit her. The sharp sound of his shoes clicking against the floor sent chills down her spine. She clawed at the ground, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.
"Where do you think you're going?" Joker's voice rang out, cold and amused.
Before she could get far, he grabbed her by the neck and yanked her up with startling ease. Maggie yelped, her back slamming against the wall as the Joker's grip tightened around her neck. His manic grin loomed inches from her face.
"You're really starting to annoy me," he said, his tone shifting to an irritated growl. His knife slammed into her midsection, forcing the air from her lungs. "All I wanted was a simple little visit. But no, you have to *ruin* everything!"
Another stab landed, then another. Maggie's vision blurred from the pain, tears streaming down her face. Her mind screamed for help, for a way out, but none came. Until—
*Maggie...* A voice, soft and urgent, echoed in her mind. It wasn't her own. *Reach for the shadows. *
Her head lolled to the side, her eyes catching the faint dark shapes dancing on the wall beside her. The voice came again, louder this time, filled with certainty. *Reach for them. *
Her trembling hand lifted, almost involuntarily, and touched the shadow on the wall. She didn't know what she was doing, but all she could think, with every ounce of desperation, was: *Make him stop. Make him go away. *
The shadow shifted under her hand, pulsing like a living thing. Then, without warning, a dark tendril shot out from the wall, coiling and lashing toward the Joker. It struck him with a force that sent him flying backward, his manic laughter cut off by a surprised grunt. Maggie crumpled to the ground, as the shadow tentacle recoiled back into the wall, dissolving into darkness. She gasped for air, her body trembling from the multiple stab wounds. Across the room, Joker groaned as he pushed himself up from the ground, brushing off his suit with exaggerated annoyance. His unsettling grin returned as his gaze shifted back to Maggie, who was slumped against the wall.
"Well, well," he said, his tone light but menacing.
"You're full of surprises, aren't you? That little trick of yours just made things much more interesting."
He started toward her, Maggie's vision blurred as the room spun, and her breaths came in short, uneven gasps. Before Joker could reach her, the sound of heavy boots echoed from the hallway, followed by a commanding voice.
"Freeze! Don't move!"
Joker paused, his grin widening as he turned to face the newcomer. Commissioner Gordon stood in the doorway, his gun drawn and his expression steely.
"Step away from her, now."
Maggie's vision darkened as she slumped against the wall, her body refusing to respond. Commissioner Gordon's voice and the Joker's mocking laughter became muffled, like they were coming from far away. She tried to draw in a breath, but her chest felt heavy, her lungs unresponsive. Her pulse, which had been racing moments ago, slowed to a faint thrum, weaker and weaker with each passing second. A strange calm settled over her as the sensations faded, the world slipping further out of reach. The last thing she felt was her heart stuttering to a stop. Everything went silent, and then—nothing.
On the rooftops of Gotham, Nightwing and Robin moved in synchronized silence, their shadows blending seamlessly with the night. The city below buzzed with its usual chaos, but for Dick and Jason, it was another routine patrol.
"East Quadrant clear," Dick said into his comm, scanning the streets below with his binoculars.
"How's it looking on your end?"
Jason, perched on a gargoyle a few buildings away, replied.
"Nada. Just the usual drunks stumbling home and a couple of street kids tagging walls. Pretty quiet."
"Lucky us," Dick said, leaping to the next rooftop. He glanced over at Jason with a mischievous grin as they landed side by side.
"You must be counting the hours until patrol's over, though."
Jason raised an eyebrow, his tone cautious.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, come on," Dick said, his grin widening.
"Maggie's coming home tomorrow. You're not a little excited?"
Jason's ears reddened beneath his domino mask, and he turned his focus back to the streets below.
"What's there to be excited about? It's just Maggie coming back."
Dick chuckled, clearly enjoying himself.
"Sure, sure. 'Just Maggie.' The same Maggie you've been texting every night since she left. Totally casual."
"Shut up," Jason muttered, his voice sharp but lacking real heat.
"I was just checking in on her, making sure she was okay."
Dick crossed his arms, feigning deep thought.
"Uh-huh. And the hundredth text you sent? What was that, more 'checking in'?"
Jason groaned. "You're insufferable, you know that?"
"I do, and thank you," Dick replied with a wink.
"But seriously, it's cool to see you care so much. You should let her know."
Jason sighed, his gaze softening slightly.
"Maybe I already did, kinda, sorta."
Dick clapped him on the shoulder. "Atta boy."
Meanwhile, at Wayne Manor, Bruce sat in the study, a rare expression of quiet anticipation on his face. Alfred entered, carrying a silver tray with a cup of tea and a neatly folded napkin.
"Everything is ready, Master Wayne," Alfred said, setting the tray down on the desk.
"The decorations have been delivered, and the caterers confirmed for tomorrow."
Bruce nodded, glancing at the framed photo of Maggie on his desk. It had been taken during one of their rare quiet days, her smile lighting up the frame.
"Good. I want it to be perfect."
Alfred raised an eyebrow. "I dare say she'll be delighted to see the effort you've put in. It's not every day the stoic Bruce Wayne plans a party."
Bruce allowed himself a small smirk.
"She deserves it."
Bruce leaning back in his chair, Alfred quietly observing him as the preparations for Maggie's surprise welcome home celebration neared completion. Alfred quietly exited the study, his polished shoes barely making a sound on the hardwood floors. He paused for a moment in the dimly lit hallway, glancing toward the grandfather clock that concealed the entrance to the Batcave. The clock hadn't moved, nor had Bruce made any indication that he would be suiting up tonight.
"Taking the night off," Alfred murmured to himself, his brow furrowing.
It wasn't often that Bruce deviated from his rigorous patrol schedule, and while the thought of him resting for a night might have been a relief, it also complicated things. Maggie's surprise arrival depended on Bruce being out of the house. He pulled out his phone, dialing Barbara first. The line rang and rang, but no answer came. He ended the call and immediately tried Maggie. Again, there was no response. Alfred's grip on the phone tightened slightly, his usually composed demeanor faltering. Something about this silence felt wrong. Maggie was never one to ignore her phone, especially after their detailed planning for the surprise. Setting the phone down on the hallway table, Alfred's mind raced. He'd been through enough years with the Wayne family to trust his instincts, and right now, they were screaming at him.
"Something's amiss," he muttered, his gaze flickering toward the clock once more. Alfred standing in the quiet hallway, a rare unease settling over him as he contemplates what could have gone wrong.