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woooooooooEEEE
The low long whistle from down the hall was faint but recognisable, bringing a faint smile to Damian as he whittled back. EEEEooooooooow.
The door opened slowly, and closed softly as the young woman entered his room, before arching back into a backbend. Damian stood from where he was sitting before doing the same and looking at her.
“We’re both upside down,” he noted.
“And I bet you’re going to fall down first.”
“Tt. No you will.”
“Will I now?” she asked, swiping lightly at Damian’s hand’s. The young boy dodged her blows, but lost his balance in the meantime, falling out of it. “I told you.”
“You do not play fair.”
“Life will not play fair with you. I’m simply helping to prepare you for it. You turn 10 soon. Big changes are coming for you.”
“How do you know?”
She smiled, righting herself, and offering a hand to help Damian up.
“Call it intuition. And when has it ever been wrong?”
—-----------------------------------
The box sitting on the table next to the mail that morning, addressed in a delicate script that pulled at old memories of Damian’s, was unobtrusive. Waiting for him among the other letters addressed to the Manor. Damian looked at it for a moment, wondering who might have sent him something.
He walked right past it the first time on his way out of the house before circling back to pick it up. Curious to what he may have received in the mail, and even more so why it would be coming from Budapest of all places, placing it in his bag.
He’d barely made it to school before being stopped. Damian tensed as he looked at the obstructor, now holding his backpack. One of the League.
“Your mother and grandfather send their regards.”
“I send them mine as well.”
Damian glared at the assassin, not hesitating in going onto the offense, blocking attack after attack, at the advantage being slightly more willing to injure and maim the other. He ripped the backpack from the assassin’s hands, ripping the zipper.
The zipper on Damian’s backpack flew open, the package sitting in there landing and breaking free from the cardboard a locked jewelry box flew out. Damian wasted no time, embedding a shuriken deep into the assassin’s achilles tendon, scooped up the box and was off.
Once back at the manor, he threw the box in a duffel bag, and started throwing some clothes, weapons and spare uniform into the bag, zipping it up, leaving his room and running straight into Richard.
His older brother took one look at Damian’s appearance and the duffel bag, before raising a brow.
“Where are you going?”
“Budapest.”
“Why?”
“I need to investigate. I have something the League wants. I need to figure out what’s so special about it.”
“Investigate what?”
“Tt. That is none of our business.”
“Fine but I’m coming with you.”
“No you are not.”
“Too late. Let’s go.”
“Richard, no. This has nothing to do with you.”
“You’re my little brother. I’m going. Unless you want to explain to Bruce why you’re flying to Budapest on a Tuesday instead of sitting in class.”
Damian looked at his brother letting out a deep breath. “Very well.”
—-----------------------------------
Damian stood in front of the doors, quickly trying to pick the locks.
“I know you are out there,” the voice that came through the door was muffled, but the French accent was still discernible as it stopped him in his tracks.
“I know you know I’m out here,” he said, tucking his lock picks away and drawing his sword. Opening the door open slowly, he checked the main foyer, pushing the door shut with his foot.
“Then why are you skulking about like it’s a minefield?”
Damian kept his sword up, moving from doorway to doorway, checking for her or any sight of her or any traps.
“Because I don’t know if I can trust you.”
She chuckled. “Funny, you know I was going to say the same thing.”
“So, are we going to talk like grown ups?”
He stepped around the corner into the living room as she moved to meet him, mirroring each other.
“Is that what we are?”
Damian moved forward as she moved back, neither breaking eye contact or wavering as the distance between the two remained the same. She gave a small nod towards his sword as she retreated.
“Put it down before I make you.”
“You put yours down.” Damian shot back, softly, as she stumbled slightly, moving into the kitchen. “Watch your step.”
She gave a soft chuckle, corners of her mouth turning up for a split second. The two came to a stop, sword tips nearly touching as they stood apart. Damian made the first move, binding and pushing her sword out of the in an attempt to grab the guard of hers and disarm her. She grabbed his hand, pushing it away as she kicked his sword hand, disarming the both of them. Lunging forward she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close, swinging him under her arms so she was behind him and drove him into the doorway. Pulling him back and throwing him into the opposite side of the doorway right after, placing one hand on each of his shoulders.
Damian grabbed her upper arm with on hand, and her chin with the other, and pushed, steering her back, lifting her up and slamming her into the cabinet, before dropping her down onto the counter, as she pushed some space between them briefly as Damian readjusted his grip, pushing her down so she was laying on the countertop. Avoiding her feet and arms as she tried to hit him.
“Stay down. Stay down. Stay Down !” He pressed.
She screamed, grabbing a plate from the sink and smashing it over his head, causing him to stumble back, taking advantage of his distraction to stand, grabbing a dish towel and whipping it towards him.
Damian caught it. With a yank he pulled her closer, grabbing the dish towel and wrapping it around her neck and pulling her back to the counter. She brought her foot up, pressing off the counter, leaning back, and throwing Damian through the air and into the door. He bounced off, slamming into the ground. She rolled into a crouch, looking at him.
Damian picked himself up as she stood. Moving back she grabbed a knife from a container next to the sink, and started towards him. He shook his head, retreating slightly into the living room and grabbing a heavy duty stapler off the desk.
She charged, swiping the knife at him. Once. Twice. He ducked out of the way both times. Third attack he swung the stapler in a counter attack. The two blocking the other’s attack. She pushed, moving him back, disengaging from their bind, and swiping at his stomach. He pulled away, as she locked his arm in hers. The two looked at each other for a second before she twisted, throwing him down onto the ground. He landed on his back rotating and kicking her feet out from underneath her. She came up to kneeling, swiping once more with the knife, Damian, hitting the back of her hand with the stapler, disarming her, before letting the stapler fly.
Wrapping his arm around the back of her head and standing. She gripped his chin, both yanking and pushing the others head back. She pushed, breaking his hold on her and grabbed him around the middle, picking him up. Ramming him into the wall. He ripped the curtain off the window as she backed up and moved, slamming him against the wall again.
He wrapped the curtain around her neck, vaulting over her shoulders and landing as she grabbed the other end of the curtain and got it around his neck. He pulled, throwing her over his leg onto the ground, with aid of the curtain, as she tugged, pulling him down with her. The two pulled, bracing one foot on the other to try and gain leverage against the other. Straining.
“Stop,” he whispered. She continued to pull, not relenting as her face continued to grow red. Damian furrowed his brows.
“ Hudna. Trêve ,” he said softly, calling a truce. Looking her in the eyes, he gently let go of the curtain showing his hands were off and pulled them back.
She rolled over, gasping for air, pulling the curtain away from her neck as she regained her breath.
“You’ve grown up.”
She looked at him for a moment, pulling the curtain off her neck as she stood.
“No shit. So have you,” she replied walking away into the kitchen.
“You had to come to Budapest didn’t you?”
She looked over at him as she pulled out a bottle and two shot glasses.
“I came here because I thought you wouldn’t,” she replied, pulling open the bottle. “But since you’re here, what bullet does that?” she asked, gesturing towards the holes in the wall. Damian turned to look at them
“Not bullets. Batarangs.”
“Ah, right.”
She poured the shots, downing one as Damian placed the jewelry box and photograph onto the table.
“If you didn’t think I’d come here, why’d you send me this?”
“You brought it back here?” she asked, slamming the glass down and pushing past him out of the kitchen, making her way swiftly into another room. Damian followed her, pocketting the picture once more as he left.
“I’m not here trying to be your friend, but you need to tell me what that is.”
“It is a jewelry box. The tethers for miniature gods called kwamiis. The jewels allow the kwamiis to transform the wearer granting them with powers in accordance to their abstract concept.”
“Maybe in English next time?”
“Magic jewelry gives mystical powers.”
“Tt. Real mature.”
“Why don’t you take it to one of your magical Justice League friends? They can explain it to you. John Constantine, maybe?”
“We don’t really talk most of the time.”
“Great. Perfect. Where’s a magic user when you need one?” she muttered, pulling clothing out of a wardrobe and shoving it into a bag. Damian glared at her.
“I don’t want to be here. I was in school. You could have gotten me killed.”
“Well, what was I supposed to do? You're the only vigilante person that I know. That’s the whole reason why I sent it to you,” she said, straightening. “I kept checking the news hoping to see that “The Batman takes down hidden Assassin League” listed among the headlines.”
She walked away, swiping her katana and sheathing it, kicking Damian’s over towards him.
“Come on. We’ve got to go,” she told him, snatching the jewelry box up off the table and shoving it into her bag as the faint scritch against the lock could be heard. “Don’t they think to check the door first,” she asked softly, shaking her head as she ducked out the window and onto the fire escape. She didn’t wait for him before taking off.
“Where are we going?”
“East side of the building. Three blocks down.”
“I am closer. Next left. Two blocks”
She shook her head a little before relenting to his directions, picking up the pace as one of the assassins began following.
“Go,” she hissed, turning and throwing a knife with deadly accuracy, dropping the assassin.
She caught up to him easily, coming to a stop above a small alleyway. Damian frowned looking down at the four assassins surrounding his brother.
“Tt. Richard is in need of help.”
“Richard?”
“Father’s eldest ward. Refused to let me go alone.”
“Replaced me so easily? I’m hurt,”she said before dropping down, landing on the assassin behind Richard. Damian watched for a moment before dropping down behind her, helping her and Richard take down the few assassins around them.
“Friend of yours, Dami?”
“Yes. From back before I came to live with father.”
The last assassin dropped at her hands before she spun to face the two of them.
“Which one is yours?”
“Left. Blue car,” Damian replied, moving with her.
“Wait- You can’t drive-” Richard’s protests were cut short as Marinette held up his keys and slid into the driver's seat. “When-”
“You can’t just steal a guy’s car,” Damian said softly, trying to hide his amusement.
“I’m not. I’m taking your brother’s car. And he’s in the passenger seat now,” she replied, taking off as soon as Richard closed the door.
She looked over at him for a second as she weaved through the traffic, a small smile gracing her lips. “So you’re my replacement?”
“Replacement?”
“Damian never spoke of me?”
“I can’t say he has.”
“I was his caretaker back in the League. A pseudo older sister,” she told him with a small wink.
“And does said caretaker have a name?”
“Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”
“Nice to meet you Marinette. I’m Dick. It’s nice to meet someone from his past who isn’t Talia or Ra’s al Ghul.”
“And you as well. It is nice to see someone has been taking care of Damian in my absence.”
“I do not need a caretaker.”
“Oh I think you do. After all, you came all the way to Budapest because of a package I sent.”
“I’m sorry you sent me magical jewelry with no note which the League desperately seems to want. Pardon me for trying to get some answers.”
“Answers you were meant to get from someone else such as John Constantine. Not me.”
“And how was I supposed to know that?”
“Your father is ‘The World’s Greatest Detective’ or whatnot. I would expect you to investigate before charging straight to Budapest.”
“Would either of you like to catch me up on what’s happening?”
“No but I would love to know where to drop the two of you off.”
“You aren’t coming with us?”
“And bring the League closer? No thank you.”
“Airfield on the outskirts of the city,” Damian spoke up from the back seat, arms crossed. “And you will be coming with us.”
“I’m not going to, Damian,” she replied before cursing softly under her breath and turning in the opposite direction they wanted.
“The airfield is the other way-”
“It’s not safe.”
“What do you mean it’s not safe?”
“It’s not safe. I don’t know call it my intuition. One of us will most likely end up fatally injured that way. The other two not much better. We’ll go this way, sneak in around the back.”
“Marinette-”
“When has it ever failed you Damian?”
Damian huffed, looking out the window as she drove. She and Dick idly chatted while she drove, Dick pulling some laughs out of Marinette every so often.
Eventually they made it into the airfield undetected. The three of them got out of the car, Damian seemingly vanished as Marinette shook her head, turning to Dick.
“It was a pleasure to meet you Dick. Damian seems to have disappeared into the plane,” she said looking around. “Tell him it was nice to see him again. I’ll miss him but you look like you’re doing a pretty good job of keeping him out of too much trouble.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
“I shouldn’t. It’s to-” her sentence was cut short as she crumpled to the ground, Dick lunging forward to catch her as Damian stood over her.
“What the hell, Damian?”
“She is coming with I have questions and it will be safer for her. Besides, she’s the one who taught me how to do that. She’ll be proud more than anything else.”
Dick shook his head. “You're not serious.”
“I am. Hurry up. The League will be here sooner than later and we need to be gone by then.”
Dick frowned at his little brother as he scooped Marinette, and brought her into the jet, making sure she was safe before the small group took off towards Gotham.
—-----------------------------------
“Grayson I forbid you from flirting with her.”
“Oh we’re back to Grayson now?’
“That is my sister. I will not allow you to debauche her.”
“ Pseudo sister,” Marinette spoke up as she entered the room. “Dick is more than welcome to debauche me if he so wishes.”
“How are you feeling?” Dick asked.
“As if I just had my own move used against me. Well executed. Could have done it a bit harder, caused some pain upon waking, but not bad. Never had it used against me before.”
Dick just blinked at the small interaction between the two as Marinette started rummaging through their fridge, emerging with a juice box and punching the straw into it as she leaned against the counter.
“So. I opened the jewelry,” she started.
“And?”
“I’m now it’s Guardian apparently so that’s fun. I get to protect the tiny chaotic little gods from falling into the hands of people like Ra’s. Something I didn’t particularly want but I suppose I signed myself up for anyway.”
She took a deep sip of her juice box, tossing it in the trash before grabbing a new one, opening it and letting out a breath.
“I am going to go talk to your father. Trying and pick his brain for some ideas and magical contacts he might be able to give me.”
She walked swiftly out of the kitchen leaving the two brothers alone.
“Steph is going to be pissed,” Dick said softly with a grin.
“Tt. Brown would stand no chance against Marinette,” Damian churlishly replied, falling into silence as he leaned, arms crossed back against the wall.
Dick moved, taking a seat a bit closer to where his brother was standing, the two of them just sitting in silence for a few minutes.
“You’re hoping she’ll stay in Gotham,” Dick observed. Damian gave him a soft glare, before lowering his head.
“She is the closest thing I ever had to a friend back in the League. Of course I don’t want her to leave,” he said softly.
“Have you told her this?”
“Tt. No. She was raised in the League, taken in after they killed her parents. I’m not going to hinder her first freedom of going to explore.”
“She cares about you. Still wants to look out for you.”
“No, Grayson.”
“Well, what if I married her?”
“You’re already my brother and I view her like a sister.”
“Well then I can be double the brother.”
The words had barely left his mouth before Damian was one him. Dick scrambled back dodging out of the way, barely managing to avoid his youngest brother’s ire.
“Damian. Stop trying to kill Dick,” Marinette’s voice rang out, Bruce towering behind her, as the two watched, barely hidden amusement on their faces.
“How long have you two been standing there?” Dick asked.
“Since you proposed marriage.”
Dick’s face turned bright red as he glanced away. Marinette’s light laughter echoing through the room as she moved, pressing a light kiss to his cheek.
“While I do find you attractive, let’s slow it down a notch, hmm?”
“I think I can make that work.”
“What is with my family and assassins?” Bruce muttered softly, watching the two of them, before speaking up. “Marinette will be staying with us for the time being as we figure out more about the Miraculi and her new found duties as Guardian, while helping her to adjust to life outside the League.”
Dick grinned, while Marinette looked over at Damian, giving a slight nudge with her head, before leading him out of the room. The two moved in silence, through and up the house til they found themselves out on the roof. Marinette sat down, hooking her legs over the peak of the roof, so she lay upside. She looked over with a small grin. Damian shook his head, joining her in that position.
“We’re both upside down.”
“So we are.”
“I am not going to be the first to fall this time.”
“I’d be disappointed if you were. How about we see if neither of us fall this time?”
“Tt. Fine,” he agreed, a small smile forming.
The tow sat there, upside down for a few minutes before Marinette spoke up, looking over at him.
“You no longer kill?”
“I do not. Not really since I joined Father. Though I will not guarantee I won’t stab someone,” he confirmed.
She gave him a small smile. “I’m glad to hear that. You seem happier here. Far better than you ever were in the League.”
“What about you? This is your first time free from the League, isn’t it.”
“It is. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t odd. Though I am excited to explore some of my own interests for the first time.”
“I am glad you will be staying with us.”
“Me too, Damian. Me too. Not the happiness that you relied on kidnapping but impressed anyway. You’ve grown.”
Damian gave a small laugh before studying her for a moment.
“You aren’t really going to date Grayson are you?”
She laughed. “I fully intend to if he is up to it. Which his suggestion of marriage from earlier would seem to imply he is.”
“I forbid it.”
“You can’t forbid me, Dami. I thought you’d be happy. Then I’d officially be your sister and not just a caretaker.”
Damian’s protest fried in his throat as he thought about what she and Richard had said.
“I suppose that’s true. But Richard really?”
“What can I say? He’s handsome. Speaking of Dick- where is your brother. I want to try going on a first date-” she cut her sentence off short, unhooking her knees and sliding down the roof, flipping off elegantly as Damian moved to give a lighthearted attack. She landed softly, looking up at him with a grin. “You are going to need to do better than that, Dami, if you intend to stop me,” she called up. “Maybe you are getting rusty after all.”
Damian furrowed his brows as he unhooked his knees, sliding down the roof after her, landing as she took off, her light laughter echoing as she disappeared into the grounds, Damian not far behind her.
Bruce smiled as he looked out the window at the two. His son, clearly determined in chasing down an old friend, was possibly the most relaxed he’d seen him be in a while. He turned away from the window as a low long whistle was heard through the grounds. It’s inverse answering right behind.