Paris Monsieur in Gotham) [DISCONTINUED]

(Chapter 25)

Marcel stifled a yawn, rubbing his eyes which were gradually growing heavier by the minute. Beside him, the bags filled to the brim with all the materials he needed jostled slightly as the limo went over a bump in the road.

“Master Marcel, pardon me but if you’re already exhausted, I must insist you get some much-needed rest. Your health takes first priority.” Alfred said from the driver’s seat.

“’M fine.” He muttered.

“If I had a nickel for every time I heard that, I would amass a fortune rivalling Master Bruce’s.” Alfred replied dryly.

Marcel looked out the window. Truth be told, the only thing keeping him going was stubbornness and the lingering effects of the special 'energy drink' he made, the latter of which was wearing off.

Although he was considered a prodigy of sorts in the Art of Healing- what with his natural affinity combined with the progress he's accomplished in such a short amount of time compared to the other Guardians- he was far from immune to any backlashes. That meant going as far to bringing a person back from the brink of death was a surefire way of pushing himself to pure fatigue, prodigy or not.

“I appreciate the concern but really, I’m fine. Once I start to work I’ll be back on my feet.” Marcel reassured him.

Alfred sigh. Stubbornness. No doubt Marcel would fit right in with the rest of the boys.

“Very well then. I shall take your word for it.” He said and thankfully left it at that.

“Oh yeah.” Marcel said, straightening as he remembered something. “I wanna return this.”

Rummaging through his pocket, he pulled out the cheque Bruce had given to him before this endeavour. Said cheques had so many zeroes on it, his soul nearly left his body the moment he laid eyes on it.

“About that.” Alfred stopped at a red light. “Master Bruce has insisted you keep the change.”

“WHAT?!” Marcel squeaked, his voice rising a pitch. “Bu-this-I-I can’t!”

“Unfortunately, that is not my decision to make.” The butler shrugged, uncaring. “I am simply the messenger.”

Marcel slumped back in his seat, too tired to argue. He already did enough haggling back at the fabric store.

And he knew how to pick his battles.

Alfred nodded in satisfaction when he saw the boy philosophically accept his rebuke.

There’s no doubt about it, he would fit in with the boys.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Welcome ba- do you need help with that?” Dahlia deadpanned when she saw her boyfriend try to carry the entire load himself.

“Wha-no, no! I can manage!” Marcel said, giving her a smile as he tried to manoeuvre past her.

“Angel, we may be your clients but that’s all the more reason we must show mutual cooperation and that includes helping you with simple tasks such as carrying your load.” Dahlia chided as she snatched a bag out of his hand before he could protest.

Gods and above, he was an idiot that put too much burden on himself.

He was her idiot but still, that made it all the more inexcusable.

“Thanks.” Marcel said as she helped him place it in the room.

“Don’t mention it.” She said.