Becoming Nightshade

Maggie's body stirred slightly on the medical table, her eyelids fluttering open. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the faces of Jason, Bruce, Dick, Alfred, and Constantine. Her expression was calm but guarded, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

"Mags?" Jason said softly, his grip tightening on her hand. "You're awake."

She blinked slowly, her gaze settling on Jason. "Yeah," she replied, her voice quiet but steady. "I'm here."

Jason exhaled sharply, relief washing over him as he smiled back at her. "You had us worried."

Maggie tilted her head slightly, her expression softening in what seemed like a genuine gesture. "Sorry to scare you. I… I feel like I've been through the wringer."

Bruce stepped forward, his keen eyes studying her. "You've been unconscious for hours. Do you remember anything?"

Her head faintly, her movements slow and deliberate. "Not much," she said, feigning uncertainty. "Just fragments. It's all hazy."

Dick leaned on the edge of the table, his concern evident. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Maggie hesitated for a moment, carefully choosing her words. "I remember being in Metropolis. I was scared… and then it's just… blank."

Jason squeezed her hand. "It's okay. You're safe now. That's what matters."

Constantine stood at the edge of the room, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he watched her. He took a slow drag from his cigarette but said nothing.

Alfred stepped forward with a glass of water. "Here, Miss Maggie. You'll need this to regain your strength."

Maggie accepted the glass with a faint smile. "Thanks, Alfred." She sipped it slowly.

Bruce exchanged a glance with Constantine, his voice calm but probing. "You've been through a lot, Maggie. Take your time to recover. But if anything feels… off, let us know."

Maggie nodded, her expression earnest. "I will. I promise."

Jason leaned closer, his voice low and full of relief. "Don't scare me like that again, okay?"

She looked at him, her eyes soft but unreadable. "I'll try not to."

Later in the Batcave

As the others dispersed, Jason stayed behind with Maggie, keeping close to her side. Bruce and Constantine stepped away to confer privately, their conversation low but intense.

"You seem suspicious," Bruce said, his tone measured. "Why?"

Constantine took a final drag of his cigarette, crushing it under his boot. "Something's… off. Can't put my finger on it, but the way she's acting, the way the shadows around her feel—it's different. Subtle, but it's there."

Bruce frowned, glancing back toward the medical bay. "You think Eclipso left a mark?"

Constantine shook his head. "No. This isn't him. It feels more… familiar. "

Back in the Medical Bay

Jason stood beside Maggie's medical bed, his worry evident despite the faint smile on his face. "You scared the hell out of me, Mags," he said softly, his voice tinged with relief. "But you're here now, and that's all that matters."

Maggie gave him a faint, reassuring smile as she leaned back against the pillows. "Thanks, Jason. For being here."

"Come on. Let's get you back upstairs. Alfred's got some soup waiting, and you'll sleep better in your own bed."

Maggie hesitated for a moment, her expression unreadable. But then she nodded, her voice steady. "Alright. I think I can manage that."

Jason helped her sit up, his hand steady on her back to support her. As she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, she winced slightly, feigning weakness from her injuries.

"Take it slow," Jason urged, his tone firm but gentle. He looped an arm around her waist, bearing most of her weight as she stood.

She leaned against him, her steps unsteady but deliberate. "I'm fine," Maggie said softly, "You don't have to hover."

Jason smirked faintly, his arm still secure around her. "Yeah, well, tough. Hovering is kind of my thing."

As they made their way out of the medical bay and toward the manor, Maggie glanced around, taking in the familiar surroundings of the Batcave with an expression of quiet curiosity. Jason's focus was entirely on her, unaware of the flicker of calculation that briefly crossed her face.

The climb up the stairs was slow, Jason adjusting his pace to match hers. "You're doing great," he said encouragingly, his voice softer now. "Just a little farther."

Maggie gave him another faint smile. "Thanks, Jay. You always know how to make things easier."

As they entered the manor, the warmth of the familiar space greeted them. Jason led her to her room, carefully helping her onto the bed and adjusting the pillows behind her.

"There you go," he said, stepping back slightly but staying close. "Comfy?"

Maggie nodded, her voice soft. "Yeah. Thanks, Jay."

He lingered by the edge of the bed, his eyes scanning her face. "You need anything? Water? A book?"

"I'm good," she replied."I just… need to rest."

Jason smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Okay. Get some sleep. I'll be downstairs if you need me."

Maggie watched him leave, her expression warm and tired until the door clicked shut. Then, her smile faded, replaced by a shadowy smirk that didn't belong to Maggie at all.

She leaned back against the pillows, her voice barely a whisper as she spoke to herself. "So trusting… this will be easier than I thought."

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Maggie, lay in bed, her posture relaxed as she stared out the window. Her body still bore the marks of her injuries, but the healing process had already begun, helped along by the shadows coursing through her.

The quiet was broken by a knock at the door. Before Lillyanna could respond, Bruce entered, his usual composed demeanor slightly faltering as he approached the bed.

"Maggie," he began, his tone calm but laced with an edge of discomfort. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit better," she said, her voice gentle. "Still sore, but I'll be fine."

Bruce nodded, stepping closer and pulling a chair to sit beside her bed. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, and then he sighed, the tension in his shoulders barely easing. "I owe you an apology."

Maggie tilted her head, feigning curiosity. "For what?"

"For what you overheard," Bruce said, his voice steady but heavy. "About Constantine and me discussing… using magic to make you talk."

Her expression shifted into a perfect mask of confusion mixed with hurt. "You were going to do that to me?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Bruce leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It wasn't a decision I made lightly. You've been keeping things from me, Maggie. Important things—things that could put you in danger. I was desperate to protect you."

Maggie looked away, feigning a mixture of disappointment and pain. "You didn't trust me to handle it on my own."

Bruce's jaw tightened. "It's not about trust. It's about safety. You're young, and whether you like it or not, there are forces at play here that you can't fully understand yet."

She turned back to him, her tone sharper. "Maybe I'd understand them better if you didn't keep things from me, too."

Bruce frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "This isn't about me. This is about you keeping something like Lillyanna—whatever she is—from me. If you're struggling, you need to come to me. Keeping it to yourself only puts you at greater risk."

"I didn't think you'd understand. And after what I overheard, how could I be sure you wouldn't just try to control me?"

Bruce's gaze softened, his tone lowering. "I'm your father, Maggie. Everything I do is to protect you. But you have to let me in. If we don't work together, we're vulnerable. And after what happened with…" His voice trailed off, and he shook his head slightly. "We can't afford any more secrets."

Maggie nodded slowly, as though considering his words. "Okay," she said finally, her voice soft but firm. "No more secrets."

Bruce's eyes searched hers, his expression unreadable. "Good. Because I need you to trust me as much as I trust you. We'll face whatever's coming together."

She gave him a faint smile, carefully hiding the dark amusement she felt inside.

Bruce stood, his usual composed demeanor returning as he adjusted his jacket. "Rest for now. "

As he turned and left the room, Maggie leaned back against the pillows, her smile fading into something far more sinister.

"No more secrets," she murmured to herself, her tone dripping with irony. "Let's see how long that lasts."

Jason stepped through the front door, still wearing his Gotham Prep blazer, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He tossed the bag onto the nearby bench in the entryway and paused, hearing the faint sound of the TV coming from the living room. His brow furrowed—it wasn't unusual for Alfred to have the news on, but the sound of laughter from a sitcom caught his attention.

Curious, Jason walked into the living room and stopped in his tracks. There was Maggie sitting cross-legged on the couch, a plate of half-eaten sandwiches on the coffee table in front of her, and a blanket draped over her legs. She was watching a rerun of a sitcom, chuckling softly at the punchlines.

Jason frowned, the sight striking him as odd. "Mags?" he said, stepping closer.

She looked up, her face lighting up with a smile that felt just a touch too perfect. "Hey, Jay. How was school?"

Jason tilted his head, eyeing her as he dropped onto the armrest of the couch. "Fine. What's going on with you? You're… watching TV? In the middle of the day?"

She shrugged, picking up a sandwich and taking a bite. "Yeah, I figured I'd take it easy. I'm still recovering, you know."

Jason's frown deepened. "Yeah, but you're usually glued to your textbooks, even when you're sick. You hate falling behind on your work."

Maggie waved her hand dismissively, her tone light. "I just needed a break. It's not the end of the world if I take a day off."

Jason leaned forward."You sure you're okay? This doesn't seem like you."

She turned back to the TV, her expression carefully neutral. "I'm fine. Stop worrying so much."

Jason studied her for a moment, his instincts tingling. Something about her felt… off. The way she was so nonchalant—it didn't feel like Maggie. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"You're sure?" he pressed, his tone softening. "Because if something's bothering you, you can talk to me."

She glanced at him, her smile returning, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm fine, really. Just trying to enjoy a quiet afternoon."

Jason nodded slowly, though his unease didn't fade. "Alright," he said, standing. "I'll leave you to it, but if you need anything…"

"I know where to find you," she finished with a playful smirk, turning back to the TV.

Jason walked out of the living room, glancing back over his shoulder at Maggie one last time. His unease didn't fade as he made his way through the hallway, heading toward the kitchen where he expected to find Alfred.

As he entered, the familiar aroma of fresh-brewed tea greeted him. Alfred stood at the counter, meticulously arranging a tray with biscuits and a teapot. Jason leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.

"Hey, Alfred," Jason started, his tone hesitant. "Can I ask you something?"

Without looking up, Alfred replied with his usual calm demeanor. "Of course, Master Jason. What's on your mind?"

Jason stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Have you noticed anything… different about Maggie?"

Alfred glanced up from the tray, his brow furrowing slightly. "Different in what way?"

Jason hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know. She just seems… off. Like, not herself. I mean, she's sitting on the couch watching TV and eating sandwiches. Maggie never just… takes it easy like that, even when she's hurt. She's always pushing herself to study or work on something."

Alfred's expression softened as he poured the tea. "It's not unusual for someone to behave differently after experiencing a traumatic event. Miss Maggie has been through quite an ordeal, as you well know. It's only natural for her to process it in her own way."

Jason frowned, his unease still lingering. "Yeah, but this feels like more than that. It's like she's not even trying to be herself."

Alfred carefully set the teapot down, his gaze steady. "Master Jason, people often react to trauma in ways we don't expect. Sometimes, they retreat, take a step back from their usual routines. It's a form of self-preservation."

Jason crossed his arms, leaning against the counter. "So, you think it's just her trying to process everything?"

Alfred nodded, his voice gentle but firm. "That would be my assumption. However, I do agree that she seems… different. But perhaps instead of questioning it, you might try simply being there for her. Miss Maggie has always valued your support."

Jason sighed, still unconvinced but willing to let it go—for now. "Yeah, you're probably right." He pushed off the counter, heading for the door. "Thanks, Alfred."

As Jason walked away, Alfred watched him thoughtfully, his calm exterior masking a flicker of concern. He picked up the tray and headed toward the living room, intending to keep a closer eye on Maggie.