Chapter Text
Panem was terrible as usual, at least in Damian’s perspective. Everyone assumed that since he was from District 2 that he was stuck up, arrogant, Capital loving, ruthless, and apathetic. If his mother had her way, he would be. Still, he managed to keep his head. Something about being taught to kill at such a young age felt inherently wrong.
His grandfather was a notorious winner, killing almost every child within the first 48 hours. It was the most brutal and shortest Hunger Games to ever be broadcasted to Panem. His mother was never chosen for the games, which to most would seem lucky but for Talia this was a reason for outrage and resentment. She saw Bruce win his Hunger Games and a few years later made a point to seduce the man. He was rich, cunning, smart, and a winner. Perfect for her purposes. One night of passion and 12 years later, Damian stood at the doorstep of his father’s mansion.
His mother made train with Peacekeepers, learn to effectively use every weapon, and climb mountains. The mountains were probably the hardest. As soon as he learned to walk, his mother forced him to climb. He fell and broke his wrist, but still reached the top because that was what was expected of him. He was Ra’s Al Ghul’s grandson. Due to this and his deadly nature, he was nicknamed Demon Prince, even amongst the adults he trained with. If he was ever put into the games, there was no doubt he’d be the victor.
Still, despite all of that, standing at the door of this building made him slightly apprehensive. Still, he showed no fear as his mother knocked on the door. “Remember why we’re here.”
“To warn him that I’ll be entering the games and to learn something from a former winner.”
“Good boy.” They could hear some footsteps running to the door and a large thud. The two looked at each other warily and their confusion only grew when a short, mixed-raced girl opened the door disheveled. She looked at the two, she was rubbing her head and her ponytails were a bit uneven from whatever fall she just took, but she smiled nonetheless.
“I’m sorry for the wait, who are you?” Her question was innocent enough, but Damian felt Talia tense beside him. Damian briefly wondered if his father even knew they were coming when he noticed the girl staring at him. She seemed to be in shock, the more she analyzed his features the more her eyes seemed to widen.
A man’s voice soon echoed in the room, “Marinette, what are you-” A large man with dark hair came into view and he froze as soon as he saw Damian’s mother. “Talia?”
“Bruce. There’s someone I want you to meet, love.” Talia pushed Damian forward and Marinette stepped out of the way, simply looking between the two.
“Talia, what is-”
“I assure you, he is yours.”
Bruce just blinked and examined Damian while Damian simply put a hand on his hip. His expression showed that he was unimpressed, “Don’t look so surprised father. I thought you’d be taller.”
A snort coming from the girl by the door seemed to immediately break the tension. Damian looked back and raised an eyebrow and Marinette coughed to regain her composure. She motioned for Talia to enter, “I’m sorry. I’m sure you all have a lot to talk about. Please, come in.”
Now it was Talia’s turn to send Bruce a confused look, clearly referring to Marinette and Bruce just sighed, “We have a lot to discuss Talia.”
“It would seem so, love.” Bruce motioned for her to follow him and before Damian could do the same, Talia held out her hand. “The adults are talking, Damian. We’ll find you once we’re done.”
He watched Bruce’s neutral expression falter into somewhat of a scowl before he turned to Marinette, “Go introduce him to Alfred and the others. We’ll be out soon.”
Marinette nodded, “Okay.” She turned to Damian and bounced in place, “They’ll be so excited!”
“Who is ‘they’ exactly?”
Marinette grinned and grabbed the boy’s hand, “Come on! It’ll just be better to show you! I think they’re in the gym!” Damian wanted to pull away, but her grip was tight and he needed her to guide him. He didn’t know his father’s relationship with this girl, but clearly she was welcomed here so he had to make sure he made a good impression.
She led him through some corridors and soon he started to hear some shouting and about eight other voices. A mix of men and women and he wondered just how many people his father had living with him in this house. Marinette watched him as she pushed the doors open and he came to an unusual sight. It certainly was a big gym, almost as big as the training grounds for the Peacekeepers in District 2, and people were scattered around. A blonde and a redhead were cheering on another girl as she threw axes in a simulation. Two men wrestled while one seemed to be a referee. And lastly, an older man talked to the only calm young man in the room. They seemed to be the only two sane ones. For some reason, they all looked familiar.
Then the girl beside him screeched, “HEY, BRUCE BROUGHT HOME ANOTHER ONE!” Damian glared at the girl as he made sure his eardrums were still intact, but everyone else in the room froze. The girls stopped the simulation, the men stopped wrestling and picked themselves up off the mat, and the two other men stopped talking. All eyes were on him. Marinette shoved him forward and motioned him to walk further into the room. Damian simply took a few steps in and nodded politely to the group.
The room erupted.
“What the hell?”
“Was he a winner?”
“Last year?”
“Wasn’t last year’s winner 15?”
“He’s not 15?”
“No way, he’s a fucking baby! Look at him!”
“Jason, seriously?”
The only one not to cause an immediate outcry was the old man. He simply walked up, looked him up and down, and hummed, “You’re the spitting image of your father. What’s your name?”
“Damian Wayne.”
Everyone screamed, “WHAT?”
The old man ignored the chaos behind him and bowed, “Alfred Pennyworth. At your service Master Damian.”
Damian politely bowed back and looked at the group still bickering, “Are they the rest of the servants?”
The shortest man looked over and scrunched up his nose, “Servants? Oh, no, no, no, no. We’re your family.” Damian blinked and his eyebrows shot straight up. He knew his father was a bit of a playboy back in the day, but this was ridiculous. The man seemed to read his mind because he soon added, “Adopted, Damian. We’re all adopted.”
Marinette came up beside him and started pointing, “That one there is Dick. He’s the oldest and he’s originally from District 4.” The man smiled and saluted Damian.
“That one there is Barbara, District 2.” The redhead smiled and nodded.
“Jason, District 8.”
He smirked, “Jason Todd. Get it memorized.”
Marinette rolled her eyes, “Tim, District 3.” The shortest shrugged and awkwardly waved.
“Stephanie, District 5.” The blonde girl sent over a bright smile and a more enthusiastic wave.
“Duke, District 6.” The other calm man nodded and smiled.
“And Cass, District 7.” The one holding the axe waved it as if it was her hand.
Damian nodded, “Damian Wayne. District 2.”
Stephanie perked up, “I’m sorry, but are you a winner?”
“A winner?”
“A winner. Victor. Of the games?” Damian blinked and then it all hit him. They were all former victors. He watched their games at least once each as research. The lack of response must’ve been enough of an answer, “Oh jeez, he didn’t know.”
Dick rubbed the back of his neck and walked up to Damian, “Look, Damian. We aren’t going to hurt you or anything like that. I know, it’ scary being with… us, but-”
“So do you all still remember how to fight?”
No one was expecting that. “I’m sorry?”
“Damian.” Everyone looked back saw Talia and Bruce standing in the doorway. Bruce’s scowl front and center.
Jason spoke up first, “You’ve only been here like 15 minutes and you already pissed him off? Nice!”
Bruce sent a quick glare Jason’s way before turning his attention back to Damian. “We should talk.”
Damian didn’t care for his tone. “About?”
Talia walked over and put a hand on her son’s shoulder, “He is going.”
“No, he’s not.”
“I don’t think that’s for you to decide.”
Barbara walked over to Bruce’s side and looked between the two, “Going where? He just got here.”
Bruce didn’t take his eyes off of Talia. He knew better. “Talia here tells me Damian is volunteering for the next Hunger Games.”
The air in the gym quickly shifted and there was a heavy silence until a flying axe flew across the room, barely missing Talia and hitting the far wall. Cass yelled, “Like hell he is!”
“Damn right, you can’t do that to a kid! That’s fucked up!” More cries of protest came from all around them, but Talia didn’t even falter. Damian was surprised that Marinette was one of the only ones who didn’t say anything. She just stared at him, in shock or in pity was anyone’s guess. Instead, she bit her lip and, weirdly enough, he could feel her concern for him. It felt bittersweet.
“Talia-”
“Damian, tell your father what you want.”
Damian straightened up and, in a demanding voice while pointing at Dick, yelled, “I want to win. Like he did! Like you did! Like they all did!” He frowned, “I want to win.” Talia smiled at her son, but there was no warmth behind it.
Bruce just bit the inside of his cheek and glared at Talia. She simply smirked, “By the time of the next reaping, Damian will be twelve and therefore eligible for the games. If ‘luck’ should have it, he will be chosen. Trust me, as Ra’s Al Ghul’s grandson, the odds will most definitely be in his favor.” Talia’s tone oozed arrogance and poison. Bruce knew even if Damian did decide not to go, Ra’s power runs too deep. His name will be pulled, no matter what.
Bruce pursed his lips together, “Kids.” Everyone turned to Bruce as he narrowed his eyes at Talia, “We’re going to start Damian’s training. Tim and Steph, assess him. Dick, Barbara, Duke, start setting up challenges. Jason and Cass, get ready to fight.”
Talia raised an eyebrow and Bruce narrowed his eyes at the woman, “I know you, Talia. You want me to train him? Fine, but only because he’s my son and he will live with me after he’s won.”
“And what makes you say that?”
“You gave him my last name, for one. I think I have a bit of power here.”
Talia smirked and nodded, she’d never admit she missed their banter. She turned to Damian and kissed his forehead, “Train well. You’re in good hands. I’ll be there for the reaping.” He nodded and they all watched as she left the room.
Barbara growled, “Bitch.”
Bruce looked around, “What are you waiting for? He wants to be part of the games, let’s make sure he doesn’t get himself killed.”
The kids all looked hesitant but still left to set up everything. Bruce glared at his son before it morphed into a look of pity. He sighed and began talking to Alfred.
Damian bit his lip, wondering what exactly this training would entail when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked over to find Marinette watching him with concern, “Yes?”
“Are you sure? Is this really what you want?”
Damian nodded and looked over at everyone working around the gym, “I’m going in the games whether I like it or not. I’m expected to win.”
“But is it what you want?”
“I want to prove my worth.”
She paused for a bit before sighing, “I don’t think you need to be a winner for people to see your worth.”
Damian blinked and turned his attention back to her, “Who are you anyway?”
She pursed her lips, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. District 9. I had a friend in District 8 who sent me spare fabric and my designs caught the attention of some people in the capital. After some hopping around with different projects, I ended up here as a designer for Barbara. She’s going to be a mentor for the District. It probably means she’s your mentor. She wanted to look good in front of everyone in the capital.”
“So you want to be a stylist?”
“I want my work to be enjoyed by people who value it.” Her answer caught him off guard, but what caught him more off guard was how young she looked.
“How old are you?”
“I’ll be twelve in a month.”
“You’ll be in the next reaping too, then.”
“I’m terrified.”
“It’s highly unlikely that you’d be selected your first year. Your name is only entered once the first time around.”
“You don’t get it.” Damian waited for her to continue and he watched as her eyes start to water, “Luck is all I have. If there’s a one in a million chance for something, I’m usually that one. Good or bad, it happens. I have a really bad feeling this year and I just-”
“You’re jumping to conclusions.”
“Am I?” She was looking to him for reassurance.
They stared at each other for a moment and when he opened his mouth to say something, Dick’s voice carried across the room. “Hey!” The two looked over and he was standing beside a wall of weapons, “Pick your poison. Training starts now, hotshot.”
Damian nodded and before he could move, he felt Marinette reach out and squeeze his arm slightly before letting him go. Damian cursed under his breath. Her ‘bad feeling’ was contagious, at least that’s what he told himself.