Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She had been running for hours it seemed, having long since abandoned trying to yo-yo away. He was quick to hit it off course. The miracle box held tightly against her chest was cumbersome at best, heavy and dangerous at worst. She just needed to get out of sight, then she would transform and shove the box in her bag, that’s all she had to do.

“You’re mine, Ladybug!” He yelled from behind her, “I’ve held myself back so long, but now we’re free! Hawkmoth is defeated, the Guardian is dead, why do you need to hide your identity from me~!”

“Stay away!” She screamed, vaulting away, trying to ignore the sharp pain on her thigh as he hit her with his beaustaff, again. 

I’m never going to get away, she thought as she flew through the air. She scrambled for one of the draws and wrenched it open, knowing full well it was the Horse Miraculous. Kaalki appeared before her.

“Do you neigh-ed help, my Guardian?”

“Yes,” She begged, tears rolling down her face and fear constricting her lungs, “I beg of you! Anywhere safe from Chat Noir!”

Kaalki frowned but gave a curt nod as a portal formed, dark and brooding, in the trajectory of Ladybug.

“No!” Chat Noir screeched, leaping forward to try and stop her.

Ladybug closed her eyes and let herself fall, leaving Paris behind with a sharp pain across her cheek and her hair half-undone.

Chat Noir barrel-rolled onto the roof of the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery, unaware of its importance, a red ribbon held in his hands as her blood dripped from his claws, “I’ll find you Ladybug,” He vowed, “Even if I have to tear this city apart to do it.”

Across the Atlantic Ocean, a warehouse stood, it’s door broken. Two women moving within, one seated elegantly on a large flower, and the other swinging on nearby growing plants and up to the support beams, then dropping down to be caught by another large plant.

“Harley,” The more elegant woman scolded, “We haven’t the time for games,” Though her amused smile suggested she quite enjoyed Harley’s antics.

“Oh come on, Red!” Harley beamed, “I’m just having a li’le fun!”

“Come on, yourself,” Red replied matter-of-factly, “You know we’re on a mission-”

She was cut off by a loud crashing sound and groaning. The two women looked to one another, Red raised her hand and the plant Harley resided on began to rise and move forward quickly. You got it, Ivy, she almost said as a crazed smile and determined glare stained her face, sleep-er soaker in hand.

She peeked around a corner to find a young girl, who looked no older than fifteen, battered and bruised with her hair pulled out and a cut across her cheek. She was shoving a red and black hexagonal box into her bag, with tears running down her cheeks. Once the box was secure, she pulled her pink bag to her chest and began to weep into it.

Harley frowned at the interaction and was only more stunned when a tiny red creature appeared from the girl’s hip and began to comfort her, “Marinette, please. We need to get to safety. We don’t know where we are, and he could very well be just around the corner.”

“Master Fu is dead, Tikki!” The girl wailed, ignoring Tikki’s words, “Dead by Chat Noir’s hand! He was my friend, he was my partner! How could he do that?! How could he kill our mentor?” She sobbed into her bag, “He was so sweet. Flirty, distracted, obsessive maybe… but never a killer!”

Ivy stepped forward now, having heard Marinette’s cries. Harley had slumped into her flower, a hand to her mouth, relating this mystery boy to her own hardships with the Joker.

“You’re safe now,” Ivy spoke, sending Marinette and her bag sprawling in clumsy fright. Ivy lowered herself to the ground and crouched in front of Marinette, “No one is going to hurt you, not while I’m here sweetheart.”

Initially, Marinette was horrified by Ivy’s presence. Did she see Tikki? Does she know I’m Ladybug? But those fears melted away by Ivy’s words. She was safe? This beautiful woman with a gorgeous dress and the most vibrant red hair, was going to protect her? It was a lot to take in, and the adrenaline was leaving her to be replaced with grief and relief. Marinette sprung forward and clung to Ivy for dear life, weeping hard into her shoulder. The woman didn’t even flinch.

Eventually, Harley showed up too, and when Marinette pulled away to thank Ivy but turn her down, she was confronted by a sweet, kind of sadistic looking, clown-woman with a Boston accent who was quick to voice her support as well. 

“So, chick-a-dee, what happened?” Harley asked finally.

That was enough to crack Marinette’s walls. 

“Before we start, where in Paris are we?” She asked, a soft smile, “I don't recognise this warehouse. If you tell me where I am, I’ll be sure to find my way back home!”

“Paris,” The two super-villains repeated.

“Oh no sweetie,” Harley replied, having recovered quicker, “You’re in Gotham.”

“Gotham?” She repeated, her eyes wide in alarm, “I-I’m not familiar with that suburb… Pouvez-vous me ramener à la maison?”

Neither woman knew French, but Ivy decided to correct her English statement, “It’s not a suburb, it’s a city. In America.”

Marinette’s tears began renewed, “America?”

Harley nodded softly, “Yes, sweetheart, America.”

She leaned forward, her tears falling into her lap, “I’m going to be sick.”

Harley’s eyes widened in alarm, and Ivy was quick to form a kind of sick-bag from a large succulent. She handed it over, and true to her word Marinette threw up.

When she was down she gripped the top of the bag hard and wiped her mouth, tears continuing to stream down her face.

“How did you get here, dumpling?” Harley asked softly.

Marinette’s whole body shook, “I-I…” She bit her lip and looked away, as though guilty.

Harley smiled sympathetically, “If it was to do with that li’le red sprite you had before, we’ll be sure not to judge.”

Marinette looked up, horrified, before she collapsed in on herself, “I’m the guardian for ten minutes, and I’ve already failed at the most important job! I told you, Tikki!”

Tikki slowly appeared, sympathetic to her charge, “You have not failed, Marinette. Many Guardians before you have revealed the secrets of the miraculous to those who should never have known. They are typically the first people to be trained by a Guardian.”

Marinette nodded, slowly, a little less disheartened. Ivy was fuming.

“What do you mean ‘Guardian’?” Ivy asked sharply, “That sounds like something far too serious for such a young girl.”

Tikki looked over, her gaze mournful, “The only other person capable of taking this charge is dead. There is no other choice.”

“No other choice?!” Ivy screeched in alarm, “Of course there’s another choice! Choose an adult for starters-!”

“They did,” Marinette and Tikki replied in unison.

The young girl looked up to Ivy, “I watched him die. Killed by the man-no, boy I trusted. He was my partner, my other half. We were unstoppable, no Akuma could best us,” She looked away, “And then Hawkmoth was finally defeated. When we saw him, behind the mask... Gabriel Agreste. It must’ve… it must’ve changed something then. He was silent, for hours afterwards. He didn’t say a word. Until-until the Guardian said I would take over his work. Then he said something. He said-he said!”

Tikki looked away, scornfully, “Cataclysm.”

“What’s that?” Harley asked, frowning.

“His special power,” Tikki provided, “He can destroy anything he touches. He hit the Guardian. There was no saving him.”

“We had to run,” Marinette continued, “I had to getaway. I knew he liked me, in… in that way, and he never seemed to take no as an answer. I’m not sure what he’d be capable of if he’s trying to… to get me to be with him.” 

Harley encompassed Marinette in a tight hug, “I know the feeling, Doll.” She looked to Ivy, “We’re going to help her, right?”

Ivy nodded sharply, “Of course we are. Now, how to get to Paris-”

“No!” Tikki and Marinette cried out.

“We can’t go back there, not while Chat Noir is looking for me,” Marinette explained, “He knows me too well, he’d figure out who I was near instantly. He’s probably deduced it already with my disappearance!”

Ivy nodded sagely, “Very well. Your options now are to go to a Youth Hostel, be with kids your own age,” Harley stuck her tongue out in disgust, “Or, you can come live with us, until you want to leave.”

“I…” Marinette thought a moment, “Could I stay with you?” She looked to Tikki, “It just feels like I have too many secrets to be in such a public place? And you already know, but if it’s any trouble-”

“No trouble, darlin’,” Harley replied, beaming, “Ivy, you wanna handle this job while I take Mari-bug home, or vice-a-versa?”

Ivy smiled, “I got this, you get her to safety, and don’t forget her bag. You better head off quick though, the Bat’s sure to show up at some point or another.”

Harley nodded, standing up and hoisting Marinette up as she went. She picked up Marinette’s bag and handed it to the shivering girl, before taking her hand and beginning to walk out. Just as they got to the doors another crash and the sounds of a fight could be heard from behind them. Marinette turned, seeing a figure draped in black toss Ivy across the room.

“No,” She whispered, “He’s here?! How?!”

Harley snapped back, before sighing in relief, “No, no, Darlin’. That’s Batman, and he means no harm to us. Hell, I don’t think he’s got a murdering bone in his body.”

Marinette looked to Harley, uncertain, “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely, I’d know that cape anywhere.” She turned back to where she was going.

They walked down a block or so, before Harley stopped.

“Is something wrong?” Marinette asked, worried.

Harley looked up to the rooftops opposite them, “Try me,” She said quietly, but animatedly, certain he could read her lips, “You know the deal we have about struggling homeless girls, Batsy.”

Marinette frowned, following Harley gaze. Her free hand slapped across her mouth to suppress her shriek of panic at the black-draped figure. She pressed herself to Harley’s side, shaking, “Is that-Is that Batman?”

Harley nodded, “Yeah, that’s the Bat.”

Marinette slumped forward, sighing in relief. Then she turned to the figure, waving in greeting, “Salut!”

The bat-themed figure slowly stood to his full height. He stared for a moment longer, before pulling out a strange contraption. Marinette didn’t get enough time to decipher what it was before he was rushing through the sky on a wire. It reminded her of being ladybug, and yo-yo-ing away.

Harley nodded curtly, and turned down a back alley, and stopped at a fire escape, “Just wait here a moment, sweetcheeks.”

Marinette nodded, letting go of Harley’s hand to watch the colourful woman run at the opposite wall to the fire-escape, and with the momentum flipped up onto the bottom of the fire escape. Marinette stared, shocked, as the ladder was lowered. She didn’t think she could do that unless she was ladybug or on a gymnastic mat. 

“That was amazing,” She praised as she joined Harley on the fire escape.

The woman smiled brightly, “Glad you think so, Darlin’,” She pulled up the fire escape, “Now, to get back home!”

Marinette nodded, and they began to climb. Eventually, they stopped four floors from the ground. Harley pulled a key from her hair and unlocked the large window that led into the living room Marinette climbed in after Harley and began to spin, admiring the lovely little apartment. 

The living room was packed with plants rising all the way up the walls, with additional potted ground plants. Right of the window was a classic therapist leather couch, which across the room from a very nice looking TV. 

To the right of the couch was a table with boxes underneath, and a large map on top. To left of the couch was an archway leading to the kitchen, which Ivy sat at with a cup of tea and a first-aid kit as she bandaged her wrist. On the opposite wall to the archway was another doorway, mirrored in design to the kitchen entrance, this led to a hallway which in turn led to the bathroom and two bedrooms of the apartment. There was a splattered-paint design on the hardwood floor throughout the visible spaces of the apartment.

“This is so cute!” Marinette exclaimed, “I love it!”

Harley smiled brightly, “Glad you like it, Darlin’,” She made her way to the kitchen, “You doing alright, Red?”

Marinette hovered by the doorway as Ivy replied, “Yeah, sprained my wrist on the way out. It’ll be alright,” She paused to look over to a lost-looking Marinette, “Second door down the hall can be your bedroom. If you need clothes, there’s plenty in our wardrobe, third door.”

“Ah, merci-er I mean, thank you.” 

Marinette made her way down the hall, entering the second door as Ivy said. Inside was a lovely little room with a single bed, green walls with leaf prints scattered across them, the floors were paint-splattered again but with more resemblance to flowers than outside. There was a white wardrobe with intricate patterns etched into it, and a dresser of the same design. The bed had a black frame, and lilac coloured sheets and duvet. 

Marinette placed her bag down softly on the bed. She kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed. Tikki flew out of her purse and looked to her charge meaningfully.

“I should tell them,” Tikki said softly, “They need to know everything.”

“Kaalki already knew,” Marinette whispered softly, “Do they all?”

“They will know you are the Guardian,” Tikki provided, “Kaalki would’ve told them you were running from Chat Noir, but they won’t know much else. Wayzz won’t know much else.”

“I-I want to talk to him,” Marinette whispered, “He deserves to hear it from me.”

Tikki nodded and sat still as Marinette pulled out the box. She unlatched the lock and opened the top, pushing aside the tablet holding the now entirely translated Miraculous Grimoire, to retrieve the Turtle bracelet before closing the box. As Wayzz materialised, Tikki dove into the box.

“Marinette!” Wayzz greeted happily, before looking around with a frown, “Where are we? Kaalki refuses to tell us in the miracle-is something wrong?”

“We’re in Gotham,” Marinette provided, looking down guiltily, “And yes, something is wrong.”

“Gotham? That is very far from Paris. Are you sure? Is it safe here? You can ask Kaalki to take you back to Paris? I’m sure she was just playing a trick.

“No trick,” Marinette replied, “I am in the safest possible place I can be at the moment.”

“How so?”

“Wayzz,” She said softly, looking up to him with tears flowing, “He’s gone.”

“Who?” Wayzz asked with a frown, “I’m sure we could get him back-”

“Master Fu,” She replied, her lip quivering, “Master Fu, he… Chat Noir he-he!”

“Marinette, I don’t understand?”

“He was murdered, Wayzz,” Marinette nearly wailed, “He was struck down by Chat Noir, and Tikki has said many times Chat had to be careful with cataclysm! She cannot undo the damage it does to a person directly!”

Wayzz just stared, his eyes shimmering. He was silent as Marinette sobbed, and didn’t so much as move until she had calmed. When her attention was solely on him, he spoke.

“We will miss him, and we will remember his time. That is all we can do for him now, Marinette, there is no use in being angry at yourself, or mourning his loss of life.” He winced at Marinette’s horrified expression, “What I mean is… he led a long upstanding life. He taught much, he learned more, and he lived. He was human, he was flawed, he was important to us both, but now he is gone. All we can do now is try and learn from what his life left behind, and we can move forward.”

“I don’t know if I can,” She whispered, tears streaming down her face.

Wayzz blinked in surprise, remembering a boy nearly two centuries before, cradling the Miracle Box as he wept for the loss of his very way of life. The kwami smiled, “You can learn to, Marinette. You can learn to grow from it, but you don’t have to forget it.”

She smiled softly, weakly, “Thank you, Wayzz.”

“You’re welcome, Marinette.”

Chapter Text

Marinette sighed as she walked up the steps to her new school. Gotham Academy.

It reminded her of College Dupont-François though darker and more American, but just the thought of her old school made her feel sick. 

What if Chat Noir hurt her friends? Alya, Nino, Adrien… they were all in danger, and she was powerless to save them.

She couldn’t think about that right now. Her Aunties (what they insisted she refer to them as) had given her a new opportunity, a new life, hell a new name! 

They were even kind enough to pull together the admission fee, as well as the cost of her uniform, despite her best efforts not to let them do that. 

She was grateful though, how could she not be? They were the best thing that happened to her since… well, they were just a pair of blessings. She couldn’t waste the opportunity they were giving her.

She was doubly grateful, however, to whatever mystical being that allowed her to keep her old school supplies, which she could probably consider to be Tikki. She hadn’t needed to replace her school books, tablet, or design sketchbook, as they had been in the backpack she had been wearing before transforming.

She looked to her blazer idly. It was odd, being stuck to an outfit she had no say in, as a designer it was off-putting. She sighed, and reminded herself that this was a private school everything about it was sure to be new and strange, and most definitely out of her comfort zone. 

She did like the secret pocket within the blazer’s pocket lining, and had taken the liberty to add one such pocket to all of her jackets after discovering it. It was large enough to house everything she needed for the day, including Tikki, which meant she had no need for an additional bag unless she was bringing lunch to school.

Her aunties had given her money for the cafeteria today specifically so she didn’t have to drag her lunch around awkwardly on her first day. Plus they were still getting used to being her primary caretakers. She didn’t blame them, though she would’ve liked a home-cooked meal.

That might’ve just made me more homesick though , she sighed. There was no winning against that, it seemed.

Her attention drifted back to the doors of Gotham Academy. Everything was changing, and Marinette wasn’t sure she could handle it. She wanted to curl into a ball and cry. She wanted to race back to the apartment and beg Kaalki to take her back home to her parents.

That wasn’t an option though.

To distract from the growing unrest in her stomach, she pulled her phone out. The crack which had been made by her fall into Gotham had been mended by her dear, sweet, cookie loving, Tikki weeks ago. 

She opened her photos quickly, scanning through the screenshots of pictures.

She had learned there were heroes in Gotham too on her first night, but the extent of that statement hadn’t reached her until recently when she set out to learn about them. They were so different compared to how she and Chat had been. 

They didn’t have magical gems to power their search for justice, for starters, and there was so many of them Marinette almost lost count… but now that she really thought about it, they were otherwise pretty similar. 

They had to fight the same or similar villains repeatedly and at inconvenient times. They had a well-known member draped in black and the other adorned in red. They were adored by the public. Authority figures whether they liked it or not… She could sympathise.

She had initially decided to familiarise herself with the superheroes of Gotham in case she found herself a friend as obsessed with their local heroes as Alya, but that seemed silly now. 

How was she ever going to find anyone like Alya? Like any of her friends in Paris? She wouldn’t. They were unique and so very important to her, she could never replace them. 

 She returned her phone to her blazer pocket and took another beat, her nerves settling deeper into her bones.

“Marinette,” Came a gentle voice from her collar, Tikki smiled up at her chosen, “I believe in you.”

Marinette smiled, silently wishing Tikki wasn’t stuck in her blazer, and instead had her own space on Marinette’s person. Of course, this wasn’t possible, neither the school uniform policy nor Tikki had allowed that. 

“What if you’re recognised?” Tikki had pointed out that morning when Marinette was debating bringing her purse. Now the poor little god was stuck in her blazer, resorting to comfort her chosen from the collar.

Marinette swallowed her guilt to reply, though it probably looked like she was swallowing her nerves to Tikki, “Thanks Tikki. Just… pumping myself up.”

Tikki nodded sagely, “Best go inside,” A teasing glint took over her gaze, “You don’t want your late streak to carry over here, do you?”

Marinette groaned, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated manner. She had somehow managed, for three years, to be late to school every single day. It felt miraculous in design, if not frustrating to every degree.

Now she was determined, she made her way up the stairs and in through the doors. 

It was packed to near bursting, Marinette was about to ask the way to the main office when a shrill bell sounded. Comically the halls emptied, leaving Marinette a whirlwind of confusion. 

“How do I get to class now?” She asked no one in particular.

“Ahem,” Someone coughed behind her.

Marinette spun in alarm, tripping over her own feet in the process, sending herself sprawling to the ground in an embarrassing heap. She sat up with a groan, rubbing her head when a hand came into vision. 

Her gaze followed its trajectory to find a boy offering her his assistance, mouth turned down in nearly a scowl, but his eyes showed some amount of concern. She took his hand and he hoisted her up easily.

“Marinette Quinson, correct?” He asked.

“Oui!” She replied a little too quickly, “Yes, yes, that is me.”

“Damian,” He introduced, shaking his hand which was still holding hers before releasing his grip, “I’m supposed to be showing you around, as we have… all the same subjects.”

“Do we?” She asked in surprise, “I didn’t mean to...” At his perfectly raised eyebrow, she quickly went to amend, “What I mean is, it wasn’t intentional! I have no idea how that happened and-”

“It doesn’t really matter,” He cut in, looking slightly agitated, “Come on. I have to show you the school or whatever.”

She nodded, frowning as she followed him, “Are you alright?” She asked, “You seem… upset?”

“What would I have to be upset about?” He snapped, though it didn’t feel like he was snapping at her necessarily...

She blinked in surprise, looking away, “Well, for starters, you got stuck showing me around. Otherwise, I have no idea.”

He blinked in surprise, looking away with a fleeting guilty expression, “I’m not upset,” He said, though it had a clear-cut tone, rather than one of comfort, “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“No,” She nearly snapped back, looking up at him with a scrutinising gaze, “That’s definitely not just it. There’s something else annoying you.”

“There’s nothing else.”

She smirked, “Denial, interesting.”

He looked at her in offense, “I’m not denying anything!”

“That’s what they all say,” She countered.

He turned away with a huff. They walked in uncomfortable silence for a moment before he spoke up again, “It’s nothing to do with you.”

“But it’s something.”

He groaned, “Can you stop?”

She paused, “No, actually. Because what if you-” Her eyes widened, and she looked away contemplatively.

“What if I?”

“Well,” She began, “I was going to say ‘what if you get akumatized’, but that’s irrelevant. This is Gotham, and Hawkmoth is defeated…”

He turned, alarmed, “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

She looked up at him, clearly shocked by his tone, then she looked away again, “I’m from Paris,” She supplied, “That was probably obvious… But in Paris, there was this villain. He was defeated recently but his rampage was like, three years long.”

“A supervillain?” He asked, gaze firmly on the way they were going, calculating.

“You could say that,” She replied, “He could control people if their emotions were really hostile, and then he’d give them superpowers and heightened emotions. Then they would fight Paris’ heroes, be beaten, and return home.”

“I see.”

“We just kind of got used to caring about people,” Marinette provided, “Trying to keep the Akuma rate down for the heroes…” She smiled up at him, “Old habits die hard?”

He looked at her with a curious expression she couldn’t decipher, before he nodded, “Alright.”

“So,” She said softly, “Want to tell me what’s really wrong?”

He groaned, a hand flying to cover his face in exasperation, “Ugh, fine. I stayed up all night fighting with my Father, are you happy now?”

“Not particularly,” She replied, “But my curiosity is satisfied so I won’t bother you. Was it a bad fight?”

“You just said you wouldn’t bother me.”

“Being compassionate isn’t a bother.” She replied.

He looked over to her, clearly surprised by their easy banter. Or perhaps how unaffected she seemed by his temper. The sour expression, that sort of resembled a scowl, returned as he looked away, but Marinette was beginning to suspect that was just his face.

“He’s just being overprotective as usual.”

“Only child?” Marinette guessed.

He shook his head, “Youngest of a shit-ton,” He looked weary at the mere thought of his siblings.

“Shit-ton,” she noted, “That’s an interesting metric. What’s the nearest estimate do you think?”

“Three older brothers, plus one Babs.”

“That’s rough,” Marinette noted, blinking in surprise, “Are they all out of the house?”

“Two are,” He replied, “The rest come and go as they please. Actually no, all of them come and go as they please.”

“Must be hard,” She said empathetically, “Being in such a busy household…”

“Not really,” He replied, “Drake’s a pain, and so’s Todd, I’m more relieved they’re not always around. Grayson is tolerable, but too much most of the time. Babs is the genius child, and family friend who’s practically adopted at this point.”

“Drake, Todd and Grayson,” She noted, “Interesting names your father chose.”

“They’re adopted,” He replied, “Dick Grayson, Jason Todd and Tim Drake.”

“Ah, so you’re only on last name basis?”

“Oh no,” He replied, “They never refer to me by my last name,” Why am I telling her this?

She frowned, “What do they call you?”

“Demon Spawn mostly,” He paused, “But that’s just a nickname.”

“So, does your dad get called ‘demon’?”

He snorted, shaking his head, “They haven’t the guts to say it or the brains to come up with that.” He was smiling absently, amused by the mere idea of Bruce hearing such a nickname, “I’ll be sure to tell them though. God, father’s face!”

Marinette didn’t really understand what he meant, but smiled brightly anyway. 

He seemed happier now, and that’s what mattered to her.

Chapter Text

It was a strange day for Damian Wayne. 

For starters, it seemed to pass so much faster than usual. Of course, time was relative, but it was still strange. 

School always seemed to drag on for him, and though that seemed a common experience for students (if his involuntary eavesdropping was anything to go by) it seemed longer for Damian somehow.

He always wanted to be somewhere else, despite how much he enjoyed the content of the day. This feeling he believed to be unrest, that he wanted to run headlong into a foe, not French verbs. Though, this didn’t seem right either. His brothers seemed to relate to the notion, but their restlessness was different from his. 

They wanted to drop kick Joker or wreck Penguin. Damian just needed to be somewhere else, but he could never pinpoint where that somewhere was, so he substituted it for Joker and the like. Because of this, there always seemed to be this itch under his skin, a need to leave. He fought against it for the most part, typically with the distraction of fighting bad guys. 

With Marinette in all of his classes, suddenly being in the wrong place felt right. He didn’t need to kick bad-guy butt, cause he was kicking Calculus to the curb. She made him laugh, and forget his worries (to a reasonable degree. Damian was more relaxed than usual, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t alert). 

She was smart too, always a bonus. She wasn’t obnoxious or annoying about it, and she certainly didn’t believe herself to be smarter than him, but her intelligence was an undeniable fact. The first show of this had to be that she was on top of all of their subjects, which could’ve been attributed to french tuition having a different syllabus, but there was also some weird vibe Damian got from her. It felt like she knew so much more than she let on.

Maybe that was it, he didn’t have time to want to be somewhere else when he was trying to figure her out. She was an enigma, that he simply couldn’t crack. 

Then again, that wasn’t quite it either. The reason she was on his mind was that she was, to put it bluntly, annoying.

She was persistently by his side, refusing to sit anywhere but next to him at all times. And she was quick to answer questions posed by the teachers before he’d made a break to answer it. He didn't have to time to even think about much else, because she was always there. 

She was also suspicious. Somehow, someway, she got Damian to talk about his… urgh, feelings.

She’d seen he was irate this morning and somehow got him to open up instead of snap. That was too miraculous for Damian’s head to wrap around. 

She was strange, and he was strange to let her be anywhere near him. He should’ve -read: normally would’ve- tossed her to some other unfortunate student by now. Yet, somehow, someway, she had stuck to his side through the whole day, even through lunch! He could shake a bounty hunter off of his tail as Robin, but somehow this girl just wouldn't let up! 

Even stranger, he should’ve -read: normally would’ve- been irate about that, and the itch should’ve been the worst it’s ever been, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t bad because it wasn’t there . 

“... in Paris there was this villain. He was defeated recently but his rampage was like, three years long.”

“A supervillain?”  

“You could say that. He could control people if their emotions were really hostile...”

He shot up, and looked around himself panicked. He was in the Bentley, Alfred at the wheel. He gave Damian a raised eyebrow through the rear-view mirror but otherwise said nothing.

Damian had to have that… that power affecting him. That would explain it. He had had hostile emotions, and then he’d been acting strange, and strange was never good in Gotham. 

Maybe Marinette was actually Hawkmoth? Maybe she’d escaped the heroes of Paris and was going to rampage through Gotham now. With that power set… She’d be unstoppable.

“Fuck,” He hissed angrily, the itch returning with a vengeance, and his mind a panicked blur.

“Language,” Alfred scolded.

“I have to get home,” He hissed, “I think I’ve been… possessed.”

Alfred response was to fix Damian with a frown, but he sped up anyway.

Instead of taking the Bentley the normal route, Alfred opted to take it directly to the Batcave through the batmobile entrance. 

Before the car had even stopped he jumped out, with a barrel roll, and ran straight for the examination chamber.

“Whoa,” Selena, who had been sharpening the claws on her gloves, called, “What’s gotten into you?”

“An akuma, maybe!” Damian called back.

Barbara spun her wheelchair around, “What?” 

Damian pulled the door shut with a loud ‘clank’ and stared out at his kind-of sister.

They looked at each other, then Selena stepped forward and peered at Damian through the glass, “What are you talking about, Damian?”

“You need to do some tests,” He insisted, “It could be contagious. I don’t know the details.”

“What do you know, master Damian?” 

He looked over at Alfred, who had made his way over to the glass chamber now, “There’s a supervillain from Paris called Hawkmoth who can manipulate people when their emotions are hostile. They can then become very dangerous. I met a girl today-”

“Ah,” Alfred interrupted, looking to Selena, “It’s about a girl.”

Selena nodded, “Yes, that explains it.”

Barbara ignored them and began tapping away at the master computer, researching this ‘hawkmoth’.

“It’s not about her!” Damian snapped, “Well, it might be… I suspect she’s hawkmoth and she’d manipulating me through this ‘akuma’... or I’m the akuma now? It’s unclear.”

Selena stepped forward, “Why do you think this?”

“Because I was,” He gagged, “Nice to her.”

Selena and Alfred gave one another a knowing look.

Damian glared, “You don’t understand. I was actually enjoying school! I didn’t think about crime once today, and I was acting weird all day. And she’s weird too, she’s really good at figuring out people’s emotions, a good trait for someone who feeds off of them for their evil plans.”

Selena burst out laughing, “O-oh sweetie! That’s not a great master plan!”

Barbara turned, grinning in amusement too, “You’re in love!” She called in a sing-song tone.

He blinked in surprise, before scowling, “We live in a city filled with villains, where any strange behaviour could be mind manipulation or literal death, and you want to blow this over? It could be an epidemic!”

As the others were silent, Barbara clicked on the keypad without looking, which brought up an article about Hawkmoth, who had been revealed to be Gabriel Agreste and was in jail as of now. 

Damian looked over at it, before looking away, “Well, maybe he has a daughter who has his powers too.”

Barbara clicked at the keypad again and it brought up a picture of Gabriel Agreste and his wife and son, “He doesn’t have a daughter. What did this girl look like?”

“She was short, and had shoulder-length hair, the tips were dyed red but her natural colour was black. Her eyes were blue and I’m almost certain she has Asian heritage.”

“So nothing like this man and his family?” Barbara asked, though it was clearly not a question.

Damian paused, looking over at the image, before relenting, “No.”

Barbara nodded and then pulled up another article, “You should also know that Hawkmoth’s powers aren’t how you envisioned.”

“What?”

“If you were possessed by an akuma, which in turn makes you an akuma or having been akumatised according to this blog dedicated to the subject, then you would have a wacky, and generally tacky, outfit in the theme of whatever you had been upset about. You are unchanged in that department.”

“Oh,” He said, not sure what else there was to say.

“Additionally, an akumatised victim, if unchanged, has a purple butterfly shape over their eyes and no spatial awareness. You are lacking in both of those traits.”

“So ultimately,” Selena interjected, with a smirk, “This is about the cute girl you met, who you remembered every detail of her appearance.”

Damian’s face grew hot and his scowl deepened, “I never said she was cute!”

“Was she?” 

He choked, and turned away, “If I’m not a danger, or contaminated, then let me out. I’ve got crime-fighting to do.”

Selena leaned up against the glass, “No, no. We’ll still have to examine you. Especially seeing as you have this girl on your mind.”

“She’s not on my mind!” He yelled.

“You were quite, how would Master Dick put it… ‘spaced out’ in the car earlier, Master Damian. Then you were in a panic. I do believe she was on your mind, sorry to say.”

“Who’s side are you on?” Damian growled, glaring at Alfred.

“The side of truth and justice,” He answered.

“So,” Selena drawled, “What’s her name?”

“No.” He hissed.

Barbara began tapping away at the keyboard again, “If you don’t tell us we can easily get it from the school’s security cameras and database.”

Damian looked between them, angry like a caged animal, “Leave her be.”

“Protective now,” Selena teased, “This is escalating.”

“Why did I tell you anything?!” He yelled, stomping around in the container, “I was just trying to do the right thing, telling you about something wrong, and now I have to be punished for it?!”

“Sorry Master Damian,” Alfred apologised.

“Speak for yourself,” Selena smiled, but it faltered at the look of betrayal from Damian, “Kiddo, I’m just trying to get an understanding on this mystery girl. Hell, if I see her I’ll keep that… ‘emotional manipulation’ theory in mind. For now, as your step-mother, I want the deets.”

Damian groaned, dragging his hands down his face, before glaring at her, “Her name is Marinette Quinson and you need to leave her the hell alone. She’s new, from France, and is very strange. Can I go now?”

“Strange how?”

“Fucking-” Alfred’s stern look derailed that statement, “Alright. Fine. She’s just… really good at knowing people. Actually, she’s really good at knowing. She’s smart, terribly smart. And annoying, she’s really annoying. She didn’t leave me alone all day. She’s also ridiculously good at people watching. We were doing that at lunch, and she knows far too much about everyone. Like, all the drama I’ve amassed over months of accidental eavesdropping, she knew in a glance.”

“So you went to lunch?” Selena grinned.

He stared at her, dead-pan, “Did that really have to be what you focussed on?”

“Yes.”

After many more questions, which Damian decided not to answer, he was free. He bolted out and back into the manor and towards his room, having previously realised he wasn’t in the mood to see any of his family, which was inevitable if he went out for a fight. 

In his room was a cacophony of noise from his caged birds, fish, Titus and a low growling from Alfred The Cat. Titus bound up to his owner, and best friend, bowling over the 17-year-old with the full force of a four-year-old Great Dane. 

After an hour of feeding his hoard of animals, Damian had firmly distracted himself from his day. Once that was done, however, his thoughts tried to race back to him. Stubbornly, he clipped Titus to a leash and took him out, narrowly missing Jason and Alfred wandering the halls of Wayne Manor.

Once outside Damian simply roamed with Titus, decidedly firmly to have absolutely nothing on his mind.

He easily could’ve thought about the strange new girl, and her pretty eyes, but he was firmly against that. So, instead, his mind stayed firmly affixed to the feel of the leash in his hand, the tugs Titus gave to walk faster, and the wind at his back. 

After almost an hour of walking, he wandered back home (at Titus’ duress). He didn’t really want to go back into the house just yet, however. So instead, he sat at the edge of garden and looked up at the sky. 

Now that his mind wasn’t preoccupied with Not Thinking About Her, it decided to think about her.

Blue eyes like the sky, wide and kind, “Are you alright? You seem… upset?”

“Traitor,” He hissed at himself, sitting back up. Titus looked over, tilting his head in confusion. Damian just slumped over, annoyed and confused. His loyal and clever dog raced towards him, nearly bowling Damian over to sit in his lap and lick his face. 

After a couple of minutes, and a few firm words, Titus stopped and sat back. Damian lazily reached over and scratched behind his ears. 

He didn’t like Marinette that way, he was certain. He’d never liked anyone that way. He was beginning to suspect he wasn't physically incapable of it.

So why was Selena convinced that was the only answer? What did she know that he didn’t?

“What makes her so convinced I like someone like that?”

Titus tilted his head, confused.

“Exactly,” Damian replied, “I don’t get it either.”

Titus barked a couple of times, which brought a smile to Damian’s features before he sighed again and rested his face against his dog’s.

“What am I feeling, Titus?” He asked, “Do I… Do I like her like that? I don’t think so. I’ve only just met her. But like… maybe?” He sighed again, “I don’t even know how this works.”

Titus whined, nuzzling into his owner. Damian smiled, scratching behind Titus’ ears again, before flopping back into the grass and looking up at the sky. The sky that reminded him of bluebell eyes, and the things he didn’t know.

He glared back at the bluebell sky, (which had also betrayed him. Gotham skies were supposed to be grey and safe, not blue and annoying), and rolled onto his side to face Titus to try and distract himself.

It was nearly dark when he heard someone else coming towards him. 

Dick Grayson squatted down next to his brother, having been sent out by Alfred and Selena who’d seen the boy staying completely still for the past half-hour. Dick smiled down at Damian, who looked up at him, then scowled and rolled away.

“Are you going to tell me I like her too?” The sting was still in his voice, but there was a softness to it that took Dick by surprise. 

Dick blinked in surprise, deciding to sit down properly on the grass, “What happened?”

He looked over at him, wary, “They didn’t tell you?”

“I only just got home,” Dick answered.

Damian rolled onto his back, looking up at the sky that was beginning to darken in the sunset, but with red tinges closer to the sun, which of course reminded him of her hair, fuck , he closed his eyes, “I had to show a new girl around today. She’s from France, and she’s very… strange.”

“Well, she is foreign. You were the same once-”

“No,” He cut in, “She’s different. She’s from Paris, where there’s been a supervillain terrorising the city for the past three years, but she’s not like anyone who’s ever been under the thumb of a supervillain. Hell, it sounded like she was in the front lines through a lot of his attacks. She should be cynical, and angry, and annoyed, like everyone around here.”

“And she’s not?”

Damian sat up and looked over, “No! She’s not! She’s nice, and kind, and really smart. Like, ridiculously smart. She knows… Fuck, it feels like she knows everything. Like all the secrets of the universe are in her eyes.”

“Uh huh…”

“And I know that sounded cheesy,” He interjected, “and it was, but… fuck, I don’t know how else to explain it. And I’m… I’m weird around her.”

“Weird?”

He shoved his hand through his hair, “I laugh. I’m not… I’m relaxed, or at least as relaxed as I can get. It’s like… it’s like I’m actually in class, and I want to be there. My mind isn’t on Penguin’s newest scheme, or how to take down Bane the quickest. I’m thinking about… I don’t know.”

“Right.” 

“I don’t like her,” Damian assured, staring at Titus who was just enjoying his ear scratches, “I can’t. She’s so annoying , and right there, and I don’t like her. I don’t like anyone. I don’t-are you smiling ?!”

Dick couldn’t help it, really. Watching his brother struggle over a pretty and strange girl who made him feel things he’d never felt before, it felt so stupid and cringe-worthy, and exactly what he'd done when a certain alien princess fell into his world and stole his heart. Watching Damian now was like looking through a looking-glass, straight at a past-Dick who was just as confused by the sky suddenly reminding him of her, and wondering how he'd been so lucky for this angel of a person to fall into his life (quite literally). 

Dick schooled his smile into one of reassurance, before looking up at the sky vaguely, “You don’t like her.” He repeated, which he knew would be grating to Damian’s ear, he could practically feel his brother wince, (The statement he had stolen from a Bruce long ago who had sat with Dick in a very similar manner to the brothers sitting now. The line was what Dick usually attributed to being the catalyst of his realising he liked Starfire, and hopefully it had the same effect here) “Or maybe you do like her. So what? You don’t need to know, or do anything about it right now. Eventually, you’ll figure out your feelings and what you want out of a relationship with her, whether platonic or romantic. No need to rush. Maybe all of this mess is just that you found your very first friend and you’re excited.”

“Friend?” Damian repeated, turning back towards the edge of the garden, his chest was warm, “You think I have a friend?”

“It doesn’t really matter what I think,” Dick replied, “It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks, except for you and her. It’s your relationship.”

“Oh,” He whispered, “I see.”

“Feeling any better?”

“Much,” He admitted before he could stop himself.

“Good to hear,” Dick grinned, “I think she’ll be good for you, if this mental breakdown of yours is anything to go by.”

“Mental breakdown?”

Dick shrugged, “That’s what I called it when I had them.”

“You had them?” Damian asked, surprised. Then he looked over to Dick, eyes narrowed to radiate his suspicion, “Who about?”

“Starfire.”

Damian stood up abruptly, glowering down at his brother, “You’re fucking lucky you give good advice, else I’d be throwing you into that tree.” 

Then he stalked off back to the house, seemingly back to his patented Damian-esque behaviour.

Chapter Text

Two weeks passed, filled with companionable lunches and restrained laughter. Of gradual trust on both sides.

Damian was very hesitant towards their growing friendship. He had a sense of humour, and a quick wit, but it was quickly snuffed out to be replaced with that signature scowl, or a glare. He looked angry, and disgusted at all times, on the surface at least, and Marinette wasn’t sure how to get through to him at first.

That is, until she caught him doing something strange one day. 

He was waiting for her to get out to lunch, she remembered vividly, and had picked up a stick. She had finally arrived to find her almost-friend tossing the stick about easily, and twisting around to catch it again with ease. Toss, catch, jab. Toss, catch, slice. 

Defence, offense, up and down the stick went. His movements she quickly recognised. Those were movement you used with a sword, if a bit more theatrical with the tossing. 

Thank goodness she had become friends with the International Fencing Champion, Kagami Tsurugi, in the past few years. They’d gotten off to a rough start, certainly, but eventually they became close friends, and Kagami had taken it upon herself to teach Marinette a few moves. 

The noirette smirked, picking up a stick of her own and advancing. Perhaps this would ruin their almost-friendship, or perhaps it would strengthen it. Marinette was a woman of luck, and luck was just a game of risk that you won.

Toss-jab.

He squeaked, jumping away at having been poked. His eyes were wide with fright which quickly narrowed as they found Marinette. She just grinned, and stuck her foot out which caught his stick. With a swift kick, she sent it his way. 

With a flourish and a twirl, Damian avoided having his eye stabbed out and caught the stick.

“That was cute,” Marinette noted.

He raised an eyebrow, “What exactly do you think you’re doing here?”

Marinette’s smirk became determined, “Making a friend proud, I’m sure.”

He got into a defensive position, “What do you know? Who taught you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, pretty-boy?”

His cheeks grew red as his eyes widened. She look the advantage.

Dashing forward she almost poked him again, but he was quick to block and, with her momentum, tossed her up. If she was anyone else, this would’ve ruined her. Thankfully, she was the Amazing Marinette. She flipped with the momentum and came down with a classic Ladybug stance, her stick broken in two.

They stared for a moment, before his eyes widened in horror, “Wait, did I just flip you?”

“Threw me actually, I made it a flip.”

“Fuck! Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to-” He tossed his stick aside and rushed forward, but stopped suddenly, seemingly rethinking the decision, though his concern and guilt was still there, “Did I hurt you?”

She relaxed into a standing position, “No? Have you hurt people before with that move?”

He paused, and looked away. 

He has . 

“N-not anyone that didn’t deserve it.”

She narrowed her eyes carefully, “Villain?’

“Brother.”

“Ah,” She nodded, maybe she was just being paranoid. Damian didn’t seem the type to just hurt people out of pure malice (though she couldn’t deny that he would absolutely get in a fist fight with just about anyone), “Well, don’t worry. I’m rather used to those sorts of counters.”

He sighed in relief, and she smiled, poking his side to get another squeak out of him. He glared.

“Why?”

“Because,” She replied, “We’re full-blown friends now. And friends toss each other over their shoulders, and poke their sides apparently.”

“I hear that’s the exact opposite of friendship.”

“Only when you don’t do it with love.” She grinned.

He blinked in surprise, before sighing, but it sounded fond to her ear, “Well, Miss Paris, City of Love, are we going to lunch at some point?”

“Of course, Monsieur Gotham, City of Crime,” She grinned.

Another two weeks passed, and marinette was pleased to find that their interactions, their conversations, began to flow a lot easier, and they grew to be Proper friends. 

Damian's general annoyance was no longer directed towards Marinette, though it certainly didn't disappear with her presence (she took it as a win). And his hesitancy to allow her into his circle eventually disappeared. 

Apparently this was the biggest mystery of Gotham Academy if the conversations Marinette had with her classmates were anything to go by.

“How did you get Damian Wayne to tolerate you?”

“How do you talk to him and not, you know, run?”

“Is he always so angry?”

“Why aren’t you scared of him?”

She sighed, leaning against the railing she was sat against. They were currently on top of the roof, where they had taken to having their lunch after they got in trouble for leaving school premises. 

Damian looked up at the noise, “Something wrong?”

Nobody seems to like you, she almost said, “Just… Science.”

He scoffed, with a tiny smirk cracking through the angry expression he naturally kept. She was yet to understand how no one else could see that. They just saw his eyebrows furrowed together, or the scowl he usually wore, or they’d be blinded by the snap in his tone, and suddenly he was the scariest student at Gotham Academy.

“You really don’t like Science,” He noted, “I really don’t understand how you ever could. It’s fascinating.”

She turned towards him with a scoff of her own, her smile clear as day, “That’s only because you’re a nerd .”

He gasped in mock offense, “How dare you!”

“Tell the truth?”

He feigned a glare, but she could see he didn’t mean it. She knew his meaningful glare.

It was strange, being so perceptive. It hadn’t always been so. 

Long ago, Marinette couldn’t see through the snap of a girl’s voice to hear the break in it, and that got her a bully of four years. She didn’t hear the desperation of a boy telling the truth, and that got her an enemy for a day. 

Then she was Ladybug, and suddenly every turn of a tone or furrow of a brow was important. It could mean life or death, victory or defeat, someone else to pound into being themselves once more.

Her perceptiveness only seemed to improve, and the most recent result was her seemingly furious best friend, who she knew had a heart of gold and and funniest jokes she’d ever heard, under all the angst of course. If she wasn’t as perceptive, she was certain she’d never have had him as a friend, even if she had met him. 

That didn’t mean she wasn’t annoyed by everyone not enjoying Damian’s company here. Maybe it was because they hadn’t lived in a world where your life was on the line every time you so much as looked at someone wrong. Where you would almost certainly get hurt if you pissed off anyone powerful, and anyone could become powerful at any given moment… but then again, they did live in that world. Maybe not to the moment like Paris had been, but incurring someone's wrath in Gotham never ended well if half the things Damian, Ivy and Harley told her were true. 

She just didn't understand it. 

And the comments especially seemed to almost haunt Marinette’s thoughts. Why were they scared of him? What did he do? Sure he got angry easily, but Marinette had a temper of her own, yet they seemed more than happy to tell her how terrifying her best friend was. It had to be more than that.

Was it because he was rich? Because that didn’t bother Marinette in the slightest. A fair amount of her friends back in Paris were rich, that didn’t mean they weren’t human. 

Damian just… it felt like they struck him down from society, as though he could never contribute anything of importance. They’d just tossed him aside, and it surely couldn’t be because of his stupid face? It felt like it went deeper than just his face.

“Damian.”

He let his glare fade, and frowned at her, “Yeah, Marinette?”

“Why… why am I your only friend?”

He looked taken aback by the question, and couldn’t seem to form an answer.

“I don’t mean that in a bad way,” She quickly assured, looking at her lap where her lunch sat, “I like being your friend, and I’m quite happy for us to just be our friends… but you’ve been here for years. Have you had a friend here before?”

“No,” He replied quietly, “No, I haven’t had a friend here before.”

She blinked in surprise, looking at him critically. He was hunched over a bit, staring at the ground.

“Why?” She asked, “Why not?”

“I don’t know!” He snapped, his gaze shifting to her instantly. Anyone else in her place would’ve flinched, would’ve been hurt… but Marinette knew somehow, as she always did, he wasn’t mad at her or her question. 

She smiled kindly, and maybe for the fiftieth time since they met Damian looked surprised by her reaction. It only made her sadder and sadder, as she began to realise he probably hurt a lot of people with his temper, and had begun to expect it.

“I was just thinking, that it was a shame nobody else got to see you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Being friendly,” She smiled, “Being friends. They’re seriously missing out.” She turned back to her lunch, and pulled out a container of pizza-rolls Harley had given her this morning.

She looked to Damian through the corner of her eye, and was stunned to see him staring at her. His face was beet-red, and his mouth was hanging agape. 

She turned her gaze fully to him, waiting to see if he’d change. When he didn’t she leaned over and poked his side, which always brought him out of any sort of stun with a short screech. 

He glared for real now, but she only giggled at him. “Very cruel,” He growled, looking away with a huff.

She burst into a fit of laughter. When she’d calmed she tossed a couple pizza rolls into her mouth, and watched Damian who was still furiously looking away.

“I meant it,” She said firmly, “They are missing out.”

He looked to her out of the corner of his eye, to see if she looked sincere. After a long moment he seemed satisfied that she was being truthful, and turned back to her.

“Thank you, Marinette. I appreciate that.” 

She smiled brightly, nodding to him curtly, before looking up at the sky. It was dark and gloomy as usual. Not bright and blue as Paris’ was, but staring up at the dark clouds that churned above Gotham brought her a sense of comfort.

I’m glad I’m not in Paris anymore, she thought. 

Then was struck by an odd realisation. Since she had arrived, Marinette was only grateful to be in Gotham because it was away from Chat Noir. 

Right now though, in this moment sitting with her best friend who had the worst resting-bitch-face, she was grateful to be in Gotham because it was Gotham. Because of said best friend, she was certain.

The sky was dark and gloomy, but it was endearing. It was tough. It was kind, when it wanted to be. It was heroic, it was complex. It had lead a very different life than her home-city.

It was like comparing night and day, light and darkness.

Adrien and Damian . She choked on her pizza-roll, and began coughing harshly. 

Where did that come from?

Damian was slapping her back to try and help her coughing fit, when a shrill bell sounded below them. She had finally recovered, and despite Damian’s glance of concern stuffed the rest of her pizza rolls into her mouth as she shoved the container back into her lunch bag. 

He shook his head with a fond smile, before standing up, turning and offering his hand to her, as he so often seemed inclined to do. 

She took Damian’s hand without hesitation and stood, only for her lunch box to fly open. She had forgotten to close it.

“Meade!” She squeaked, and quickly went to clean it up. 

Damian barked out a laugh, before dropping down to help her clean up. Soon enough they were on their way again, making certain her lunch box was closed when they got up this time. 

They began heading off, certain they’d be late.

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said as they were walking through the halls at a quick pace, “We always seem to be late because of me.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Damian replied, “Who wants to be there before everyone else anyway?”

She smiled, though the guilt was still there. 

He noted the hesitance in her smile, but didn’t say anything. Quickly they both dumped their things and were about to head to class when Damian noted a strange green gas spilling out from under the door of a nearby classroom.

He glared at it, and on instinct pulled out the air mask he never left home without. 

“Ok!” Marinette exclaimed, coming up beside him, “I’m ready to go-ooh, what’s that?”

He turned to her, panic settling into him now. She frowned at the clear fear present in his wide blue eyes.

“Damian?”

“We have to get out of here,” He said firmly.

She blinked in surprise, before frowning, “I can’t just skip class, Damian. I’ve only been here a few weeks.”

He scowled in irritation, shoving the mask back into his jacket and grabbing her hand to begin dragging her away.

“Damian!” She yelled, “Class is that-”

“So’s the gas!” He exclaimed.

Her eyes widened and she looked behind her. Sure enough there was a large cloud of green gas billowing towards them from down the hallway. She turned back and ran in pace with him.

“What’s the plan?”

“Get outside.” He replied.

She nodded, “Have you any idea what it does?”

“My money is on paralysis. Possibly knock-out gas. Hell, for all I know it could be deadly laughing gas.”

“Assume the worst,” Marinette agreed, “What about everyone else?”

“We can’t do anything for them if we’re caught up in it too.” He snapped. 

She turned forward, and suddenly her three years of being a superhero felt even more important than before. She scanned the hallway for exits, and in the process saw another source of green gas coming up the other end of the hallway. 

“More gas!” She exclaimed, tugging Damian to a stop. 

He looked panicked now, without a plan. The gas was getting closer, and he only had one mask.

A firm expression crossed his face as he came to a decision. He quickly pulled Marinette over to the rows of lockers.

“Damian,” She was growing worried herself, “What are you doing?”

“I have a plan,” He replied.

“Will I like this plan?”

He smiled, pulling out the breathing mask and affixing it to Marinette’s face, “Not one bit.” 

She frowned, “What are you going to do?”

He placed his hands on her hips and hoisted her up onto the lockers, “I’m going to try and find a window, get out of here. You stay here, and stay out of sight. Don’t be a hero.”

That was against Marinette’s code, but she didn’t have the chance to tell him such before he was dashing down the hall and with one large gasp of breath he was overtaken by the gas. She stared for a second, before getting up and dashing after him on top of the lockers. 

After a decent distance she was beginning to admire Damian’s ability to run without air , but now she could see light. 

There was a window at the end of the hall, but the spark of hope was quickly snuffed out as Marinette heard a gasp of breath. Her eyes were watering as she spotted Damian’s silhouette, through the gas, drop

Chapter Text

She was about to jump down to help her friend when the door just in front of her opened with a bang. 

She dropped like a sack of potatoes on top of the lockers, which was only masked by the loud cackle of the person who opened the door. 

“Ah,” A shrill voice squealed, “There’s our little money-maker! Glad we found you!”

Her heart was pounding, and she felt sick when a man dressed in a colourful jester-like get-up approached Damian’s unconscious (she hoped) body. She nearly screamed as he squatted down beside her friend, her stupid idiotic sacrificial friend who she was planning to murder herself later. 

“Punch,” The man said seriously, before he turned with a disgustingly wide grin, “Take him to the car, won’t you dear? I have a robbery to get back to. Stay with them Judy, don't want the Bats stopping you.” He turned on his heel and made his way back into the room they had just exited, which Marinette now realised was the Principal’s office. 

Punch, she presumed, stepped forward silently and hoisted Damian up onto his shoulder. Her chest grew tight with worry as the boy ragdolled down the strong-man’s back.

Then they made their way to the window which Judy jumped through, Punch was quick to follow.

Marinette growled and pulled out her blazer, “Tikki,” She hissed, “Spots-”

Now she could see her fatal error. Tikki hadn’t been shielded from the gas any more than Damian, and was getting a bit of shut-eye herself. 

Marinette was on her own…

A scowl of determination, which Damian would’ve been proud of, crossed Marinette’s features as she leapt down and raced after her friend and his kidnappers. 

She flipped through the window after them, and landed behind a bush. She spotted them across the way and raced after the blundering oafs who were idly waddling towards their getaway vehicle. 

The vehicle in question was a minivan, on the small side in Marinette’s opinion which seemed to fit the clown-theme well. It was coloured a vile purple with gags and jokes etched into the paint-job. They pulled the van door open and tossed Damian haphazardly into the backseat, before separating to enter the front seats. Marinette quickly snuck in, only half angry they didn’t bother to shut the door, as it made this easier for her. 

Then they were off, down the road at an alarming speed. Marinette held tightly onto Damian, to try and make sure he didn’t fly out of the open van door and to be sure he didn’t hit his head on the car somewhere. 

After a minute Marinette settled herself kneeling on the ground and pulled the breathing mask down to sit around her neck. Her hands returned to securing Damian. 

She sighed, then glared at her friend as police sirens began to blare.

“You’re so stupid,” She hissed, knowing her words weren’t being heard by anyone, “You should’ve taken the mask yourself, and gotten help. Why would you give it to me?”

Being jostled by the ride was his only response. She sighed, rearranging her grip to keep him a bit steadier. With one arm slung over his waist and holding desperately to the belt buckle, that didn’t have a seat-belt to attach to (she checked), and the other firm on his chest, she felt a little better for his safety. Of course, their being kidnapped wasn’t helping her nerves. 

It was all too late that Marinette thought to actually jump out of the van with Damian, because now they were in a dark garage. 

When the van finally came to a stop Marinette leapt out and behind a pile of crates, which reminded her of her first night in Gotham. She peeked out and saw Punch picking up Damian again, and was hit with a wave of guilt at not dragging Damian out when she had the chance. 

The guilt morphed suddenly into horror, and she had to slap a hand over her mouth to stop her scream, at the loud bang of Damian’s head against the doorframe. Punch just grunted sympathetically, tossing her friend over his shoulder again. 

Marinette’s blood was boiling.

She sneakily followed them, watching as they tossed Damian into a very large bird-cage. 

Punch tied Damian’s hands to one of the bars at the hinge of the door, while Judy made his way over to a control panel which was covered in levers. Marinette was sure they’d taken the whole thing from a crane somewhere. 

Punch closed the cage with a loud clang click, which Marinette knew had to be a lock, and when the large man stepped away Jude pushed up the main lever, which in turn pulled up Damian’s cage. Once it was a fair way up, he returned the lever to its neutral position, making the cage stop, then he pushed a different button which opened a swimming pool below that was buzzing strangely.

Electric eels. Marinette realised, This is going to be one difficult rescue mission.

Before Marinette could do anything to help her friend, though, a loud cackle sounded behind her. She immediately began leaping up the crates and out of sight. Now she could see the clown man returned, and he made her feel just as uneasy as before.

I’d take Mr. Mime any day over this joke , she thought to herself as a chill ran up her spine.

“Punch! Judy!” He exclaimed in glee, “Joker’s home!”

Joker , she thought, a glare settling onto her face, fitting.

Punch and Judy only nodded, as Joker made his way towards the pool, stopping just in front of it and looking up to Damian’s cage. 

“So, we got the little Wayne?”

They nodded.

“No trouble?”

Not yet, Marinette thought bitterly, But I’ll be sure to give you some soon, Creep. 

They nodded again.

He grinned wider, Marinette was beginning to wonder where his smile stopped. Suddenly he jumped, leaping all the way up to Damian’s cage, making it rock harshly. It felt like her heart burst out of her chest with the shock of it, as Joker pulled out Damian’s phone and jumped back down. 

He made his way over to the main control panel, and plugged in the phone, before making a call. Suddenly on the big screen was an older man’s face, he had a moustache and a confused frown.

“Master Damian?” He asked, “Why are you calling me during school hours?”

Marinette knew him. He was Damian’s butler, and chauffeur, which he held in high regard. She had only seen him when waving off Damian after school, and remembered Damian introducing him as Alfred.

“Ooh, no. Sorry. The little devil can’t make it to the phone right now,” Joker teased, the man’s expression was schooled, but Marinette could see the panic behind his eye.

“Joker,” The butler noted, “What is it you need this time ?”

So this has happened before? Marinette realised, her stomach twisting painfully.

Suddenly there was a groan, and Marinette could see Damian sitting up properly.

“Ah!” Joker exclaimed, “The rich-boy in question!”

Damian’s expression grew panicked, as his gaze snapped down to Joker. His teeth gritted in clear irritation, and his glare was not to be reckoned with. Marinette smiled, grateful that the hit to his head hadn’t sent him into a daze, that could’ve been very dangerous.

“Joker,” He yelled back bitterly, “What are you doing with my phone?”

“Oh, just making a quick call,” Joker giggled just as a different man came into view on the monitor.

“Damian, why aren’t you in school?” 

Damian grew rigid as he looked to the man, before turning away with a huff, “Does it matter?”

Father, Marinette noted. The father Damian apparently fought with on a regular basis because he was overprotective… but he seemed to have a right to be if this was a regular occurence. Marinette shook her head clear of her wandering thoughts and turned back to the task at hand. 

The two larger goons wouldn’t have been any trouble for Ladybug, but she was Marinette and Marinette wasn’t inclined to fight men twice her size… usually. Punch she was just about ready to go toe-to-toe with.

Damian was obviously going to be threatened, likely with the eel pool. He was tied up, away from the lock, and a fair way away from her…

She looked up to the chain holding Damian’s cage, which by some miracle had pulleys all over the place, so it came over her head. She just needed to get a bit higher up, and she could probably get a hold of it. 

She began climbing, careful now as she was beginning to find the layers of the pile weren’t just crates. There was random crap up here too, which was becoming increasingly worrying the higher she went. 

God, she wished she was Ladybug right now.

Eventually she found herself close enough to get a hold on the chain, but in doing so had missed the whole conversation between Mr Wayne and Joker.

Now that she had a hold on it, she pulled herself up on top of it and began inching closer to the main pulley that was keeping Damian out of the water.

About halfway there the chain suddenly let out, as Damian’s cage dropped, sending Marinette forward towards the main pulley. She didn’t even have time to scream, or move, before it stopped and her hand was an inch from being crushed in the pulley.

“See, Mr Wayne?” Joker mocked, “I could drop him at any time.”

She looked up, Mr Wayne was beginning to look worried.

“No picking the lock,” Joker teased, “Had to learn that the hard way. No way to contact authorities,” He shook the phone, “or Batman. Unless you send me 10 billion dollars, Mr Wayne, your son is as good as dead.”

Marinette felt hot angry tears well up in her eyes as she held tightly to the chain and dropped into hanging off of it. With a wild kick her leg came in contact with the chain that was hanging downwards. She quickly linked her legs around it and swapped her grip from the chain overhead to the vertical one. 

“I’ll…”

“No calling Batman yourself, Mr Wayne,” Joker warned, “I have you being monitored.”

Marinette looked over briefly to follow Joker’s gaze to Jude who was sitting at a tiny office chair with an old computer he was tapping away at. She gritted her teeth, and barred for the worse as she began to lower towards Damian’s cage.

“I’ll pay it,” Mr Wayne said, “Just… don’t hurt my son.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it!” Joker grinned, stepping away from the control panel and disconnecting the phone.

Marinette, now without Joker's eyes on the cage, slid down the chain quickly and landed with a soft thump onto the top of the cage. 

“Ah,” Damian said from within, “What took you so-”

She had dropped down into view, her feet on the floor of the cage as she hooked an arm through the bars to keep herself out of the drink.

“Long?” She finished.

“You’re supposed to be at school,” He hissed, eyes dashing back to Joker with new anxiety.

She glared, which caught his gaze and bewilderment, “Not a chance I’m just leaving my friend to be kidnapped ,” She hissed, and began plucking at his hands which were basically just a ball of rope with how they were tied, “Though I suppose you know how this goes, since no one was surprised at your being kidnapped!”

“Shh,” He whispered desperately, but quickly stopped at her new glare, “Marinette, please. It’s dangerous-”

“You think I don’t know danger ?” She hissed, “I have seen plenty of danger, pretty-boy. I’ve faced more near-death encounters than you can count , and I’ve seen my friends die over and over again.”

“What?”

She looked down angrily at his bound hands, “There’s no chance in hell I’m going to just sit back and watch you get hurt. Watch your dad hand your fortune away when I could do something! Most of all, I’m not going to watch one of my friends die and never come back.”

He frowned, and tugged his hands apart to reveal that he too had been picking away at his binds, “We’re talking about this properly. When you’re safe.”

“When we’re safe,” She growled.

He moved over to the cage door, and began picking the lock as Marinette made her way to the other side of the door, “What’s the difference?” He replied.

She was too flabbergasted to reply. The gall to say such a thing when she had been worried sick about him for the past half an hour. When the door opened she didn’t stop glaring at him.

He looked over to the monitor, and she followed his gaze. It was only a leap away for Ladybug. Marinette on the other hand… she might’ve needed a run up.

Damian motioned for her to move into the entrance of the cage, and she did… reluctantly. He back up to the other end of the cage, making it tilt back slightly towards him. 

“Be ready to let go,” He instructed.

“What are you going to do?” She hissed harshly.

He blinked up at her, before a soft smile crossed his features, “‘Nette, please. Trust me.”

Her eyes scanned his and she changed her grip to the bars next to her, “If I regret this…”

He smiled, his eyes shimmering with mischief, almost saying that’s good enough for me , before he came at her in huge bounds. The cage rocketed back towards her end, and at its maximum height he tackled her out of the entrance.

She let go.

Chapter Text

They were falling, or maybe they were soaring, Marinette couldn’t tell.

At some point her hands had grabbed desperately onto Damian's blazer, and her head had buried itself into his shoulder. The world was slow as they moved, as though no one on Earth could take a breath while they were in the air. 

The world came back into motion as they rolled sideways onto the monitor, which Marinette now knew was just a large white outcrop from the wall which had something projecting onto it. They rolled about three times before stopping on Damian’s back. 

He was panting, his heart racing beneath her ear. Hers felt like she’d dropped it into the eel pool. Slowly her head rose from his chest, meeting wide blue eyes with her own, before a laugh began to bubble up in her chest. 

He began to laugh too, and soon they were a giggling mess piled on top of one another. He sighed in relief, and she let out the last of her hysterical giggles. 

She snapped up and glared fiercely, “What the hell were you thinking?” She hissed.

“That I needed to get us out of that thing,” He replied, wincing slightly at her tone.

She felt her face grow red, and her vision blurred. He sat up suddenly, now she could feel his concern, fuck, am I crying?

“D-don’t scare me like that again,” She sobbed quietly, “I… I!”

He encased her in a tight hug, which morphed her words into blubbering. 

"Pourquoi tous mes amis sont-ils si stupides!" She wailed into his shoulder. 

Damian wince, "Desolé," he whispered. 

Marinette pulled back, her mouth agape, he knows french? Oh, fuck that. I want him to hear everything in his nativd fucking tongue. She glared angrily and he flinched, "How dare you. How dare you put me in that position. How dare you be so fucking dumb, how dare you make me save you-"

"I didn't make you save me!" Damian interjected, under her furious gaze he quickly amended, "I appreciate it, Marinette. Beyond belief. But you didn't have to do that. We have heroes here too-"

"And where the fuck are they?!" She screeched, "No where close enough that's for fucking sure. They weren't there to help when you passed out in the gas cloud, they weren't there to help when you were thrown in the back of a minivan, and they aren't here now." She spat, her glare was fierce, "I was there, i got to see you get ragdolled over punch's shoulder. I got to make sure you didn't fly out the open door of that fucking minivan. I got the pleasure of nearly crushing my hand in a pulley to get to you."

His expression became more and more open to his shock and horror as she went on. Now he was staring agape at her, blue eyes so very wide, eventually he swallowed his shock, but guilt laced his expression now, "Je suis desolé, Marinette. I just didn't want you wrapped up in this. And I definitely didn't want you to ever meeting Joker if I could help it."

Marinette snorts despite herself, "Mon dieu, he's such a creep."

"My least favourite villain by far." Damian agreed, smiling softly at her. Before he pulled her into a tight hug, "I'm so sorry you had to do that. I'm so sorry Marinette."

She relaxed into the hug, clinging to his blazer, which she suspected was going to be riddled with holes by the end of this. "I forgive you," she whispered softly, the anger disappearing as she held onto him, "as long as you never do that to me again."

"Alright, next time I'll take the mask and you can be unconscious on the lockers." His dry humour had returned it seems. So did Marinette's fury, with a vengeance. 

"Don't you dare, ever do that to me." She growled, her grip tightening on his shoulders, he tensed with it, "The one thing that could make this situation any worse is if I couldn't do anything to help you."

"I'm-"

She pulled back and her swallowed the words at her expression, "Stop apologising. I forgave you. Besides," she brightened, "keeping my friends safe is my specialty."

He softened too, but her words made him frown, "why do you need to do that? I am perfectly capable of defending myself."

She poked his side and he squeaked grabbing her hand quickly, "Maybe that's why I don't believe you." He glared, and she grinned, before it fell as she looked around warily, "we should probably leave now, else they catch us."

"You can," Damian replied and her gaze snapped back to him, "like you said, the heroes aren't here yet, and once Joker realises I've escaped he's going to run. I need to-"

"Don't even finish that sentence or I am going to kill you." She hissed at him, glaring for good measure before sighing and resting her forehead on his chest, "You're going to do it anyway, aren't you?"

"He needs to be taken down," Damian replied carefully, "that's just a fact."

She groaned, "I know," she leant back looking at the roof, "i thought i finally got away from dumb self-righteous idiots who throw themselves in the line of danger."

Damian raised an eyebroe, "So you know my family then?"

Her gaze snapped back to him, and she stared for a long minute, "alright let's do it."

"Do what?"

"We're taking down the Joker, pretty boy." She replied with a grin. 

Chapter Text

Damian blinked at Marinette slowly, processing what she was saying, "'Nette, you don't need to-"

"No, I want to." She replied, a gleam in her eye and her grin excited. 

Damian had never seen her like this. He might've thought she didn't see the danger in this situation, but she had been privy to a lot more of the situation than he had apparently. 

"This isn't an Akuma," he replied slowly, warily, he didn't want to bring her down from this high but he also didn't want her to underestimate the situation, "There's no fix all button at the end of this. Can you be careful?"

Marinette snorted at him, "I was born careful. Now come on, we got a clown to take down."

Damian groaned dramatically, flopping back, "Oh god, not the quips, please!"

She snickered, "Sad. I'm the best at quips."

He looked up and smiled, it was quirky and goofy and miniscule compared to Marinette's, "I don't doubt that."

She scrunched her nose up and shook her head, thinking he'd been sarcastic probably, before climbing off of him- and Damian very suddenly realised where Marinette had been, how that conversation had gone, all while his best friend and crush sat in his lap ! 

His face grew red at that knowledge, and his heart sped up like he was making that jump again. 

A hand came into view in front of his face and he frowned, following it he found Marinette smiling down at him, "At some point I had to return the favour."

He smiled despite the growing embarrassment swirling through his chest and head, it was embarrassment after all, "I'm surprised you got the opportunity." He took her hand and she hauled him up. 

"That's 'cause you're so far from the ground," she grinned, "You big dumb giant."

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, "Says the girl who cheats off of my homework."

"Oh, come on!" She exclaimed, "You know Science isn't my strong suit."

He chuckled and she turned on her heel and looked over the scene before them. He wandered forward and began cataloguing advantages. 

"I'm going to need to be bait if we set a trap," he finally said. 

Marinette's gaze snapped to him and opened her mouth to refute that, but he wasn't looking at her. She turned back, "I don't like that plan."

"It's not a plan, it's a fact." He sighed and knelt down. Pulling a copper pipe from where it was affixed, "If it makes you feel any better I can be armed when it happens." 

"What are you going to do?" She watched him apprehensively, before a teasing grin spread across her face, "Flip him?"

"Ha. Ha. Very funny," He rolled his eyes, "I am rather skilled at fighting, actually."

"Do tell."

He looked over to her, debating whether he should tell her. "I, um. Well, I was trained by my grandfather until I was 13, and then further trained in self defence by my father." It wasn't a lie, by any means… except maybe by ommission, "My entire family is very skilled fighters, but don't tell them I told you so." He narrowed his eyes at her, but it wasn't quite a glare. 

Marinette blinked up at him, before nodding, "Alright, I'll believe you."

He nodded curtly. 

"And if you didn't have a concussion I'd probably let you go at it with your plan, but we're not in those circumstances. You're not going to be the bait in any way."

He gaped at her, "Marinette, you cannot fight them on your own!"

"I'm not going to," she replied, "you're going to help me, by all means, but I refuse to put you in unnecessary danger when you are injured."

He stared at her, uneasy, his stomach twisting in worry, "What do you propose?" 

She looked to the side and immediately dashed to a pile of crates beside them. Damian frowned as she knelt down and retrieved something. She turned, brandishing a grappling hook with a cunning grin.  

"What are you going to do with that, Nette?" 

She twirled it around with a skill he didn't peg her to have, "I've got a couple tricks up my sleeve too, pretty boy." 

His face grew red, when did Marinette get so clever? He knew she was smart, but he could practically feel a plan forming in her mind. He'd never seen her like this, it was odd and strange and he loved- he was enjoying this new side of Marinette. That was all. 

She paused, the grappling hook clinking softly against the ground, the plan solidified with a smirk, "So here's what is going to happen."

Punch was on his phone when someone stepped up to him. Their steps were soft, nearly silent, he assumed it was Joker. 

He looked up in time to be roundhouse kicked to the side of the face. When he looked up he just saw furious fists pummeling into him. He didn't know how many times he was punched before he was unconscious. Five? Six? Twenty times? Who's to say. 

All he knew was that something got him, and then he was waking up in the cage they put the rich kid in. 

He was hogtied and gagged, with Judy laying next to him, still unconscious, an awful looking bump on his head. Punch passed out again.

Joker looked up at his henchmen, contained uselessly in his bird cage. Joker put his hands on his hips and looked around warily, eyes narrowed and grin stretched to disgusting edges. 

"Wow, baby Wayne! You continue to surprise me!" He called with a cackle, "I thought you'd wait it out, like you always do!"

Joker heard footsteps and turned to see a very small girl behind him. 

"My goodness, Wayne. When did that happen?"

She raised an eyebrow, "What a disgusting smile you have there," she grinned, "blague."

He was taken aback, "What did you call me?"

She twirled a baseball bat she'd found, "I called you a joke. A mockery. You're a sad excuse for a clown."

Joker's grin grew malicious, "Oh, now you're asking for it, Wayne."

"You don't even have the cognitive understanding to figure out that I'm not who you're looking for." She scoffed, "I thought you were supposed to be some sort of mad genius. Turns out you're just the bottom of the barrel of the Rogue Gallery."

Joker pointed an accusatory finger at her, his blood boiling, "You take that back!"

"Why? I'm right." 

He lost it. Screeching like a banshee and advancing suddenly on her. Her grin just widened, got you. He went to punch her, but she was quicker, landing the bat in his gut, he skidded to the side. 

He glared, the smile never leaving his face, which made Mari want to hit him harder. 

He advanced again, sliding under her swing and knocked her legs out from under her. She landed on her back, the wind knocked out of her, and rolled away from nearly being stomped on. 

She flipped up and glared at him, "Rude."

"You call me rude?!"

She grinned, "You are."

He growled, and ran at her again and dodged the bat, rounding behind her and getting her in a headlock and began to squeeze. 

She ground her teeth, stomping hard on his foot while simultaneously smacking him in the face with the bat. He yelped and screeched, but didn't let go. She hit him hard again, and then tried for a third time but he ducked out of the way. 

Panic began to set in, as the bat slipped from her grip and she began clawing at his arm. God, I wish I was Ladybug.

Suddenly there was a loud clang , and Joker's grip disappeared as he fell unconscious. 

Marinette held her throat, taking in heaping breaths of air and coughing harshly, tears stinging her eyes, as Damian rushed around, his pipe clanging to the ground as he took her shoulders in his hands. 

She blinked up at him, still heaving deep breaths, and coughing as tears blurred her vision.

He tugged her into a tight hug, "It's over now, it's done. We're safe, you're safe."

She sobbed softly into his shoulder. When was the last time she was choked? When was the last time her partner came to her rescue? She couldn't remember. Maybe Chat had never done that for her, in all their time as a crime fighting duo. 

"D-don't… you won't betray me, will you?" It was a dumb question, she knew that, Damian had no way to promise that. 

"Never." He replied anyway, without hesitation, without doubt. 

Would Chat have said the same when he was still on her side, with just as much conviction? Probably. Did it make Marinette feel better anyway? Absolutely. 

"Merci," she whispered through her tears. 

He nodded gently, holding her a bit tighter, more secure, completely encompassing her in his embrace. She gripped the front of his blazer tightly in response and they stood there for a long minute, that would never quite feel long enough. 

Despite that, Marinette pulled away, and Damian easily let her go, hands returning to her shoulders.

"You're ok now?"

"I mean, I'm definitely going to bruise somewhere but… yeah, yeah, trés bien."

He smiled softly at her, before he looked over to Joker and scowled in disgust, "I'm going to have to actually sign up to the Hate Joker Club, won't I?"

"There's a club for hating joker?" Marinette asked. 

"Yeah," Damian replied turning to her, "My brothers run it."

She smiled, hearing the joke behind Damian's tone, before turning to Joker, sighing. "We have to get him in the cage too, huh?"

"We've committed to it," Damian agreed. 

"But they're grown ass men! So heavy!" She groaned. 

"I got him, you sit down for a minute, this has been a very… trying day."

"I'm not going to do nothing and watch you do all the hard work," she argued. 

He hummed, having lost this argument twice before, "Grab my phone and call my family then. They need to know the ransom doesn't need to be paid."

She glared half-heartedly, "I feel like I'm getting the worse job of the two."

Damian grinned, "Nah, but I call dibs on Joker."

She scoffed at him in offense, but he was already getting the rope out of his blazer pocket. She rolled her eyes and made her way over to the control panel that was definitely taken off of a crane, and unplugged Damian's phone and began to navigate to the call app, (silently reprimanding Damian for his lack of password) before calling the number last called. 

Alfred's face appeared on screen again, "Joker, we are trying to sort out some-"

"Hello monsieur," Marinette greeted happily. 

"Miss Marinette?" He asked in surprise, "How are you in possession of Master Damian's telecommunication device?"

She smiled, "It's a long story, but the basic summary is that Damian is safe now, and there is no need to pay that ransom. Feel free to call the police, but you probably shouldn't bother Batman when the situation has been resolved."

There was a loud clang as Joker was swung into the cage, after Damian expertly hogtied him and tied him to the end of the rope off of Marinette's grappling hook, and released at the maximum height. The door clanged shut with the force of Joker landing in it.

Marinette snorted, "That's going to hurt in the morning!" She called out to Damian.

He snorted, hiding his laughter as he continued swinging across the room. 

Alfred frowned at the noise, "And you are sure it has been resolved?"

"Completely." Marinette assured with an assuring smile, "We'll be sure to tell you all about it in person. For the moment, know that the situation is resolved."

Alfred blinked in surprise, before smiling. "Thank you, Miss Marinette. We will be on our way there soon."

"I will see you later then." She replied gently with a mirroring smile as Alfred hung up.

She stood up and walked forward and waited for Damian to descend a pile of crates, the grappling hook and chain looped and resting on his shoulder.

“How’d it go?” He asked.

She shrugged, “Well enough. Monsieur Alfred answered and they’re on the way, and it seemed like they were calling the police too.”

He nodded, “Thanks for doing that Marinette,” He paused and looked up at the cage, “For doing all of this.”

She smiled and shrugged, “Well, what are friends for?”

“By my knowledge, usually not this,” He looked back at her and smiled, “This is more the civic duty of Best Friends.”

She snorted, “Alright, you got me there.”

He nodded, a small proud smirk dancing across his features before he turned to look at the computer monitors Joker had set up, still streaming the various rooms in his home.

He walked over and plucked his copper pipe off the ground before taking a seat at the computer and began typing furiously, “Have you still got my phone?” He called over his shoulder.

Marinette blinked in surprise, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure, here.” She walked over and put it down next to Damian who began flipping his attention from his phone to the computer - covered in text code - and back, “What are you doing?”

“Redirecting the outlet of these cameras. I don’t trust the Gotham police evidence lockup with tapes of my house, but if I just disconnect them we may not be able to find them all and if any are left someone might be able to hack them. So I am redirecting all of the input of the cameras to my phone so I can find and disable them later.” He paused, “And if I can secure the network I may lend them to Dick to get some better angles for the reactions to his pranks. Or I can set them up in my room and monitor my pets when I am absent. They could have a great many personal uses.”

Marinette blinked in surprise and knelt beside the chair, leaning on the arm rest and watched the screens with intrigue, though she still noted how Damian’s body tensed for a second and his hands stilled before he continued, “That’s very clever.”

He looked over to her briefly, before quickly looking away again to regain his focus, "Not really. Any of my brother's could do it, and they're all idiots."

"Am I an idiot?"

His gaze snapped to her, green eyes wide with horror, "No! Of course not!"

"Well, I couldn't do this." She looked to him purposely, "It is very clever and admirable for you to have that skill."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times to try and retort, but eventually just turned back to the computer and his phone. 

It was a few minutes before he replied, "Thank you, Marinette. Sometimes… I forget."

"Forget how amazing you are?" She asked, and his silence was answer enough. She smiled softly, standing softly to round the chair a little and hug him from behind (which wasn’t hard, the top half of the backrest was missing from what Marinette suspected was a sword slicing clean through it), "I'll just have to keep reminding you then."

He paused, a little tense, and she was about to pull back when his hand suddenly gripped hers softly, before going back to work. She smiled, leaning her chin against his shoulder to continue watching her friend type at a speed even Markov would envy. After several minutes of this, accompanied by little noises of annoyance when something didn't do what he wanted it to, he finally pressed escape and the code disappeared to show the static input the computer was receiving. 

"Ok, they're mine now,” He paused for a minute before twisting slightly to look at Marinette who twisted in kind to meet his gaze. He was silent for a very long moment, debating something, “Do you want to break the monitors with me?”

She blinked at him, startled, “What?”

“I know, technically, it’s illegal and I should lead a better example… but I kind of want to break something that would piss Joker off later down the track, you know?”

A slow grin spread across her face as a recent lesson in self care her ‘Aunty Harlz’ had been trying to teach her came to mind. 

“ Sometimes, kiddo, when people hurt you, you just got to go bat-shit crazy and break some noses. No punishment if you just need an outlet. Just consider keying a dude’s car before you want to face assault charges, ‘k?”

“I would love to break something the Joker owns right about now. He hurt you, and he deserves some sort of reprimand beyond just jail time.”

Damian smiled brightly, and sighed in relief, “Oh, good, ok.”

“Let me get my new bat,” She grinned and dashed off, retrieved it, and sprinted back to stop beside Damian’s side. 

Damian paused for a second, “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

They grinned at each other and swung.