𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐, jasonette

xxi. 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

(part three to star)

If there was one thing that the boys of Neverland were aware of, it was this: No one messed with Marinette's leather jacket.

Marinette made that very clear the first week she was there, and anyone who even touched it found themselves with a bruised jaw and a couple of knocked-out teeth in the span of ten seconds.

But apparently, Jason Todd—aka Peter Pan—didn't get the message. Ever since the Shadow brought her to Neverland—against her will, she might add—it was like it was Jason's personal goal to rile Marinette up as much as he could. He never missed an opportunity, poking at her subpar fighting skills—for now—jabs at her height, smirking like a bloody idiot all the while.

Really, if it wasn't for Tim warning her over and over again of Jason's ridiculous tendency to throw murderous tantrums, Marinette would have chopped off his crown jewels and then thrown him off the cliff with a smile on her face.

Tim, unlike most of the boys on this godforsaken island, was actually one of the bearable people Marinette enjoyed being around. Clearly, unlike most, he had a proper upbringing and knew what it meant to respect a lady.

Marinette's left hand had been permanently bruised for weeks because she was constantly punching those stupid lemmings that kept on heckling her. Eventually, they got the message, but that was only because she had taken drastic measures and thrown one of them into the mermaid lagoon.

At any rate, Marinette could safely say, that despite being Jason's right-hand man, Tim was her best friend on Neverland. Which also meant he was well aware of Marinette's love and fierce possessiveness of her leather jacket—her last memento of home, despite the fact that—from what he had gleaned—things weren't very smooth.

When Jason pushed Tim to go and check on Marinette while she was bathing, he was suspicious. At first, he thought it was because Jason thought Tim and Marinette were in love—which was ridiculous, by the way. Marinette was a lovely friend, but that was all she would ever be.

But then, as he made his way to the pond, Tim realised why Jason had that gleeful expression pasted across his face as he ushered Tim off.

Swearing loudly, Tim whirled around in the clearing, looking for Marinette's jacket. As expected, the jacket was nowhere to be found, no doubt burnt to ashes by Jason.

Tim assumed he had about twenty seconds to get away from the scene as he heard Marinette humming, and so he ran. He ran like never before—not even when he was running from pirates. While he was very secure in his position as Marinette's best friend and that she probably wouldn't be as mad to find him at the scene, Tim didn't particularly feel like testing that theory—he valued his testicles, thank you very much.

As he appeared in camp at the speed of light, Tim frantically searched for Jason, hoping to make things right before Marinette noticed, otherwise, heads were going to roll. Also, Tim didn't want to see his best friend die because of Jason's murderous tendencies, so there was that too.

"Todd," he panted, bending to grab his knees. "What did you do?"

Jason, who was currently helping some of the newer recruits with their bows and arrows, merely turned around, his usual—infuriating, Marinette would often say—smirk pasted across his face. "What's wrong, Timmy?" Jason asked, his delight at Tim's panic very much evident. "Something missing?"

Tim opened his mouth to answer in a way he only could—perks of being Jason's most loyal follower. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Immediately, his leader's eyes became darker, a certain aura of danger starting to cloud around him. "What did you say?"

"I asked you," Tim said, gritting his teeth in annoyance. "What are you playing at? She hasn't even done anything to you. Leave her alone."

"Why should I?" Jason challenged. "She's done more than enough to warrant being killed."

"And the fact that you haven't killed her yet proves that she's a game to you." Tim was very much familiar with Jason's love for games and his ability to get lost in them, being a bystander, watching them for centuries.

"So what if she is?" Jason asked his tone a bored drawl. "I'm the kind. I can do whatever I want."

And as much as Tim wanted to refute that, fight against it, he knew it would be no use. Jason cared very little about Tim's opinion—or anyone else's for that matter.

He was saved from having to answer when the chattering Lost Boys around them went silent, the majority of the camp hushing. Tim had a sinking feeling he knew what—or who—had caused that.

Marinette came stomping up to the pair of them, fury burning in her eyes. Where the hell was her jacket? It was one of the few things she actually wanted to keep—which idiot thought it would be a good idea to steal it?

She was vaguely aware of Tim backing away slowly—no doubt in a smart decision.

"What," Marinette hissed, jabbing Jason in the chest. "Did you do with my jacket?"

Jason merely smirked widely, something that seemed to infuriate her even more. "I'm sorry, pet," he said, emphasising the nickname. "I have no idea, whatsoever, what you're talking about. Isn't that right, Timmy?"

Marinette's best friend looked like a dear caught in headlights as they both turned to look at him. Clearing his throat loudly in the sudden silence of the camp, Tim didn't look at either of them as he stuttered out, "Leave me out of this."

Well. Points for self-preservation then.

Shooting him a displeased look, Jason turned away from his second in command and turned to Marinette. "At any rate, pet, I have no idea what happened to your leather jacket. Why do you even care so much about it? It's quite ugly if I do say so myself."

Rage. Black-out.

The next thing Marinette knew, Jason was clutching his cheek, blood pouring out of his nose and a dark, dark bruise blooming where she had struck him.

It felt like the entire camp was holding their breath as their leader slowly recovered.

Marinette felt the first tendrils of fear fluttering and winding themselves around her as Jason's eyes burned.

They burned with a fury that Marinette had never seen before, nor had she ever seen on anyone else.

Spitting out some blood on the ground next to Marinette's boots, Jason's glare burned a hole through Marinette. "Run," he whispered harshly, eyes blank and cold.

Marinette turned on her heel and ran.