Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Little mouse, perhaps it is time we have that talk we’ve put on hold.”

“Actually, because I’m pretty sure this is going to end in potentially giving Ange a sibling, I think we all should talk,” Adrien cuts into the growing tension between the couple, causing both Damian and Marinette to look away awkwardly, a blush staining Marinette’s cheeks. “If Damian is going to live here-”

“Wait, what?” The man in question speaks up.

“You…are going to live here, aren’t you?” A hint of vulnerability appears in Adrien’s eyes before he covers it with a valid excuse, “Marinette can’t go back to Gotham. And…I don’t think you should live there either, Dames…” he trails off, letting his concern through.

Damian pauses, taking a moment to truly consider what Adrien said. Despite covering it, Damian caught the moment of weakness his brother had, as well as a brief flash of fear of abandonment that had traveled through their bond, surprising him. But his cover-ups were also valid points. Damian can’t take Marinette and Ange to Gotham. Between her supposed death, his lack of trust in his father’s children, and his mother potentially looking for the little family there, Gotham isn’t a safe place for them. And…Adrien had a point. Damian doesn’t think returning would be good for him either. He wants to be with his family above all else, but he also wants to be surrounded by people he trusts.

“I think you’re right,” he finally answers.

A flash of shock dances across Adrien’s face and down the bond between the brothers.

“Also, I think the bonds may have some…minor complications,” Damian continues with a slight grimace. “It’s not constant, and I’m hoping there’s a way to block it out, but I’ve felt a few flashes of emotions from Adrien just in this conversation. And before you take that the wrong way because your self-worth is shit, I just don’t think you’ll want to feel it when Marinette and I are, as you put it, ‘potentially giving Ange a sibling.’”

“I- Yeah, that’s a pretty valid concern. So,” he claps twice, taking on an overly cheerful tone. “Let’s talk roommate boundaries because we just got over a week-long magical flu and I’m not in the mood to confront more of that right now.”

Marinette and Damian share an exasperated look but allow him to switch topics.

“Our soundproofing is pretty good, but as you probably caught from Marinette’s nightmare after she got her memories back, screams can and will make themselves known to other occupants in the house. So, if you’re going to be loud, please give some warning so I can take Ange and leave. That or find a way to magically soundproof because neither of us want to hear you go at it. That’s traumatizing.”

“Shut up, Adrien,” Marinette rolls her eyes. “But yes, those seem like reasonable boundaries. Anything else you’re concerned about?”

“Cape business stays away from Ange as much as possible.”

“We’re not imbeciles, akhi. We discussed this back when we first found out Marinette was pregnant. We intend to keep Ange away from capes as much as possible. If we must disclose our identities, we will, but we have no intention of allowing him to fight anytime soon. We all know what it’s like to grow up as child soldiers. While I believe Ange should have some self-defense training when he’s old enough to understand, especially because I’m high profile and don’t want him to be kidnapped unprepared, that doesn’t mean he needs to go through anything that we did.”

Completely ignoring Damian’s explanation, Adrien chooses to focus on what Damian called him.

“Akhi?”

“…it’s brother in Arabic.”

A strong flash of emotion transfers between the two brothers as Adrien tears up and throws his arms around him. Damian focuses on projecting annoyance as much as he can, but his endearment for his brother lingers underneath.

“Woah,” Adrien grabs his chest as he pulls back from Damian. A spike of concern echoes between the bonds shared with both Damian and Marinette. “That’s trippy. It’s like… I feel things, but they aren’t my things.”

“I felt them, too,” Marinette adds, a bit wary, then looks up at Damian with a pout. “I guess our talk will have to wait a while until we figure this out.”

His lips quirk downward briefly before schooling into something fond as he changes his outlook. “Just means more to look forward to,” he drops a kiss onto her lips before turning back to their brother. “We’re in agreement that I’ll move here, but I don’t think I can do it right away. I don’t want to draw their attention here. I’ll move a little at a time. Is it okay if I bring Titus and Alfred the Cat…?” he trail off, a flash of grief echoing down his ties. “It’s been a rough two years. First Marinette, then Batcow passed, and Titus and Alfred…they don’t have much time left. I know we don’t have space for Goliath, but I want the others to meet Ange and to be settled with me when it’s time…” he trails off before he clears the emotions from his voice. “Besides, Goliath can always visit to meet Ange and then go back to Gotham. He’s not bound to one continent the way Titus and Alfred are.”

“Of course. We’d love to have them,” Adrien speaks.

“I’ll move them first, then. I…suppose I should also empty the apartment Marinette and I shared. I haven’t been there since before…”

Marinette’s arms wrap around her fiancé/soul-husband. “I may not be able to help you, but Adrien can. And you’ll have Ange and I here to welcome you both home.”

“Thank you, habibti.”

Alfred (the human) knocks on the door.

“Master Damian, I have put Master Ange down for his nap. In the meantime, I must return to the manor, lest the occupants decide to attempt digging into my whereabouts. They won’t succeed, but it will be a lot simpler to avoid the headache altogether. Master Jonathan has been covering for you this week, but I believe you should reach out to him soon regarding this matter.”

“Thank you for all your help, Mr. Pennyworth,” Marinette hugs him.

“It was my privilege, Miss Marinette,” he hugs back. He turns to Adrien next, “Master Adrien,  it was nice to see you again. I look forward to getting to know you as my grandson,” Alfred gives a knowing smile. Adrien sends another flash of emotion to his soulmates as he tears up again and throws himself at Alfred, who had just released Marinette.

“I look forward to knowing you as my grandfather, too,” he whispers tearfully into the older man’s coat, pulling back and wiping his eyes. “Geez, guys, is it gang-up-on-Adrien day? Everyone’s making me cry,” he laughs tearfully.

“We’ll work on that. You should not be crying every time someone says or shows they care for you,” Damian looks mildly concerned, gaining an eyeroll and a middle finger from the blond in return.

Alfred turns to Damian, “I suppose I shall see you soon, my boy. Is there anything you wish for me to get together ahead of your arrival?”

“No, thank you, Grandfather. I’m going to slowly move things over until it’s too late for them to question it.”

A brief hug is exchanged between the normally stoic pair, and Alfred makes his way out of their home.

“Magic feelings now? Or are we waiting until Damian is fully settled?”

“I want to wait, honestly. As much as it would be nice to know how to block it, while Damian is moving, I think it’s best if he can’t block us from knowing when he needs us,” Adrien replies, looking at Damian apologetically.

“While that is a breach of my privacy, I’ll allow it because I would do the same were I in your position.”

“Aww you love me!” Adrien says teasingly.

“Tt. Would I tie myself to someone I did not care for?” Damian rolls his eyes to hide his embarrassment, but the feeling still flashes down the bond, encouraging Adrien’s teasing.

“He admits it! Did you hear that Marinette?! Damian loves me!”

Marinette, to her credit, doesn’t betray her emotions externally apart from a twitch of her lips. Unfortunately for her, the bond lights up with her repressed laughter.

“Keep it up, little mouse. I’ll remember this when we have our talk.”

A flash of indistinguishable emotion lights up her end of their bonds. Adrien’s just thankful he didn’t feel whatever it was that she did.

“I can only guess at what that feeling was and be grateful that I couldn’t tell for sure, but please try not to feel it more because it’s just going to draw my curiosity, and this cat does not want to die by sibling-sex-life trauma.”

“Fuck off, kitty,” Marinette laughs, pushing him.

“No thanks. I don’t want to know what feeling that will send to your end,” he cringes.

A pause.

Marinette’s nose scrunches, “Yeah, you’re right. It’s not November, but please, No Nut.”

Damian face palms. “Children. I’m surrounded by children.”

Without even glancing at each other, the two Parisians stick their tongues out in unison.

“That just proves my point,” he deadpans.

Their banter is interrupted by Ange’s whining as he wakes from his nap, though Damian gets in one last shot.

“I’m going to go check on the actual child while you two pull yourselves together.”

They flip off his back as he walks away to check on his son, a grin on his face as he stops to say over his shoulder, “Oh, and you can’t work until we have the magic sorted out either, habibti.”

--

The next few weeks flash by, Marinette begrudgingly agreeing not to work until everything’s sorted out and Damian spending more time in the house than not despite his frequent trips back to Gotham to retrieve his belongings. While he’s primarily using the private jet and the zeta tubes to get between the two continents, Kaalki assists him in bringing over Alfred the Cat and Titus, their age showing in the way they move and the gauntness of their faces. The moment they recognize Marinette, he sees them the most energetic they’ve been in months, bringing tears to his eyes.

Marinette crouches down to greet her former companions.

“Hello, my good boys,” she coos, her fingers buried in their fur as she hugs them and pets them. “I’ve missed you. Thank you for holding on until I returned,” she smiles sadly.

She looks up at Damian as she pets them, Adrien having left to get Ange. Her hands glow softly in their fur, though she doesn’t notice. Damian, however does. The green glow of the Lazarus Pits instantly drawing his eye.

“Marinette.”

She turns to look at the animals at his tone, a bit concerned, only to see them both looking younger and healthier than before. The glow of her hands causes her to yank them back, though they retain the Lazarus glow. The very center of her palms glows pink, previously hidden in their fur, but that does nothing to dispel the growing fear.

“I-” she freezes, a bit panicked. “I don’t- Damian, what did I do?”

As much as he wants to comfort her, he’s frozen by the glare of the pits. His mind is a turmoil of flashbacks and fear of what will happen should he touch her while she’s glowing.

Feeling the cocktail of worry-panic-fear from his soulmates, Adrien sets Ange back down, instructing the kwamis to protect him, and runs to where he left the others. He freezes as he takes in the scene before him. Younger animals, Damian watching Marinette warily, and Marinette looking at Adrien with tears in her eyes, her hands glowing.

“Adrien, get Tikki and Plagg,” Damian instructs, his eyes not leaving Marinette and their pets.

He runs back to the nursery, asking Kaalki and Wayzz to watch Ange in the meantime. Plagg and Tikki zip ahead of him to assess the situation. Adrien returns to the living room to find Tikki and Plagg touching the mind and hearts of the animals, just as they did when Marinette regained her memories.

“Well, at least we know what the Lazarus Pits did. You have healing abilities, bug. Always have, that’s how you could cast the cure when channeling Tikki, but the waters amplified them. They probably protected Ange through your pregnancy and remained dormant since then. My guess would be the triad bonding allowed them to finally surface,” Plagg explains.

Tikki continues, “Titus and Alfred are completely fine. Their memories are fully intact. They’ve just had their lifespans extended, though I don’t know for sure how much. A few years at least.”

“So Marinette’s safe to touch?” Damian asks, visibly holding himself back from running to her now that he’s processed.

“She should be, yes.”

“Why am I still glowing?” she asks, worried.

“It’s probably because you’re focused on it right now. The energy surfaced when you were thinking about the pain brought on by their old age and how little time you had with them. Now it lingers because you’re focused on it being there. If something distracts you, it should fade.”

Before she can ask anymore questions, a wave of relief crashes into her from her soulbonds and Damian throws himself down to her level, kissing her desperately. The glow diminishes almost immediately, her attention fully focused on the man devouring her.

When he finally pulls back, the two are breathless, lips kiss-swollen, and only aware of each other. He rests his forehead on hers, taking in the comfort of her presence and the immense relief that the color he associated with pain and his childhood wasn’t going to cause any harm.

Adrien clears his throat.

“You’re not a lightning bug anymore, Mar.”

Though that causes the light to be at the forefront of her mind again, the glow doesn’t return. Sensing her confusion, Tikki speaks up.

“The power will only return when it senses the need. When someone or something needs healing and you’re willing to grant it. Emphasis on willing and not coerced. If Talia were to kidnap you, the power would be functionally useless to her unless you actually wanted to heal her because of your own empathy and attachment. She can’t demand healing or use you like Mother Gothel used Rapunzel.”

The comparison draws a small laugh from the girl, and she relaxes in Damian’s arms, her concerns assuaged.

“Introducing Ange: Take Two?” Adrien pipes up. The two lovers on the floor grant him affirmative nods before focusing on the animals in front of them.

Damian kisses the side of her head, a tearful smile on his face as he whispers to her. “Thank you, habibti.”

She pecks his jaw in response before turning back to their companions, her hands back in their fur and a wide grin on her face. Adrien returns to the room with Ange in his arms, causing Alfred and Titus to wind around his legs. The blond laughs, carefully handing the boy to his parents and giving the two some affection before they turn to the new human.

“Titus, Alfred, this is our son, Ange,” Damian speaks up. Titus sniffs at the boy, his big head drawing a giggle from Ange, then licks his face. Alfred jumps into Ange’s lap, rubbing against the boy affectionately. The three adults share grins, their hearts full of warmth as they observe their newest housemates interact with Ange.

--

A few more weeks pass by, Damian updating Alfred on the pet situation and how much is left to move from the manor before Adrien joins him in packing up the apartment. Dick overhears the comment about packing up the apartment and grins, sneaking away before they notice him. He texts Jason and Tim to meet him in the library, intending to update them on the situation.

“What did you need, dickhead?”

“I think he’s finally getting over her!”

Tim side-eyes him in disbelief, “Didn’t he yell at us a few months ago about how he was refusing to get over her?”

“Yeah, but it’s been months! And I just heard him talking to Alfred about packing up their old apartment,” Dick grins smugly.

Jason whistles, “That’s a big step. He hasn’t been there since they…broke up…” The familiar guilt fills him when he remembers what they did, what he did. She was innocent. Fuck, she was pregnant. And he-

“Okay, but have you seen him recently? Like, apart from today? Because I haven’t seen him much, and his things are slowly vanishing,” Tim says, concerned. “Last week, his katana vanished from the cave. I haven’t seen Titus and Alfred the Cat in months. And his room looks emptier, too.”

“Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him much either. The few times I have, he’s been heading to…Paris.”

“Jas-”

“No, I’m serious. Check the zeta logs and flight history. He’s been spending a lot of time in Paris since he blew up on us.”

Tim quickly pulls the files up on his phone.

“He’s right, Dick.”

“So, what, he’s running away? Chasing a ghost? Living in delusion?”

“Why don’t we just ask?” Jason rolls his eyes, turning and walking out of the room, the other two men scrambling to follow.

“Yo! Demon spawn!”

Panic fills Damian, but he schools his features. He can feel the concern of his bonds across the ocean, which comforts him enough to respond.

“Todd,” he rolls his eyes. “What do you want?”

“We want to know why your stuff is vanishing and you keep running off to Paris.”

Dick smacks his shoulder, hissing, “What the fuck, Jay, why are you implicating us when this was your idea?”

Jason smacks him back, ignoring the question.

A fresh flash of panic sparks through Damian’s system, his mind going blank, and he says the first thing he can think of, “If you must know, I’ve been going to Paris to see Adrien. We’re dating.”

“You’re…dating Adrien?”

“Are you homophobic now, Drake?”

“I’m literally dating Kon and Bernard” Tim deadpans. “I just meant that it’s…a surprise. Not something we expected. Like, if you were to date someone, we would have expected Jon,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, how did this happen, Baby Bat?”

"We bonded when he kept sending me videos of an exotic dancer. He likes dancing and I'm exotic," Damian’s voice is flat.

All three of his brothers father’s other sons stare at him.

“Okay, no, what the actual fuck?”  Dick says in a pleasant tone, confused grin on his face.

A long-suffering sigh escapes his lips before Damian responds, digging himself a deeper hole but using the same shovel to hit them where it hurts, “We bonded over our loss of Marinette. But since you seem to want me to forget about her, I decided you would appreciate my sarcasm more. Now if you'll excuse me, my fiancée is waiting for me."

The first three Robins splutter, Tim choking on his coffee as Damian walks away.

“Fiancé?!”

Damian doesn’t respond as he walks away. He’s internally regretting the word choice, but he was focused on Marinette to keep himself calm. Yeah, she’s his soul-wife, but legally, she’s still his fiancée. Maybe we should have an actual wedding… Do her parents know she’s alive??? Regardless, he knows the heathens are going to make a thing out of this.

He stops into the kitchen to warn Alfred, whose eyes sparkle with amusement, before taking the zeta back to Paris. By the time he’s made it back to the house, he’s resigned himself to asking Adrien to help him bullshit his way through this.

“I’m home!”

“Baba!” Ange comes running towards him. Damian scoops him up and throws him in the air, drawing a squealing laugh from the boy, before kissing his head and setting him down.

“Where’s your uncle, Ange?”

“Kitty!”

“Yes, Uncle Kitty. Can you take me to Uncle Kitty?” He gives his hand to Ange, allowing the boy to guide him. Whether or not it’s in the correct direction is of no consequence. It just means Damian can put off the consequences of his actions a bit longer.

Unfortunately, Ange took him directly to Adrien. And Marinette.

“Hey, Damian!” Marinette stands, pecking his lips. “How did it go?”

“…Adrien and I are getting married.”

“I beg your finest fucking pardon?” The blond in question stares at him with raised eyebrows.

“Fuck!” Ange squeals, clapping.

“Adrien!” Marinette hisses at him, a wide-eyed glare aimed in his direction. “No, Ange. That’s a grown-up word.”

“Fuck!”

“No.”

Despite her attempts, her son just keeps shouting the f word. She sighs in resignation, sitting at the table while Ange carries on, only stopping when Adrien puts him in the highchair with some baby cereal.

Damian can’t decide whether he’s amused or irritated.

“You didn’t even propose,” Adrien pouts. Damian grabs a handful of Ange’s cereal and throws it at him.

“We’re not actually getting married, you dolt! You’re my brother!”

Ange takes example from his father and starts throwing cereal.

“Ange, no!” Marinette tries to stop the boy, irritated by the two men giving him poor examples. “Will both of you please be more mindful of your words and actions around the impressionable child?”

As the two mutter apologies, Marinette gives up, taking Ange out of the highchair and unfastening her shirt to breastfeed, gesturing for Damian to explain himself.

“We felt your panic, Dames, but I don’t think either of us expected you to be panicking about marrying me,” Adrien says, confused, before smirking, “Although, I am a catch.”

Making sure his son was distracted, Damian smacks Adrien up the backside of his head.

“Hey!”

Before they can begin squabbling, Marinette redirects them back to the topic at hand. “Damian, we need some elaboration here.”

“I was accosted by the three backstabbers. They noticed my stuff was missing and that I was spending a lot of time in Paris. I said the first thing that came to mind, which, unfortunately, was that I’m dating Adrien.”

Marinette gives him a flat look.

“This is the type of shit I expect out of Adrien’s mouth, not yours. How did you go from dating to engaged?”

“I was focusing on you to remain level-headed and carelessly told them my fiancée was waiting for me.” At Marinette’s raised brow, he expounds, “I know we’re married in our souls. But legally, we are not. Though I would like to correct that at some point.”

A blush covers her cheeks, “Proposing isn’t going to distract me from your apparent engagement, Dami.”

“That was not a proposal, habibti. That was a promise.”

Her blush deepens but she maintains her glare. “I don’t know whether to be irritated or amused.”

“Can I be disgusted?” Adrien queries. “I’m amused, and you’re attractive, don’t get me wrong, but dude. In the words of Anne-Marie, ‘You’re not my lover, more like a brother.’”

“I know it wasn’t my best choice, but I had to protect Marinette and Ange. I needed an excuse to be here, and dating you seemed like a good excuse.”

“So, you…what? Want me to fake date you?”

“It would only be if we have to interact with them.” He tacks on, “Think of it as trolling them. It makes the idea less repulsive.”

“Tap into the chaotic Black Cat energy. Smart move,” Adrien nods in respect. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it. For Marinette and Ange.”

“Thank you, akhi. And before you get annoyed, little mouse, remember that you gave me a fake fiancé first when we met. Perhaps I just took a page out of your book,” he smirks teasingly, getting a smack to his arm before she pulls Ange off to begin burping him.

“Speaking of your fake fiancé, did you ever talk to Jon after our magic flu?”

“…I knew I was forgetting something. I’ll go do that now. Thank you, habibti.”

He drops a kiss on her head and walks out to call his best friend, his soulmates sharing an exasperated look as he does so.

“Yello?” Jon answers, making Damian roll his eyes.

“Jonathan. I apologize for the delay in communication. Things have been…” he sighs. “A lot has happened, and it would probably be better to update you in person. Can you meet me in Paris?”

“I’ll be there in 5,” he says seriously.

Damian ends the call without responding, walking back into the dining room. “I probably should have asked, but is it okay that Jon stops by?”

They both look at him like he’s stupid.

“This is your home, Damian. You don’t need permission. Warning is nice, but you’re welcome to have whatever guests you deem safe,” Marinette assures him. He sends gratitude down his bonds with both of them, not having the words but wanting them to know how much he appreciates them. Their ends of the bond radiate love in return, differing types, but love nonetheless.

True to his word, Jon knocks on their door 5 minutes later, having located Damian through his heartbeat.

“Jon.”

“Dude, are you okay?” Jon looks at Damian with concern.

“Tt. I am fine.”

“You sure? Seem kinda anxious.”

“Jonathan, I am completely calm.”

“I can literally hear your heartbeat. Don’t tell me you’re calm.”

Damian blinks, surprised. Immediately, he calms his racing heart.

“Better?” he asks sarcastically.

Jon rolls his eyes in response, walking past Damian into the living room and sitting on the couch.

“So, what’s this about? I’m doing my best to ignore the other heartbeats in the house, but my curiosity is killing me, man.”

Titus and Alfred run into the room to welcome the super, causing Jon’s first heart attack.

“Dude, why are the animals younger?” he stares warily, hesitantly offering pets to them.

“Believe it or not, that’s one of the less important updates. They’re fine. Their bodies are just younger. Minds intact. We checked.”

Jon stares at him in disbelief.

“Look, I need your help. If any of…” Damian takes a deep breath, still undecided on how to label the men who took his love from him. “If Grayson, Drake, or Todd ask, you know I’ve been dating Adrien.” Then, as if that wasn’t enough to floor the super, he adds, “And that we’re getting married.”

Closing his eyes, Jon pinches the bridge of his nose as he inhales. “Dames, I’m going to need a lot more detail. When did you and Adrien start dating?! Why didn’t you tell me?” hurt creeps into his voice.

“Because we aren’t actually dating. It’s a cover. Do you recall covering for me two or three months ago? When I went off-grid for a month?”

“Yes…? It was right around… around the anniversary.”

“Yeah. Well, my predecessors tried to make me ignore that, again. So I came to Paris, knowing Adrien would understand. I went to the club because, for some unfathomable reason, he’d been sending me videos of one of his dancers. And…I-” he pauses, unsure if this is the point he wants to reveal their existence. “I’ll come back to what happened. But it absolutely cannot be told to anyone. Alfred is the only one who knows. He cared for us during that week. It turns out that Adrien is my soulmate.”

Jon holds up a hand, needing a moment to process.

“I thought you said you aren’t with him.”

“I’m not. He’s not my romantic soulmate. The way it was explained to me was that our souls are equally compatible with the miraculous of the Black Cat, making us brothers of the soul, rather than of blood or choice. Granted, he would be worth choosing,” Damian feels a pang of emotion from Adrien, giving away that he’s listening in, and chooses to ignore it. “That week, we had to tie ourselves together. Alfred was our witness. I would have asked for you as well, Jonathan, you are my brother of choice, but the rituals required a large quantity of kryptonite. After the rituals, there was magical backlash, and we were sick for a week as our souls got used to being properly connected.”

There’s another moment of silence for processing before Jon gestures for him to continue. “Adrien was not the only one involved in the rituals. There was another person we were tied to, and another witness. The true reasons behind the lie, the reasons Titus and Alfred are younger, the reasons why I’ve been slowly moving to Paris, and…they’re the reasons I can no longer trust the three I formerly called brothers.”

Jon’s face scrunches in confused concern, only for his jaw to drop as Marinette walks in with Ange, moving to sit on Damian’s lap to offer him some support.

“Hello, Jon.”

Jon’s world goes black.

When he comes to a minute or two later, Adrien is blocking his field of view as he talks to Damian.

“I’m hurt. I’m offended. You aren’t moving to Paris for me? Does what we have mean nothing to you?!” the blond wails, his dramatics helping settle Damian’s emotional turmoil as the former assassin is filled with amusement. If Adrien were being genuine, he would be more concerned, but this is all for show, if the amusement coming down Adrien’s end of the bond is anything to go by.

“Shut the f-” Marinette clears her throat pointedly, a warning glare aimed at her romantic soulmate. He quickly corrects himself. “Shut up, Adrien.”

“Betrayal! Do you see this? My own brother!”

The romantic pair roll their eyes in unison, though their son laughs.

“Gasp! My own nephew! How dare! I raised him from birth and he betrays me to be favored!” He wails, falling to his knees and giving Jon a clear view of the trio sitting in the armchair. The baby laughs more, lunging out of Marinette’s arms to tackle his uncle, who lets out an “oompf” as the boy knocks him onto his back. Marinette would have stopped Ange, but it was a safe distance to fall and Adrien would have caught him regardless.

“Oh, you think this is funny, do you? You think this is funny?!” Adrien teases the boy, tickling him as he does. After watching the scene another moment, Jon speaks up.

“…Marinette?”

In perfect unison, every human snaps their heads towards him.

“Wow, that was pretty creepy, not gonna lie.”

Marinette stands, moving towards Jon to sit next to him. “Are you back with us now? Have to say, I never expected to see a super faint,” she teases.

“Oh, f-” Marinette’s hands snap to cover his mouth, her eyes wide and she glances back at Ange.

“Don’t. Say. It.”

He stares, then licks her hand, causing her to squeal in disgust and wipe her hand on his shirt.

“Ew! Jon, why?”

Damian passes her a baby wipe as he turns to Jon, “Ange learned that word from Adrien earlier and wouldn’t stop repeating it. Marinette’s not pleased.”

“I don’t follow orders,” Jon rolls his eyes, only to freeze at the MamaBearGlare™️ aimed his way. “Except yours, apparently.”

Marinette’s face immediately relaxes as though she had never made him fear for his life, which only increased his incredulousness.

“Is anyone going to explain this?” Jon gestures wildly to the scene before him.

Damian stands, Ange in his arms, and walks towards his best friend, carefully handing his son to him. “Jon, this is Ange Anwar Wayne. My son. As you know, she was pregnant when…when she was presumed deceased.”

“Presumed?”

“If it weren’t for her guardian senses, she would be dead, Jonathan. At the hands of my father’s children, no doubt.”

“What?”

“Let me take over, Dami. I can feel you reaching your limit. Besides, this is my part of the story,” she squeezes his hand before turning back to Jon. “If your strength is going to be an issue, hand my son to one of the others. I’ll not have you injure him because your emotions were out of control.”

Taking the warning that this was going to get bad, he dutifully hands Ange to Damian.

“I assume Damian told you about why we broke up temporarily?”

“Yeah. Talia crashed your meeting with the wedding planner.”

“Right. Well after that, I wallowed for a little bit. I was pretty pissed, but I was confident Damian would come back once he saw sense. Unfortunately…he didn’t see sense soon enough,” her lips quirk ruefully.

“A day or so after he went back to the manor, something told me to protect myself, so I made a sentimonster and sent her out as myself. I wasn’t sure what I was protecting myself from, honestly, I didn’t think it was Talia. I was both right and wrong. It took a few days for anything to happen, enough that I almost recalled the feather, but my sentiform was kidnapped by Jason, with Tim and Dick’s full support. Instead of asking Damian why we had separated, they deemed it my fault and decided to make good on the shovel talk Jason had given me when we first got together.”

She takes a deep breath before continuing, “I-I’m not going to go into details. I haven’t shared them with Adrien or Damian either, and I’m going to keep it that way as long as possible. But, uh, it wasn’t a quick death. Based on the shovel talk, my understanding is Tim hid my body and Dick covered it up with a car accident. And after she succumbed to her injuries, I was kidnapped by Talia.”

Jon’s face had grown paler with every word she said, but she continued, her voice detached, as though she were talking about a stranger and not herself.

“Somehow, she knew I was the guardian, so I gave up the box and my memories. Spent the entirety of my pregnancy as an amnesiac, most of it being trained and forced to kill in the league. I can’t remember how, between adrenaline and trauma I probably blocked it out, but I escaped. Followed my instincts to Paris, to Adrien, and gave birth a few days later. Ange was early, but he was healthy. After I recovered, I decided I needed to contribute. It was against Adrien’s wishes, but I’m persistent, so he allowed me to wait tables, and eventually, I wore him down into letting me dance. Adrien sent videos to Damian, Damian never watched them, and we met at the club that night…I was a side act until then. My one night as the main performer, and I haven’t been allowed to work since,” she pouts.

“You know why, little mouse.”

“Doesn’t make it any less annoying,” she rolls her eyes. “Anyways, I gave Damian a private dance—don’t make that face, that’s not a euphemism—and then he left me an exorbitant sum of money, told me to go home early, and I found him and Adrien crying in the office. Damian holding Ange brought my memories back, and here we are,” she spreads her hands to gesture to the current situation.

“Oh! and Alfred and Titus are younger because the Lazarus Pits amplified my healing abilities,” she adds with a bright smile. “Now I’m done.”

“Right…that’s… Damian was right,” he ignores Damian’s ‘when am I not?’, “A lot has happened. I can understand keeping it a secret, but…why are you marrying your brother?” Jon asks incredulously.

Adrien looks at him, “He didn’t even propose! He just walked in and announced we’re getting married!”

Damian sighs, placing his head in his hands, then mutters without lifting them, “I was audited about my things missing in the manor and my frequent trips to Paris, so I said I’m dating Adrien. When I walked away, I had Marinette on my mind and foolishly said, ‘my fiancée is waiting for me,’ so now they’re under the impression that Adrien and I are to be wed. And, unfortunately, I’ve had to ask him to go along with the farce so we can protect our family.”

“So to sum this up: your dead wife isn’t dead, but if she was, your adopted siblings murdered her; you’ve demoted them back to last names to distance yourself emotionally. Your mom kidnapped her and made her train while pregnant, all of which she did with no memories before escaping to Paris. Adrien sent you videos of her stripping and you never watched them. You meeting your son got her memories back and now you have even more trust issues and ✨trauma✨. You’re all magically soulmates with each other. Marinette made the animals younger. You have to fake date your soulbonded brother. And Ange said fuck. Did I miss anything?” Jon ticks fingers off as he goes.

“Fuck!”

Marinette drops her head back with a groan, then gestures at Jon as though she wants to throttle him.

“Habibti, maybe if you ignore it, he’ll stop?” Damian suggests, knowing that going back and forth earlier just made it continue.

She pouts but listens to the suggestion, turning to Jon as Adrien distracts her son.

“That seems accurate?”

“You know, when I told you that I thought Marinette would want you to live like the world’s on fire, this was not what I meant.”

Damian scowls in his direction.

“Wait- what?” Marinette asks, confused.

“It…it was his birthday, Mar. His first one without you. He was missing you. A lot.”

~~

“Happy Birthday, Damian!”

Damian glared at the man before him, taking a sip from the bottle before him.

“What’s happy about it? Marinette isn’t here. Why should I celebrate?”

Jon deflated, walking to sit next to his best friend, wrapping his arms around Damian and resting his head on his shoulder in support as Damian began to silently cry, knowing he was in the presence of someone who would understand his pain. His brothers just keep telling him to forget and that he should move on. Jon understood.

Damian’s head bows forward as he cries, letting Jon take the alcohol away and pull him into an embrace as he sobs.

“I miss her so fucking much, Jon. Every day. There’s just…this ache in my chest. She promised she would always make my cakes, she promised, and she’s gone!” He sobs into Jon’s chest. Jon has a few of his own tears falling, though he hides them. “It’s not fucking fair! I just want her back. I just…I need her, Jon. I can’t-” he devolves into sobs again.

Jon clears his throat and begins speaking softly, his own voice watery.

“You’re right. It’s not fair. When Dick called…I thought he was joking at first. But…he wasn’t. I know that you’re angry. I’ve watched you fall apart, Damian. It’s like I lost you with her. And I don’t blame you,” he whispers into his best friend’s hair. “I don’t know the pain you’re feeling. I can’t understand. But…I know I miss her. I miss you, too. Sometimes, I think about what she would say…”

Damian’s sobs soften a bit as he listens to Jon’s words.

“Damian,” Jon pushes the man back slightly, looking him in the eye. “Open your gift. I…I know it’s not much. But…I hope it will help. Please?”

Damian hesitantly tears the paper, only to cover his mouth, breaking into sobs as her face comes into view.

“Marinette,” he sobs, stroking her face immortalized in the photograph before him. A photo of one of the rare moments Damian acted like the normal one in their pair, her head thrown back in laughter as he spun her around, half thrown over his shoulder, his smile wide as could be as he laughed at her antics. It was perfect.

“It’s hard to know what she would say, Damian. But I think she’d want you to live like the world’s on fire, to love like hearts don’t break. She wouldn’t want you to hesitate or to let fear hold you back. She’d want you to never look down when you walk the wire. But she would never ever fault you for taking time to grieve. She would want you to heal. In your own time. No one gets to rush you or tell you that it’s been long enough. She’d want you to celebrate another year alive despite her absence, as though she made it and still got to make your birthday cake. But she would understand if you couldn’t. She’s still here, Damian. She’s living on in our hearts and our memories, and simple little things like photographs.”

“I can’t go home,” Damian whispers. “It’s going to look like she could come home at any time, and- and she won’t. She took our baby and went somewhere I can’t follow. …Sometimes I call her, just to hear her voice again. And I want to curse her for leaving but I know it wasn’t by choice. I just- our last conversation was a fight about my mother. How- how could that be the last thing I said to her? She was my person, Jonathan. But I guess it wasn’t our time…” he chokes on another sob, looking down at the photo again. “Thank you. This is…exactly the thing I needed today.”

“When you’re ready, Damian, I will have your back. You don’t have to face it alone. But only when you’re ready. Don’t let anyone force you to go too fast,” Jon whispers back before forcing something a bit teasing into his voice.  “For the record, day drinking? Definitely living like the world’s on fire. Like you’re having one last hurrah and saying, ‘Fuck you!’ to anyone who tries to get you to do something else. Do I think she would want you to do it constantly? No. But I think she would understand it today.”

Damian huffs out a watery laugh, shoving Jon weakly.

“Not my finest moment. I just…It hurts. So. Fucking. Much. I just wanted to be numb. Just for a little while,” he looks at Jon, face red and swollen from all the tears.

“She would understand. Let’s be real. If she wasn’t pregnant, Marinette would fucking join you.”

Damian lets out another watery laugh, nodding in agreement.

“She would. She always encouraged my feelings. She was also fucking insane. Day drinking would have probably been her idea.”

Jon pulls Damian into a side hug.

“Let’s go somewhere. We can spend the day remembering her and feeling everything and no one can force you to do anything else…and even though she couldn’t make your cake, we can pick one up from the people who taught her? A party for the two of us—three if you want to invite Adrien. 🎶It’s your party, you can cry if you want to🎶,” Jon nudges him as he sings the little bit of that song he knows.

“Tt.” Damian attempts to put on his normal airs, even if it falls flat. “It won’t be the same, but I suppose it would be the closest I can get, right now… and Adrien would be acceptable company, I think. Yeah,” he wipes his eyes, holding the picture of Marinette close to his chest. “Let’s do that.”

~~

They’re drawn out of their reminiscing by Adrien.

“I remember that,” the blond said, a sad smile on his face. “We spent the day just…feeling. Remembering. And you both came to do the same on my birthday. …I don’t think you know how much I appreciated that.”

Damian and Adrien’s bonds are filled with grief and companionship, the grief so strong that Marinette has silent tears falling. Her side is radiating guilt and remorse.

“I don’t know what you went through, and I don’t expect you to tell me. You’re allowed to keep those moments to yourself, and I won’t hold that against you. But I want you to know that I’m so, so sorry.”

“Mar, it’s not your fault. You would have been there for us if you could have.”

She ignores that, looking at Jon, “Thank you, for taking care of them. Doing everything I couldn’t,” she smiles sadly.

“Well- I wouldn’t say everything,” Jon says. “I definitely would not handle Damian’s romantic and sexual needs. That was, and always will be, your department.”

His comment breaks the somber mood, getting a laugh out of the Parisians and a shove from his best friend.

“I wouldn’t want you sharing my bed anyway,” Damian sniffs haughtily, tucking the memory away again.

“And yet, we’ve cuddled.”

Adrien lets out an offended noise, “Why won’t you cuddle with me?”

“Oh my f-” a glance in Ange’s direction. “Forking god.”

Marinette snorts.

“Nice. Love that for us. Forking.”

“Adrien, you’re engaged. You can use that.”

Adrien looks at Jon like he hung the moon.

“You are. Absolutely right.”

Damian groans in the background, Marinette nudging him with a grin.

“You brought this on yourself, mon cœur.”

Damian sends her a resigned glare.

She sticks her tongue out, walking over to take Ange from Adrien, needing to put him down for his nap. When she returns with the monitor, she can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of her. Damian looks the epitome of a grumpy cat, caged in on either side by his chosen brothers. His glare intensifies.

“I wasn’t even gone that long. How did you manage this?” She grins in amusement.

“I have the power of God and Anime on my side.” Adrien says.

“No, you have the power of Superman’s son and his willingness to abuse it for these purposes on your side,” Damian retorts, voice hostile but they all know that if he was truly angry, he wouldn’t be in that position.

“Okay, so if we’re going to make this fake fiancé thing work, we need to have all the details worked out. Something that they can look into and find evidence of,” Jon says.

Damian makes a small noise of embarrassment.

“Something to share with the class, husband?” Marinette asks, causing a flush to cross his cheeks.

“I- I may have said something sarcastic that would be something they could look into. The only problem is it involves you.”

His only response is crossed arms and a raised eyebrow as she stares him down.

“I- I told them,” a sigh of regret. “I told them that we bonded because Adrien kept sending me videos of an exotic dancer.”

His face flushes, hoping that would be enough, but Marinette shifts her posture and tilts her head. Damian hangs his in defeat.

“I followed that with ‘He likes dancing and I’m exotic.’”

There’s a moment of silence before his three companions burst into raucous laughter, Marinette actually falling to the floor from how hard she was laughing.

“It wasn’t a lie!” His voice goes high at the end in his defense of himself, setting off another round of laughter that he fights to be heard over. “Adrien does like dancing, and to some people, I am exotic. We also did bond because of the exotic dancer in my email,” he scowls, waiting for them to gather themselves again.

“The problem with that being truthful is that you are the exotic dancer, Marinette. You’re recognizable.”

“Oh, is that what you’re worried about?” Adrien asks, surprised. “Damian, the only reason you would have been able to recognize her, had you even watched the videos, is because I wanted you to. I’ve had her glamoured since I found her. If anyone saw her pre-memory return, she was a stranger, like Ladybug. It kept her safe. But now… Now she’s recognizable. Your email will still be safe. It’s pre-memory. As long as they don’t see her in person, they can’t make that link.”

“Okay, then we have that. What else?” Jon asks.

“Where’s my ring?” Adrien sasses.

“Rings are dangerous in our business and easily lost.”

“Use our soulbond,” Marinette pipes up. At their questioning looks she turns around where the mark on her shoulder is visible over the back of her cami. “You got matching tattoos. They’re more permanent than rings,” she smirks at them.

“Woah,” Jon says, standing to look closer. “You all have these marks? Can I see?”

Damian rolls his eyes but begins to unfasten his shirt buttons. Adrien was lucky enough to only be in a tee, so he just pulls his over his head and goes to stand next to his sister, linking their hands. When Damian’s shirt is off, he goes to stand on his wife’s other side, linking hands with her. With all their hands clasped, the marks begin to glow.

“Uh…guys?”

They all turn to look at him at once.

“You uh…glow. When you hold hands. But only when it’s all three of you, from what I can tell. You weren’t glowing before Damian joined.”

As though sharing one mind, Marinette drops Adrien’s hand and the glow dies down. When Adrien takes Damian’s, it lights up again. Marinette lets go, and they dim. But when all three hold hands in a circle?

“Oh my god, what the fuck?!” Jon’s voice breaks through their circle, making it open into a line again. The glow of the marks remains, but it’s nothing like what happened when they were together.

“…what?” Marinette looks at him oddly.

“That was a big fucking light show. There were like…vines of golden light coming from your hearts that wrapped around your hands, which were producing light from your palms by the way. Like, shining through the miniscule gaps between your skin. And your eyes were like fucking glowsticks. A bit of light from each of you separated and started spinning in the middle, kind of like the little white part of your mark. There was also wind? From nowhere? Not a ton, but it seemed like it was picking up until I made you let go.”

They immediately drop hands.

“That sounds like what we felt when we were tied together. It’s our souls linking to each other…” Adrien says, confused.

“So…another thing to figure out later, then?” Marinette laughs nervously. At their bewildered looks, she grows defensive. “Look, we only just got over my green-glow hands last month. I’m really not in the mood to deal with what’s making us shine like the sun, okay? We don’t normally link hands anyways, and if we do, we’re normally wearing clothes that cover the marks. This changes nothing. We focus on your relationship, and we figure this out with the shielding once everything has settled down.”

Sensing the irritation and fear coming from her, the other pieces of her soul push comfort at her.

Sensing the sore subject, Jon dances around it delicately. “Apart from the witchcraft, I noticed that your marks are completely identical. There isn’t the slightest variation. Magic tattoos are fucking awesome.”

The three roll their eyes fondly and Adrien begins to put his shirt on. Damian walks down the hall to Marinette’s—sorry, their bedroom and grabs a tee, wanting to be more comfortable. He changes into sweatpants while he’s at it, peeks in at his son to soothe himself, and returns to the living room.

“So. Now that you’re back, that handles your rings. Alfred was there when you got bonded, so I’m sure he’d help cover by saying he was there for the proposal, too. We need more, though,” Marinette says.

“What did you tell them was what actually happened, if you were sarcastic in your choice of exoticism?”

“That, unlike them, you allowed me to remember Marinette, and we bonded over our shared loss, which is also not a lie. We were closer to acquaintances than friends before she…left…but after? We got close. You were my brother, even if I refused to even admit to being your friend.”

“Ay! Fellow denied-brother!” Jon lifts his hand, and Adrien smacks it in a high-five.

“And you wonder why I say nothing,” Damian rolls his eyes at their antics.

Hesitantly, Marinette speaks, “…I know it’s a sensitive memory, but…what if you use the birthdays spent together? Jon obviously didn’t have that for his birthday because unlike you two, he has a life, but he helped you two come together, so he can be a witness to that.”

“Your parents can, too. We got our cakes from them because it was the closest we had to you,” Adrien says quietly.

“My…parents?” Marinette is floored. She hadn’t even thought-With everything going on, there was no time. But…her parents are here, in Paris. They can meet her son. They can meet their son-in-law, as their son-in-law, and as their adopted son’s brother.

But…what if seeing them puts them in danger?

What if Talia…?

Marinette visibly shakes her head, clearing the thought, pushing all of that to the back of her mind to worry about later.

“Mar…? You good?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We’ve been calling your name for a couple of minutes, little mouse. Your emotions were…tangled. I think that’s the best way of putting it.”

“Well, they can be untangled later. We’re focusing on you guys right now. My parents are witnesses. People in the club who saw you go into Adrien’s office, they’re witnesses. There are security cameras in the bakery, and in the club. We have evidence of you spending time together. You’ve also gone out in public here a few times. And…we have the biggest evidence yet to occur.”

Everyone shares concerned looks about her steamrolling her emotions, but they decide to handle it later.

“What evidence, bug?”

“Our apartment. You’re going to help him pack it up. Jon can help, too, obviously. But you, specifically, are going to be seen with him, helping him pack, being affectionate. I have no doubt that it will be emotional for you guys, and even if it isn’t, the place is probably full of enough dust to make your eyes water anyways. Comfort each other. Be as affectionate as you would be if you were home. Be as affectionate as you would be with me in public. Jon can tease you or something, help sell it. But you need to put on a show. One that they’re forced to believe so they don’t look closer.”

“I promised Damian I would be there when he’s ready to face those ghosts. If they’re doing it now? I’ll be with them every step of the way.”

‘Thank you,’ Marinette mouths at him. If she can’t be there herself, she takes comfort in knowing the man who’s supported them all this time can.

And if this ends with two of the three actually dating, well… she smirks to herself, unknowingly making the others a bit concerned for her mental health. Well, more than they already were.

“…girl, why are you smiling like that out of nowhere? It’s weird,” Adrien eyes her warily.

“‘Girl’? Who are you? Alya?” She rolls her eyes.

He rolls his eyes right back. “Are you going to answer me?”

“It’s nothing to concern yourself with, brother-dearest,” her smile turns downright feral, sending shivers down his spine.

“How about I, habibti? May I be concerned?”

She takes a moment to consider.

“It’s not anything to be worried about, but I’ll update you later. I think you’ll find it has merit.”

For shits and giggles, she decides to test the limits of their bonds. She focuses solely on Damian and pushing a thought to him.

‘If you can hear me, tug your lobe.’

She repeats the thought a few times, almost giving up, but on the fifth, he glances at her and discreetly tugs at his ear, making happiness spread through both bonds. Adrien glances over and just sees her lost in thought with an unconscious smile, thinking nothing of it. Damian, however, knows otherwise.

‘Maybe this fake-dating will be a good thing. It might push Jon and Adrien together,’ she whispers into his mind.

The only signs of his receiving are the twitch of his lips and the slight nod he gives her.

Perfect. They’re on the same page, then.

Details ironed out, the group decides to separate for the day, Jon heading home while the others disperse into different areas of the house to process everything on their own.

Chapter Text

Despite what she said to the guys, Marinette knows her emotions will come unraveled long before that. She just hopes they’ll be able to shield and sort everything else out by then. As much as she aches to ask Tikki herself, she knows that wouldn’t be fair to her soulmates. So she makes herself a little list in the corner of her mind, something to come back to when she’s ready.

1. Shielding (emotions? Thoughts? How much can they gain access to if unshielded?)
2. Projecting (thoughts? More? Does it get easier? Distance limit?)
3. Glowing when linked (as a line? As a circle? Why is one more than the other? Why does it happen at all?)
4. Talk with Damian. (We got over the magicky stuff, now I can get under him.)
5. Parents (is it safe for them to know? Can I protect them? Will Talia come for them?)
   • Bruce (is he trustworthy? What would he do? How would he handle things?)
6. DickTimJason (how do we handle this at all? Who do we tell? How do we stay safe?)

Feeling herself recentered, she decides to make dinner. Tomorrow’s going to be eventful, that’s for sure.

--

At this point, it’s been months since they first discovered they could share emotions. Adrien’s getting impatient about wanting information. Curiosity and Cats and All. But he stands by what he said about needing to know when Damian needs them. This whole…engagement just proves that.

It also really sucks because he’d been working up the courage to ask Damian for Jon’s number, but now he’s engaged to his brother, and regardless of whether it’s a real relationship or not, Adrien refuses to be labeled a cheater. Especially knowing the lengths that the former Robin’s went through just because Marinette and Damian broke up. They may not know details, but Adrien and Damian can feel Marinette’s emotions every time she dwells on it and has nightmares. If Adrien’s honest, he’s had nightmares. …eerily realistic nightmares. What would they do if they thought Adrien cheated? He doesn’t want to find out.

Ignoring all of that, Adrien’s focus is on tomorrow. On how he and his brother have to pretend to be in love. And how painful it’s going to be to see all the memories Marinette left behind. Yes, she’s here. She’s safe and with him, and he will forever be grateful to have his sister back. But that doesn’t take away the grief he felt then. The grief he still feels sometimes, longing for all the things they missed out on, for all the things that could have been if things didn’t play out the way they did. I’m going to do my best to protect her, but god it’s going to hurt like a bitch. She’s lucky I love her.

Hearing the noises stop in the kitchen, Adrien decides to go see what his sister has decided to bless him with tonight. If she’s going to cause him pain tomorrow, she might as well give him comfort food tonight.

--

Damian sneaks into the nursery when they separate. He still can’t believe he managed to engage himself to his brother because of what those…those…people did. He knew they were going to question him at some point. He knew. So why hadn’t they planned better? Why did he let everything go?

He knows why. Because planning meant facing their betrayal.  It’s been months since he found out, and Damian still hasn’t fully accepted that this isn’t a dream. Isn’t some wildly vivid hallucination. That he isn’t going to wake up alone and miserable again.

He’s been trained thoroughly on detecting false worlds and mind games and the like. He knows this is real. That the woman he loves and his child are alive. That he has a brother his polar opposite on the surface who becomes his twin in their cores. That the people he considered brothers, that he grew up with, trusted, loved…that they took his wife and son from him. That his mother never would have gained access to her had they not taken the double and…

He still has trouble thinking about what they did.

Adrien and Damian had talked about it before, how they occasionally had nightmares of what she went through…how similar they were. How, he’s not sure that Adrien’s noticed, they seem to line up with Marinette’s nightmares.

Having her project her thoughts today…

Is she projecting other things as well?

Damian isn’t sure he wants the answer. Because if what they’ve seen is what she’s gone through…he doesn’t know what he’ll do. He’s agonized by their betrayal, and if he has the details? It might break him. He’s questioning everything he’s ever believed, every foundation he formed, everything that had anything to do with them.

And the thing is, he’s not even sure they’ll ever know.

Because, as broken as he is, as much as he knows he will want some kind of justice delivered? It may have to be karmic. He absolutely refuses to endanger the people he’s finally regained, to endanger the family he’s found and formed.

There are two people from his former life that Damian knows with absolute certainty he can trust. His pseudo-grandfather and his best friend-turned-brother. Alfred and Jon. His father? You never know which way his morals will sway. He will preach no murder but his love and loyalty know no bounds, despite his emotional constipation. It’s hard to predict whether or not Bruce will stand by him or will be lenient towards his other children.

…Damian really hopes Cass isn’t involved. He doesn’t think he could bare to lose his sister after he’s already lost his adopted brothers.

Ange stirring breaks Damian from his turmoil. The boy reaches for his Baba, who is all too happy to acquiesce to his demands. Together, they head to the kitchen for dinner. Damian knows tomorrow will be trying in more ways than one, and he’s going to make sure tonight is as relaxed as possible.

--

As Jon flies home, his mind is in utter chaos. How does one even begin to process everything his best friend-turned-brother just threw at him? On top of everything, said brother is now engaged to his brother, the one Jon had been nursing a crush on for the last year. Yeah, he didn’t say anything, but now he doesn’t even have that option. What would Damian’s older siblings do to him if Jon tried to date the man they think Damian’s engaged to?

Instead of flying home as he had planned, he ends up on Ma and Pa Kent’s farm, needing to work out his thoughts. There’s nothing like manual labor to put things in perspective. And if the end of the work comes with a slice of Ma’s apple pie? Well that’s just an added bonus.

--

Tim, Jason, and Dick are in front of the batcomputer, searching for evidence to Damian’s claims. Why wouldn’t they know he’s engaged? That he’s been seeing Adrien long enough to get engaged?

“Well, he wasn’t lying to us about those emails.”

“Are you serious?”

In response, Tim presses play on a video of a woman using aerial silks in Adrien’s club.

A low whistle sounds. “Nice core strength.”

At the incredulous look shot his way, Dick holds his hands up, “What? I’ve been undercover as a stripper. Pole dancers have amazing control. You don’t realize how much body strength is used in that profession until you’re in that profession. And as an acrobat, I can tell you that aerial silks require a lot of precision and control, too. I admire what she’s doing. I’m not attracted to her; she looks like she’s Damian’s age. But her technique? I can admire that.”

“Why do you think Adrien was sending these to him in the first place?” Tim asks, scrolling through the slightly-over-a-year’s worth of emails containing this dancer.

“If Damian is to be believed, it’s because he’s exotic and Adrien likes dancing. Maybe some kind of switch flipped in his brain. Like…trying to recognize someone’s culture very, very poorly in an extremely offensive way?”

 “Have you actually met Adrien?” Tim asks incredulously.

“I try not to think about everyone from Paris as a whole,” Jason mutters, looking away, self-loathing dripping from his words.

The others pause as their own guilt surfaces.

Tim is the first to push it away, going back to his hunt for evidence.

“He spent his birthday with Adrien and Jon. They did the same for Adrien’s birthday. They visited…her parents’ bakery for the cake and then vanished. Not sure where they went, but probably somewhere private.”

“Didn’t he go to Paris on…the anniversary? After our fight?” Dick hesitantly offers.

Searching through the cameras, Tim finds Damian at Adrien’s club. They watch as he drinks himself away, then something in his face changes. He’s seen paying the manager and entering a private room, one the dancer walks into not long after.

It’s a closed network, but Tim manages to gain access to the room’s cameras, ones only used if someone reports a problem, ones only the dancers know are there.

The three brothers watch as Damian talks to the dancer, crying, and then a bit awkwardly as he receives a lap dance. It’s almost a relief to them when he places a large wad of cash on the stage and practically runs from the room.

Ignoring the dancer, they chase their little brother through the cameras, watching him enter Adrien’s office, where Tim gets kicked from the network.

No matter how many times he tries, anything past Damian entering refuses to let him have access.

His head hits the keyboard with a thump, “I hate when the miraculous block me out.”

“How do you know it’s the miraculous?”

“Because everything after they leave the building is accessible. I can see it the moment his office is empty, and I can trace their path out the building by which cameras won’t allow me access as they move. He’s with Adrien, and that’s blocking the cameras. It blocks access to Adrien’s address, too. I can’t find it online, and it will block out random cameras in random areas at the same time, so I don’t know where they live.”

“Do you think Adrien’s the guardian? I know…she was…before, but we never found out what happened to the box.”

“It’s probably still in Damian’s apartment. He hasn’t been there since before. Adrien’s not the guardian. His brand of magic has been fucking with me since long before what happened. I couldn’t find Hawkmoth, and I haven’t been able to find Adrien since his father was caught as Hawkmoth. I can find him in public, sure. It’s no secret when he’s at the club or if he’s out in public. It’s how I’ve caught footage of him and Damian together. But if the magic deems it something worth hiding? Whatever was in his office when they talked, whatever they took with them, wherever they went to? All of that is blocked.”

“But wasn’t he super close with…Marinette?” Dick hesitates on her name. They all avoid it as much as they can.

“My best guess is he was Chat Noir, but I have no concrete evidence, even if his club is named the Cat Scratch. He could just be inspired by Rent. Damian trusted him back then, but that really doesn’t mean much. She called the shots when it came to him. Maybe because her parents adopted him? But I don’t know. It always seemed…more.”

“You know…weird things used to happen when he visited. Like really weird. I once found my cereal box filled with Barbie doll underwear. It was a brand-new box, and it was filled with tiny. Women’s. Underwear.”

“I swear to you, I used to see dead teenage me behind me in a mirror, but nothing was there when I looked. And it only happened when he was around.”

“Well, I never had anything happen to me, so maybe you guys just suck,” Tim shrugs.

That comment causes Jason to grab him in a headlock, and Dick to take out the chair under him, leading the two younger brothers to fall to the ground wrestling. Dick joined in.

It takes a good half hour or so, but they eventually calm down enough to continue their research.

“Damian didn’t have a ring, did you guys notice that?” Dick speaks, as though they hadn’t just brawled in front of the computer, on the cold hard ground instead of the training mats.

Jason looks at him like he’s stupid, “So what, Dickface? Maybe Adrien has a ring.”

“He doesn’t,” Tim pipes up from his footage analyzing. “The only ring he has is one he’s worn since he was in the French equivalent of middle school.”

“Maybe the demon just didn’t see the point. Rings can be dangerous in our business.”

“But it’s never been confirmed that Adrien is involved. And that didn’t stop him from getting her a ring.”

“But she was also pretty firm about only being called on in absolute emergencies. It wouldn’t be a danger for her. Didn’t her magic suit change it anyways?”

“We never saw her transform, Jay, how would we know?”

Their argument is interrupted by Alfred.

“Rather than invading Young Master Damian’s privacy, perhaps you should ask him when you next cross paths. Regardless, it’s time to leave the cave for the night.”

Though none could pinpoint it, something had been different about how Alfred looks at them since his family emergency. Not that they know the cause or what changed, that’s just the closest they can remember to estimate when the change happened. They didn’t like how it made them feel, like they had disappointed him somehow, so they’ve been doing their best to obey him, even more than they did before.

Tim instantly shuts down the computer and the three scurry upstairs. Alfred lets his composure drop for a brief minute, mourning what could have been had those boys not done what they did, and then he pulls himself together, knowing that his other grandsons, granddaughter-in-law, and great-grandson are counting on him.

He makes sure to send a message to them about the investigation, wanting them to be aware of what lies ahead.

--

The next morning dawns bright and early in Paris, ready for Damian and Adrien to begin their plan. The two leave the house and stroll down public streets hand in hand. While Damian would love to see his in-laws again, they know this isn’t the time. Not when so much could be misunderstood. Not when he has their descendants living with him and unable to see them yet. Because make no mistake, Damian will ensure that they meet.

Pushing down his annoyance at the man’s whistling, Damian pulls Adrien’s head down to peck his forehead, stunning the blond into silence.

“Is that all I have to do to make you shut up, model boy?” Damian smirks, enjoying his brother flushing in annoyance and embarrassment. Though to others, Adrien simply looks flustered.

Determination on his face, Adrien kisses Damian’s jaw and lays his head on his shoulder, relaxing his face to appear at peace.

Damian is fighting his mild disgust. Brotherly foreheads and cheeks are one thing. But his jaw?

He can feel Adrien’s amusement and the equivalent of him sticking his tongue out, knowing Adrien had caught on to the disgust.

Both of them hide their annoyance as they feel Marinette’s blinding amusement, her laughter practically ringing in their ears despite her being nowhere near them.

‘If you didn’t want me to watch, you shouldn’t have let your family teach me how to hack security cameras.’ Her voice giggles inside his mind, and though the statement brings annoyance, her voice brings a sentimental smile to his face, further selling the relationship as he glances at Adrien.

“Adrien?”

“Yes, dear?”

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Damian directs Adrien to the zeta. “It’s time.”

Though they’ll deny it, their hands gripped a bit tighter, needing the support for what would be lying in wait on the other side of the transport tube.

A shared deep breath and the two stepped in, allowing themselves to end up in the Batcave.

“Woah,” Adrien’s childlike wonder brings a small, fond smile to his brother’s face.

“This is not what we’re here for, Rien.”

His brother pouts, making Damian’s amusement grow.

“Come, let’s go see Alfred.”

Adrien perks up, though he still glances longingly at the cave as they walk away. “You have to give me a tour later, though.”

“Not today.” Damian says quietly, knowing the apartment will be difficult for both of them.

They make their way to the kitchen, Alfred turning around just in time to have Adrien leap at him.

“Grandpa!”

Alfred laughs, “Hello, dear boy. How have you been?”

Adrien pulls back, beaming, “I’ve been well,” sensing someone outside the room, Adrien gives Damian’s hand two squeezes and continues, “Thank you again for helping Damian with the proposal.  We finally got the matching tattoos we wanted!”

Alfred gives them a knowing look but an honest answer, “I was honored to be a witness to your joining. It was a beautiful thing to witness. You’ll have to show me those tattoos later,” he winks.

Dick walks in then, finally making himself known. “Who got tattoos?” he plays innocent.

Adrien looks at him with a terrifying grin, though quickly switches it to something innocent himself, making Dick wonder if his mind was playing tricks on him. The air being colder around him isn’t real, he’s sure. He’s just nervous. Yeah, nervous.

“Damian and I did! It’s for our engagement. Isn’t he the sweetest?” Adrien looks at his brother with the most adoring eyes Dick has ever seen, at least, apart from those she used to make at him.

“Can I see?”

“Not in my kitchen, Master Richard. Did you boys have breakfast yet?”

“No, Grandfather, we did not.” Damian briefly considered whether or not to say the honorific, but Alfred has more than earned the title, and Damian has no shame in calling him such.

That doesn’t stop Dick from tearing up, though he goes ignored.

“To the table. I’ll bring food to you momentarily.”

“Thank you, Grandfather.”

The men leave the room, and Dick looks at Alfred in mild betrayal, “You knew?”

An eyebrow raise, “I know everything, Master Richard.”

Dick’s heart drops, though he’s sure Alfred doesn’t mean what he thinks he means…right?

“O-Of course you do, Alfie. Can’t get anything past you,” Dick shoots him finger guns and turns around, almost racing toward the pantry. He grabs a new box of cereal, opening it, only to find a box of Barbie Doll heads. No bodies, just their heads, and all of them are styled to look like Marinette. He screams, dropping the box, and leaving the room, shaking like a leaf.

Adrien smirks and keeps Damian from leaving the table with a simple headshake. Grabbing his hand, Adrien instinctively projects his thoughts to Damian.

‘The dead boys are playing with him.’

Damian blinks and leans over, mouth moving imperceptibly as he whispers, looking as though he’s kissing Adrien’s cheek, “Did you mean for me to hear that?”

Judging by the blond boy’s wide eyes, he had not.

“I approve, by the way,” Damian murmurs, returning to his food.

The two can hear Alfred scolding Dick for spilling cereal on the floor, and his stuttering replies as he tries to explain that he saw something, but Dick’s made to clean up the mess. The man goes out into Gotham at night and he thought seeing something would be believable enough?

Yeah, it’s probably true, the dead boys do be wild sometimes, but that doesn’t mean others will believe it.

Finishing their breakfast, the two take their dishes back to the kitchen before Alfred can collect them.

“Jon’s going to meet us at the apartment, Grandfather. He promised to…support us. We both know it’s going to be hard to go through.”

“Of course, my boys. I’ve packed you some lunch, and I’ve already had some boxes delivered for you. You don’t have to do it all today,” Alfred says, laying a hand on each of their shoulders. “She wouldn’t be mad if you have to take your time,” he says, glancing between the two, seeing the emotions already lingering under the surface.

Of one mind, the two brothers wrap their arms around their grandfather, who briefly holds them in return, pecking the tops of their heads and then stepping back, shooing them off.

“I’m sure Master Jonathan is already waiting for you. Don’t leave him there too long.”

They begin to leave with their lunches, but they’re stopped as they pass the pantry.

“Where are you two off to? I thought you were going to show me your tattoos!” Dick gives a playful pout, though his eyes are still haunted.

“Another time, Grayson. We have plans with Jonathan.”

Without giving Dick a chance to reply, Damian tugs Adrien away hand in hand, though the blond turns around and sends the man another chilling smile, as if to say ‘this is only the beginning.’ A blink and the smile is gone again, making Dick even more wary.

Jason walks into the room just after they leave, looking just as spooked as Dick.

“I looked into the mirror and saw my dead teenage self and…her,” he whispers, more shaken than Dick has ever seen him, eyes glassy.

“My cereal box was filled with doll heads that looked like her,” he whispers back, a quiver in his voice. “It vanished before Alfed saw, making him think I spilled cereal on the floor, but I swear, Jay, I saw them.”

And the thing is, Jason doesn’t doubt him.

“I just passed Damian and Adri-” Tim walks in nonchalantly, only to freeze at the traumatized men standing before him. “…You good?”

Dick breaks into hysterical laughter while Jason just looks down, arms wrapped around himself uncharacteristically.

“Of course. Of course! Nothing bothers you! You haven’t had any traumatizing encounters today!” Dick continues, his volume and disbelief rising as his histrionics continue.

Whatever was protecting Tim before must have vanished when the three of them come together because suddenly, he can hear Marinette, a haunting lilt to her voice in his ears.

‘Tiiiiiimmmmm. How could you do that to me, Tiiiimmm?’

His face, normally pale, is now stark white as he shrieks in fear, looking at the other two.

“What did you do, why can I hear her?” his voice trembles as he looks around wildly.

‘Tiiiimmmmm.’

“Make it stop. Make it stop! Make it stopmakeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop!” He covers his ears, but her voice still comes through clearly.

‘IIIII wasss innnnocennnt, Tiiiimmmm. You helped killlll my baaabyyyyyy,’ her voice hisses at him.

“I’m SORRY!” he devolves into sobs, rocking back and forth with his ears covered. The other two wrap their arms around him, assisting him in leaving the room, the three holing up in Jason’s room, the most clean and homely of their options.

The voice has stopped, but Tim still cowers into himself, sobbing. The others are crying, too, all of them reliving the guilt of what they did.

--

Alfred never saw what the other three did, nor did he hear them screaming. But after hearing Richard’s fumbled excuse for the cereal and watching the boy quake, he’s sure it has something to do with the ‘dead boys’ Adrien spoke of while laid up in bed with magical backlash. As much as he loves the three young masters, he will never see them the same way as before, and he refuses to protect them from the consequences of their own actions.

--

Adrien and Damian were on their way to the apartment when Adrien froze.

“Holy shit.”

Damian looks at him in alarm.

“The dead boys…they messed with Tim.”

“…they have my thanks,” he murmurs quietly, still dealing with an emotional cocktail surrounding the three men being haunted.

Adrien wraps his arm around Damian’s back and leans his head on his shoulder, bringing Damian’s arm around his shoulder.

“You’re lucky we don’t want to traumatize you or I would fork her just to spite you for this.”

“You got us engaged, you deal with the consequences, brotherrrr,” he purrs the last word teasingly against Damian’s ear, causing the man to push him away. Adrien bursts into laughter, causing Damian to flip him off and stalk forward without him. The blond chases after him, grabbing his hand again.

When they make it to the apartment, they find Jon in the hall waiting for them.

“Are you guys sure you can handle this? It’ s okay to not be ready. She would understand,” he says, looking at them, searching for any signs of them not being ready.

Taking a deep breath and squeezing his affianced brother’s hand, Damian nods, “We’re ready.

He drops Adrien’s hand to unlock the door, using his body to hide how his hands shake.

“Are you sure? Don’t tell me you’re calm, Dames. As I told you last time, I can literally hear your heartbeat. You’ve been off your game.”

He whips to face Jon, his face betraying his anguish at having to clean out what was supposed to be their home, at having to face the people he used to call brothers, at having to lie to the world about his relationship with his actual brother, at having to hide his son and wife from everyone including their family,  “Can you blame me?”

Adrien’s hand ends up in the middle of Damian’s back as he pushes love and comfort down the bond, Jon’s hands falling on his shoulders to ground him. Jon locks eyes with the distraught man, “It’s okay to not be okay, Damian.”

“I have to do this,” his eyes are begging, though the tears lining his lashes refuse to fall.

“We’re with you, ahki,” Adrien whispers, his head bent to rest at the top of Damian’s back, having moved closer to offer as much support as possible.

Another deep breath to steel himself, and Damian reaches for the doorknob. He doesn’t expect his brothers to cover his hand, to help him open the door, but they do, and if he’s honest…he doesn’t know that he could have done even that without them.

Stepping into the apartment takes Damian back in time. Back to midnight dances in the kitchen, to whispered conversations in their bed about their baby, to passionate arguments leading to passionate reconciliations, to everything they hoped to be and everything they lost.

Just crossing the threshold takes the breath out of him. Everywhere he looks, he can see their ghosts. Their pictures on the wall, though dusty, show how happy they were before it all fell apart. Damian stares at one of the photographs, remembering the moment as though it were yesterday. He had snuck up behind her and grabbed her, causing her to shout and punch him in the jaw. The picture, captured by Adrien, was the exact moment her fist landed. The one immediately next to it was her fussing over him when she realized what she had done. He was more proud than angry, truth be told.

Jon breaks Damian out of his reverie, Adrien not far behind. “Oh, ew, what the fuck is that?”

“I think it’s coming from the fridge,” Adrien gags.

Damian, the only one with a normal nose (or one that isn’t as strong…yet), doesn’t understand until he concentrates and catches the stench of rot. His eyes water, and he doesn’t know if it’s from the smell or from the memories.

“There was food in the fridge. She…she didn’t expect to go. She though- she thought she would come home…” the first tear falls and Marinette, an ocean away, says “fuck it.”

She transforms with Trixx, places Ange in the baby carrier she added to her uniform when she did, and mirage’s them invisible. Then, she unifies with Kaalki, taking herself and her son to their former home. She steps through the portal and walks towards them, her feet leaving tracks in the dust. Her hand touches Damian’s back as Ange squeals, “Baba!”

With her hand on his back, Damian, only Damian, can see them, but the moment she lets go, they’re invisible again.

“Alright boys,” she makes a clicking sound. “You’re booted from the kitchen. I’m going to call Alfred. This is going to be a level of filth beyond you.”

“M-?” Her hand slams over Adrien and Jon’s mouths.

“Don’t. Say. It. We have cameras. They can’t see me. They can’t hear me. But they can see and hear you. One of you say something to make this a task for later, you can’t all just walk back out for no reason.”

Adrien, ever the performer, leans over the sink, gagging, and puts his hands up in protest. “Nope. Nope. Not doing this. This is being left as long as possible.” He practically runs out of the room, right to the bathroom to brush his teeth with the spare supplies he knows they kept.

Jon rolls his eyes and follows. Damian looks around, seeing the ghost of Marinette dancing around the kitchen singing to a spoon while she made them food, seeing her laugh when he got flour all over himself, seeing them kiss when they christened the counter of their new kitchen, seeing her bent over as she searched for something in the fridge, seeing—

“No. You’re projecting, my love. I’m right here,” she grabs his hand, bringing it to her cheek so he can see her and their son.

“Mari-nette,” his voice cracks in the middle, and she longs to hold him, but they wouldn’t be able to excuse that. Damian holding her cheek could be him reminiscing, but hugging her? That would raise questions.

“Do you need us to stay, Damian? We will stay if you need us here.”

Pulling himself together, he phrases it in a way that can be brushed off, a way that she would understand but anyone watching wouldn’t.

“I didn’t want you to go,” he whispers, voice full of emotion, closing his eyes as he took a shaky breath. “But I know you must. It’s time to lay the past to rest.”

He turns away, ready to face the rest of the apartment. She places a kiss on his cheek and lifts Ange to do the same, causing a small smile to cross Damian’s face, his eyes closed as though lost in memory.

“We’ll be at home, mon Coeur. We love you. Ange, say bye-bye to Baba!”

“Bye-bye, Baba!”

A single tear falls down his cheek, eyes still closed, a sad smile on his lips as he whispers, “bye-bye, baby,” another thing they could easily write off on the camera.

Upon returning to Paris, Marinette calls Alfred.

“Young Miss?”

“There’s a mess beyond their abilities, Alfred. I didn’t think about all the food in the kitchen when I sent them. Would you be able to go over?”

“Of course. Are there any other supplies that may be needed?”

“Most of the things needed should be under the sink, but take anything you feel you may need. I’ve never been around food from two years ago before, but I can tell you that it stinks.”

“I hope you did not do anything reckless,” a hint of disapproval enters his tone.

“I made sure everything was easily explainable. I’m sure I left some footprints behind, but I think that’s the only thing. The miraculous should cover that for me, though.”

“If you’re certain.”

“I am. Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.”

They end the call, and knowing that today was supposed to be about evidence, Alfred has an idea that may offer the three older robins a small reprieve from the dead boys.

“Boys, I am needed at Master Damian’s apartment. Apparently, the young masters were not equipped to handle the rotten food in the kitchen. Do you need anything?”

“No thank you, Alfie!” Jason calls back.

“Then I will be on my way. Behave, please, gentlemen.”

As Alfred walks away, the three turn to each other.

“Cave?”

“Cave,” answers Tim, grim determination on his face.

“Are you sure you can handle it, Timbo? That was…”

“I’ll be fine. We wanted to see proof, right? Let’s see proof. Damian’s almost as paranoid as Bruce. Almost. There will be cameras in almost every room, bathroom and bedroom being the exceptions. And even the bedroom, there may be one that he manually shut down when inside.”

“You hope he shut it down. I overheard them once, and they definitely made at least one ‘home video’, if you know what I mean,” Jason says.

The others make faces, not wanting to think of their little brother in any…compromising positions.

“I’m just saying. Proceed with caution if you decide to go back further than today.”

“Today will be enough, Jason. He hasn’t been in there in two years.”

The boys go down to the cave, keen on observing their youngest sibling and his fiancé.

--

The boys had been doing general tidying when Alfred showed up for the kitchen.

“Thank you, grandfather.”

“There’s no need for thanks, my boy. Continue as you were. I’m sure it will be easier to sort things through when there’s no threat of a cloud of dust in your face.”

They part, Alfred to clean, disinfect, and discard of anything unusable in the kitchen, primarily in the fridge and freezer. The others return to the dusting, sweeping, vacuuming, mopping, etc. of the rest of the apartment.

--

Alfred finishes the kitchen around the same time that the boys finish the rest, and prepares to leave, Jon taking everyone’s bags of trash down to the dumpster.

“Don’t forget to eat. You all need to keep up your strength,” he calls as he closes the door and makes his way back to the manor.

Meanwhile, the trio of men in the apartment face decision paralysis on where to begin.

“Why don’t I pack up her clothes?” Adrien asks. “We don’t have to go through them, we can just send them to Paris to sort through. She’s my sister, but that doesn’t mean I want to clean out her lingerie.”

Eyes widening in realization, Damian cuts in, “I will pack her clothes. There are…things you will not wish to see, Rien.”

“Oh, gross, man,” Adrien scrunches up his face. “I know you fucked my sister, but you don’t need to make it obvious,” he cringes, then remembering why they’re there (besides to actually clean the apartment), continues, “You’re my man, now, Damian. I love my sister, but…this is a line I do not want to cross. I accept you had your time with her, but please…let me remember her as she was outside of your bedroom.”

His only response is the middle finger Damian sticks his hand out the door to throw at him.

“Thanks, babe!” the blond shouts, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Jon raises his eyebrow.

“What? Would you want details on your sibling’s sex life?”

“Ew, no.” Jon smacks his shoulder.

“I’ll be honest, I used to tease Marinette about it, and she would tell me some things, but…it was different then. Yeah, she was my sister, but she was also my best friend. Now…I want to remember her for her. Not what my fiancé did to her in there,” he gestures at the room.

And it’s true. Before Adrien and Damian were close enough to be considered brothers, Adrien didn’t mind hearing about his sister’s sexcapades. He liked hearing things she learned, things he’s never experienced. And he loved teasing her about it. But then Marinette died, and Damian became his brother. So now? When they’re both his siblings? When they all live under the same roof? When he might have his eye on a certain Super? Nope. He’s happy to stay away from that part of their lives. If it was just one of his siblings, he could deal. Bro talk or his closeness with his sister. Either, as long as their significant other were not also his sibling. But both? No thank you.

“I, unfortunately, am also privy to some of the things that happened in there,” Jon cringes. “And that is also because of your sister. Damian doesn’t talk about those things unless he’s forced to. Marinette once said something to me related to their bedroom habits because we were arguing.”

“Sounds like her,” Adrien says, his eyes watering and a sad smile on his lips. Jon wraps an arm around Adrien’s shoulders. “Do you think she would be happy for us?” he asks tearfully, the dust finally getting to him.

Jon isn’t entirely sure what Adrien’s asking, but he knows his answer. “Yes.”

They sit and wait for Damian to emerge from the bedroom, but they both freeze when they hear sobbing.

Carefully, the two knock on the door. “Dames? Is it safe to come in?”

A sniffle, “Y-yeah. I’ve got all the, uh- traumatizing items in a box already.”

“Right, Jon. Get rid of it. Permanently. Somewhere no one is going to be able to find and say ‘this is the sex life of the Damian Wayne’.”

Jon, knowing that meant delivering it to Marinette and really not wanting to fly to Paris and leave them alone, responded, “I don’t follow orders.”

Damian looks up at him from the floor, nose red, eyes damp with tears, and raises a brow. Jon turns back to Adrien, “Except yours, apparently. Let me just…get rid of that,” he laughs nervously, taking the box and leaving the apartment.

The cameras can assume he ran away to use his heat vision where he won’t set off a fire alarm. Or a miniature bomb, depending on what’s in the box. Some of those toys have batteries that should not be around heat. But he doesn’t want to know, so he flies it to Paris as fast as he can, gives it to Marinette saying, “here are your responsibilities that I refuse to take over,” and flies back to Gotham as fast as he can. The whole process takes probably less than 5 minutes, but it still feels like too long to leave his brother and his brother alone in that tomb. He returns to find Adrien’s lips an inch from Damian’s, and knowing that neither boy actually wants to kiss each other, he knows he came just in time. He clears his throat, causing the two to “startle” and move away from each other, looking in opposite directions.

“I know you guys are together now, but I really don’t think going at it in the room you shared with Marinette is the way to free her ghost or mark your territory or whatever,” he says, shooting them a weird look.

He’s greeted with various things thrown at him in response, causing him to laugh and block the objects.

“I kid, I kid, stop throwing things!” his laughter echoes around the apartment, uplifting the melancholy that had set in while Jon was gone.

The two on the floor look at him gratefully. They had sat in silence for a while, then cuddled, and because they weren’t ready to move on from this room and they weren’t ready to talk, Adrien had slowly shifted to look like he was going to kiss Damian. But thank fuck for Jon interrupting. The relief overpowered the reluctance and disgust that had been reverberating through their soulbond before his arrival.

(Back in the cave, Dick was cursing Jon for stopping their kiss, desperate to see proof that Damian’s moved on from the woman they took away from him.)

“Is the bedroom done?”

“No, but the rest is things you can help with.”

The three made quick work of the bedroom and decided to take a break for lunch before continuing.

“So. Any plans for the wedding yet?”

“Joooon,” Adrien whines.

“What? You can’t tell me you haven’t at least thought about it.”

Jon receives a flat look from Damian, but Adrien gets a little defensive.

“Oh yeah? Well what’s your wedding going to look like?”

“I am not engaged here. You two are. But, if you must know, I think an outdoor wedding would be nice… on the farm, surrounded by friends and family, people we love and trust. A little boy I know as our flower child…”

Adrien coughs, a small blush on his face, and though not enough to be discernable by the cameras, he starts with (just in case), “Oh, so you have thought about it…Anyone in particular come to mind?”

It’s Jon’s turn to blush. “Well…there is this guy…but he’s not exactly available right now. He’s single, I think, but he’s tied up in something protecting his family, so…”

Jon did his best to make it obvious, but Adrien, poor, oblivious Adrien didn’t catch on. Did he hope it was him? Yeah, but Jon said single. Adrien is, although fake, engaged.

Damian rolls his eyes, grabbing Adrien’s hand and concentrating on projecting his thoughts.

‘He means you, you fool!’

“Holy shit! Whatthefuckwasthat?”

Damian face palms.

“Adrien, my insufferable idiot, did we not discuss this over breakfast?”

Adrien’s eyes widen.

“You’re a fucking moron. You’re lucky I love you,” Damian says, rolling his eyes and hiding the blush that appears every time he admits that to one of his brothers.

Adrien’s eyes tear up and he practically climbs into Damian’s lap, hugging him, wailing, “He loves me! Oh my god, I love you, too!”

Jon watches in confused amusement.

“Did you- Was that not established?” he tries to choke off his laughter, but he doesn’t quite succeed.

“Oh, it was. It’s just so rare for him to say it out loud, you know?”

“Valid, my man. Valid.” Jon hi-fives Adrien, receiving a little spark of emotion as he does, widening his eyes.

Jon felt attraction from Adrien. Like…attraction towards him.

“So, can I ask you something?”

Adrien smiles and Damian just stares at him blankly.

“I, uh- I think you know? Who I was thinking of? And I was wondering if he might-”

“YES!” Adrien falls out of Damian’s lap towards Jon, grabbing both his hands and looking at him seriously. “Absolutely yes. Whatever it is, the answer is yes.”

Both men stare at Adrien, bewildered and mildly concerned about the cameras. Having found skin contact makes it easier, Damian grabs Adrien’s ankle, projecting.

‘You absolute fucking simp, maybe consider the fucking CAMERAS?’

Without letting the thought startle him, Adrien continues staring at Jon, not moving.

“I know exactly who you are talking about, and I promise, he absolutely would say yes to whatever you ask. It just has to work around his protection detail. Family’s pretty important to him, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jon says with a soft smile. “I know.”

“Good.” Adrien pats Jon’s hands awkwardly as he crawls back to sit next to Damian again, “Sorry for the enthusiasm, I ship you two so fucking hard.”

“That’s what she said,” Damian smirks, amused.

“You- I can’t with you,” Adrien said, putting a hand in front of Damian’s face. “Let me ship my ship in peace, Damian! Let me have my OTP. He’s been pining over Jon for ages, Damian! He’s lonely.” Adrien wails, dramatically sprawling himself over Damian’s lap, playing it up for the cameras but absolutely serious in sentiment. He turns to Jon and winks, “I can give you his number if you want.”

“Yeah?” Jon asks, amused by the display though a blush stains his cheeks.

“Mhm. Let me see your phone.”

Jon unlocks it and hands it over, no questions asked. Adrien, having stolen Damian’s phone during his dramatics, uses Damian’s to scroll through the contacts to the one called ‘Uncle Kitty’ because Damian is a little shit and finds that hilarious, and types it into Jon’s phone. Does he know his own phone number? Yes. And should he have probably just texted it from Damian’s phone to make it look like he has Jon’s number already? Probably also yes. Did that stop him from putting his own phone number into his crush’s phone, though? Absolutely not.

“Why didn’t you just text it to him?” Damian stares, hiding his annoyance at Adrien’s phone swap.

“Because I care about him as a person, and if he were here, he would want those digits manually put into the phone of the guy he likes,” Adrien sticks his tongue out. “He’s living vicariously through me.”

Jon’s amusement is on full display, “Really?”

Adrien nods enthusiastically, “Yes. I know him really well. He would want this, trust me.”

Jon snorts, “I’ll text him later and let him know you said that.”

“Why not now?” Adrien asks, knowing the cameras would probably catch onto that.

“I wanna think about what I’m going to say… Also we need to get back to work.”

Adrien flops dramatically back onto Damian, who pushes him off with no sympathy.

“Betrayal!”

“Perish.”

“Rude.”

Jon grabs Adrien’s hand and hauls him to his feet, causing a big blush to cover his face as he stares at the super with wide eyes. “You’re like. Really strong, dude.”

With a smirk, Jon says, “Some people would call it super.”

Damian had just stepped behind him when Adrien grasped his heart and collapsed back into his brother’s arms.

“Damian, he punned. I almost want to marry him instead.”

Damian gives him a flat look and drops him.

“Um, Ow?!” Jon helps Adrien up again, a little gentler this time. “Damian, you know I would never. I love you. And Jon’s crush would be, well, crushed.”

Damian gives him another flat look.

“Don’t make me kiss you. I know you like to keep it behind closed doors, but if you keep pouting, I’m going to lay one on you!” Adrien threatens.

Damian glares, “Try it and see what happens.”

Adrien pouts. “You see this, Jon? He said he loves me, and now he won’t even kiss me.”

“Dude, you threw up when we got here. Yeah, you brushed your teeth, but you know Damian. He knows it happened. It’s imprinted on his brain,” Jon nods solemnly.

“I’m sorry I forgot, hubby. Don’t worry, I’ll clean extra well when we get home. You promised me I could suck on a lollipop and I’m not losing the opportunity.”

Both men stare at Adrien for his euphemism, Damian’s face looking quite constipated as he fights both the blush and disgust.

“I like the cherry flavor,” Adrien adds. Are there cherry flavored condoms? Yes. And he’s counting on the audience through the cameras believing that when Adrien really just wants something sweet to recover from almost kissing Damian. That’s his sister’s job, thank you very much.

Damian turns and walks away, unable to deal with this, while Jon bites his lip to avoid laughing.

“Damian, what do you want us to start on?”

“Pack up the kitchen! We can use the dishes. She…” he pauses, his voice getting softer. “She picked them out herself.”

“On it!” Adrien chirps, pecking Damian’s cheek as he walks past, causing Damian to wipe his cheek in disgust, the vomit earlier being a good excuse to do so. Can he tolerate cheek kisses from his brother? Absolutely. But they’re putting on a show, and frankly, he doesn’t want to put up with them when it isn’t mandatory.

“Rien, my cheek! The vomit! Do better.” Damian says, going to wash his face in the bathroom.

“Whoops,” Adrien can’t help the startled chuckle that leaves him. His intention had been to tease his brother, but he had completely forgotten about the whole vomit thing. The euphemism entertained him too much.

Adrien and Jon work on packing the kitchen while Damian steps into Marinette’s office, something they had built specifically to protect the fabric within, meaning there was no dust to begin with. He wanders, letting his thoughts drift as he sees designs she had made him, pausing when she sees the onesie she had designed for their son. He tears up again, rubbing his eyes with his palms and Adrien comes running. “Hey, Dames, are you-Oh.”

Adrien takes in the room, takes in the passion that used to run in his sister’s veins before her memories were taken. “She designed for the baby,” Damian whispers, eyes locked on what could have been.

“Damian,” Adrien sighs, wrapping his arms around his brother. “She’s in a better place now. They both are. You know it.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I missed all of those milestones, Adrien. They were taken from me. Every appointment, every sonogram. I never even got to see a sonogram. Every milestone in the parenting books where the baby’s the size of a fruit. All of that. Taken away by some car crash. I’ll never get to see his first steps, not in person. I missed his first word. I- God, I can understand why my father was so angry at my mother. I was just lucky to know my baby existed. That he still does…somewhere. In another universe, we got to stay together. But in this one…it wasn’t our time,” Damian starts to sob, supported by his brother as he sinks to the floor of the studio.

“I miss her, too. I bet she would have looked radiant through every step of her pregnancy. Up until the birth, of course. Then she would be cursing you to high-heavens. I’m sure one of us would have video-taped it, to remember everything.”

Damian looks up at Adrien through his tears, “Really?”

Adrien’s tears coat his cheeks as he responds, “Yeah. I think we would have documented every milestone we could. Marinette always wanted to do a baby book, you know? And she’s so sentimental, she’d keep every little thing she could. Your baby would be so loved, and so well-documented.”

“I love you, Adrien,” Damian says, wrapping his arms around his brother.

“I love you too, Damian,” Adrien whispers back.

--

The boys in the cave were not the only ones watching. Though many believed she did not have a heart, the woman on the other end of the screen chose to keep it for a select few. One of them being her son.

Well, she may not be able to enter Paris, but she can certainly deliver something to Gotham.

Afterall, what kind of grandmother would she be if she hadn’t made sure her grandson was healthy every step of the way?

--

Meanwhile, the boys in the cave were wracked with guilt and anguish. They’d deprived themselves of watching their niece or nephew grow, but more importantly, they’d ripped those experiences away from their little brother, one who turned to his former fiancée’s brother for love. It’s possible he’ll never have children at all. Sure, he may adopt, or they could have a surrogate, but they took their little brother’s chance to watch his love swell with their child. They can never give that back to him.

“Do we-do we keep watching? I-I feel like I’m intruding. They clearly love each other. You know getting Damian to say that is like pulling teeth. From the innermost row of a shark’s mouth. While it’s still fully aware of it’s faculties and can feel everything. But he’s said it at least twice since they’ve been there. You can see in their eyes that they love each other. Damian’s a fantastic actor, but he can’t fake love. Not like that.”

“How can we protect him?”

“We don’t. That’s what got us into this mess in the first place. We can’t shield him from heartbreak, especially when we’re the ones who caused it. All of us have had our hearts broken, and all of us, apart from Dick who is unfortunate enough to be the eldest, had an older sibling give a shovel talk. Why was Damian’s fiancée the one we acted on? Why was she the one we took too far?” Jason asks.

“I think part of it is he’s the baby. It’s natural to want to protect him, but he’s so prickly. So we jumped on the first chance we got. It’s also ridiculously hard to get him to show emotions. But Marinette? She did it easily. I think…at least for me, there might have been some jealousy involved. He and I didn’t get along for years. And this pint size woman slaps him in broad daylight and somehow ended up carrying his child? Meanwhile I still struggle to get him to call me by my first name.”

“But it’s more than that, Tim. While you both would have covered for me if I truly needed it, it would be extremely rare for you both to assist. But you did. Why did we do it? Have neither of you ever wondered?”

“Jay, we can’t blame something external. We can’t even blame the pits. We were all fully aware of what we were doing,” Dick said.

“Just because we were aware and thought we wanted it doesn’t mean we actually did. Do you ever think about that? We didn’t even ask Damian what happened. We jumped to conclusions, something that we were trained not to do. Something overrode our impulse control, our normal mindsets. We were aware, yeah, but that little voice that would normally make us pause wasn’t there. Or it wasn’t for me. Not while I was…” Jason looks sick.

Dick and Tim force themselves to think back, realizing that their brother has a point. Their conscience wasn’t there that day.

“We have to report this.”

“And admit what we did? Damian will hate us.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? We’ve already pushed him back to using our last names, if none of you caught that, and he barely acknowledges us when we’re in the same room. We have to start the conversations. I don’t want to lose what little relationship we have left, but we have to do this. If not because it’s the right thing, then because he deserves the truth. Marinette deserves the truth. And we need to find out what actually happened that day.”

Chapter Text

As Damian and Adrien work to calm themselves down, Jon does his best to remain in the kitchen and give them privacy (as much privacy as he can give as a super). He packs the room quickly but efficiently, pausing when he finds something hidden in the back of one of the cupboards.

“Huh, wonder what this was doing here?”

As he grabs the photograph of Damian and Marinette, Damian smiling down at her fondly as she laughs, a slot in the wall slides open, revealing the Miraculous Grimoire and a notebook, one that appears to have been used as a diary prior to being hidden away.

“Hey, guys? I think I found something you might want to see!”

The two men come to the kitchen.

“I pulled this picture out, and it caused the wall to open,” Jon laughs sheepishly.

Adrien grabs the grimoire, verifying its authenticity through the magic connecting with his own. Damian, though, grabs the diary.

‘Found your diary, little mouse. And the grimoire, too.’

‘Important things to find. Up to you if you read the diary, but if you do, I would wait until you’re done there. Unless you want to cry. Then by all means, go ahead.’

Damian hesitates to open it when he gets that warning, but ultimately, the small bit of the Black Cat within him urges him onward. The first half of the book is from Hawkmoth’s occupation of Paris. The second half, though…that’s her time with him.

He skips through most of it, wanting to get to the end, wanting to read what she wrote leading up to her disappearance.

Damian’s mother interrupted our meeting. She seemed to disapprove of me, but that didn’t bother me, nor did her thinly veiled threats. Just because she’s an assassin doesn’t mean I haven’t picked up a few tricks of my own. If I could survive everything Adrien’s sperm donor threw at me, I have no doubt I can handle what Damian’s mother is capable of. Damian, though…he doesn’t see it that way. With the baby, he’s extra cautious. I think he’d be a bit more open to considering my side if I wasn’t pregnant, but his protective instincts are haywire right now. I know he’ll calm down and come back, so I’m not too worried, but…it doesn’t make his lack of faith in me hurt any less.

The page has a few tear stains and Damian’s guilt begins to fester anew. He sits at the table, intent on reading more.

Damian’s been gone for one day, and I’m a wreck. I’m confident in us. I am. But this is the first time I’ve had to sleep alone in two years, and I couldn’t do it. I felt…empty. Like part of me was missing. A phantom limb, a growing hole left by his absence. The pain is more than I thought it would be. I have no doubt his return will heal it, but for now…

More tear stains, and Damian’s afraid his own may begin to join them.

It’s only been a few hours since my last update, but something in me is telling me to prepare. I need to protect myself. So I’m creating a senti-double. No consciousness, that would be too cruel, just an avatar for me to use until the feeling resolves itself. My instincts have never steered me wrong before. I just hope nothing happens before Damian comes home.

--

It’s been a few days since Damian left, and the feelings still linger. Both the pain of his absence and the foreboding. Nothing’s happened, though, and I’m starting to get restless staying home all the time. I can’t use an avatar forever.

--

Jason has my double. The feeling of foreboding is echoing like a warning bell inside my mind, a blaring signal telling me that something’s about to happen. But…I’m not sure Jason is the true threat. Damian, if you find this, know that I didn’t blame you. I love you with everything I have in me. I’m not sure what’s coming for me, whether the warning is what Jason’s about to do to my double, her handwriting gets shakier here, correction: what Jason has begun to do to my double, and oh fuck, it hurts. I’ll do my best to never detail it, you deserve to know that your family is willing to go to any lengths to protect you without knowing just what those lengths are, but Dami, if something happens to me or the baby, make sure your next lover takes them seriously when your brothers warn them against hurting you. I love you.

--

Someone just broke in, her handwriting is frantic, sloppy. My double is already gone. This was what I was being warned of, the second thing. Jason was definitely something I needed to protect against, but now I can’t do the same for this.  I’m sorry, Damian. I love you.

Damian breaks down in tears, pushing the book away. Jon takes it with the grimoire.

“You know where to take these, Jon,” Adrien says seriously as he grabs his brother’s hand and pushes comfort down the bond.

“I’d tease about not following orders again, but this isn’t the time. I’ll follow yours, Adrien. Maybe more than just this once,” he adds shyly before vanishing, flying the two books to Paris as fast as he can, knowing they need to be secure and his best friend needs his support.

“He read the diary, didn’t he? I can feel his pain.”

“Yes.”

“Remind him that it isn’t his fault. Then, send him to the next room. I know this is hard for them. But it needs to get done.”

“I will, Mar.”

“Oh, and Jon?”

“…yes?”

“I approve.”

A blush covering his cheeks, the super nods and flies away, back to his best friend and the guy he wishes wasn’t engaged.

When he gets back, Adrien’s in Damian’s lap playing with his hair. If Jon weren’t paying such close attention, he wouldn’t hear the soft purrs coming from not one but both men, their heartbeats racing. Must be self-soothing purrs, he thinks sadly, going over to the two.

“Ready to keep going?”

Damian peeks a bloodshot eye open at him then closes it again, letting his brother continue to soothe him.

Jon crouches before the pair, “Dames, it isn’t your fault. You have to know she wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

“Logic and emotion rarely agree, Jonathan,” Damian’s voice is stuffy, full of congestion from all his tears. Jon retrieves some tissues and a trash bin for the man to clean himself up a bit.

“Do you want to leave the apartment for another day?”

The purrs stop from Damian, but Adrien’s continue.

“No,” Damian’s heart is racing, as though the thought of leaving all this behind fills him with terror.

“Hey, calm down. It was just a suggestion.”

“I am c-Jonathan, I swear to all that is holy, if you say you can hear my heartbeat,” Damian threatens, forcibly calming the racing down to something manageable.

Jon raises his hands in surrender, though a shit-eating grin crosses his lips.

“Honestly, if he didn’t, I was going to,” Adrien says sheepishly.

Damian pushes him off his lap, causing the man to yelp as he falls to the floor yet again.

A pout crosses the blond’s lips, causing Jon’s heart to skip a beat, “You’re so mean to me, Dami.”

“Sucks to suck,” Damian flicks his wrist.

A wicked grin crosses Adrien’s face, “I’ll only know for sure when you give me that lollipop later.”

Damian kicks his brother’s thigh and gets up, stalking out of the room to return to the studio.

Adrien laughs maniacally and follows, Jon not far behind.

The trio take their time packing up the studio, none of them wanting to face Marinette’s wrath for potentially ruining anything.

“Hey, Dami?” Adrien asks, the innocent tone in his voice giving away just how much this is going to irritate Damian.

“Yes, kitten?”

“Do you think we could have kids someday?”

Damian drops the book in his hands as Adrien continues.

“A little boy of our own, maybe?”

I cannot throttle my brother. I cannot throttle my brother. I cannot throttle my brother.

“Maybe we could foster! And-and, if we do it before the wedding, he could be our ring bearer!”

I cannot throttle my brother.

Adrien pokes him, his absolute glee at riling up his brother flooding the bonds between himself and his siblings. Jon, to his credit, just smirks and continues to pack.

“What do you think, darling?”

“I think you’re asking to be dealt with later.”

“Promise?” Adrien asks innocently, knowing his brother didn’t catch his own innuendo.

“Wha-Oh, you little shit.”

Damian just barely resists tackling his brother, not wanting to disturb Marinette’s things.

“If we were not in Marinette’s office, you would not like what I’d do to you.”

“Jokes on you. Maybe I like it rough,” Adrien sticks his tongue out.

The glare Damian shoots his way promises retribution. Jon, meanwhile, chokes on his spit.

“Kinky,” Jon just barely recovers enough to choke out, shooting a grin at the blond.

“You have no idea,” Adrien’s salacious grin causes Jon to flush.

“For the record, I also have no idea,” Damian interjects, fighting to keep the disgust out of his tone.

“And you wonder why I’m so excited about the lollipop,” Adrien pouts at Damian taking away his fun.

Damian flips him off and finishes the last box from the studio.

“Okay, studio is done. There are the two bathrooms and the spare bedroom.”

“Care to join me in the bedroom?” Adrien winks at Damian.

“No. You can take Jonathan, though.”

“Le Gasp. How improper, Damian. Allowing your best friend and your fiancé to be alone in a bedroom.”

“Are you saying either of you are untrustworthy?” He raises a brow.

“Of course not!”

“Then I see no issue. Begone, peasants. I’m going to go empty the bathrooms.”

He departs before they can respond.

“If we’re peasants, does that make him the king?”

“He’s certainly a royal pain in my ass sometimes.”

“Does that mean him declaring us getting married is an arranged marriage?”

“I don’t think that’s how that works, Adrien.”

He pouts, “But think of the story, Jon. A king arranges a marriage between himself and a peasant, the peasant longs for another, the king longs for the peasant’s sister, but the king has no choice but to carry on his fake relationship with the peasant to protect the one he truly loves from those vying for the king’s obedience. The king and the peasant move in together to help sell the story and they grow closer, just not in the way people outside believe. Both long for another but are stuck in the arrangement until the day their loved ones are safe. Do you realize how many tropes there are? You’ve got fake dating between the king and the peasant brought on by the arranged marriage, roommates when they cohabitate, right person/wrong time for the ones they truly love, and it’s a Royal AU.”

Jon coughs, “But that’s not what’s happening here, right, Adrien?”

Adrien pouts at the reminder that they’re being watched.

“Doesn’t make it less of a good story.”

Jon pats Adrien’s shoulder in sympathy. “Wouldn’t it be something if there were soulmates, too?”

Adrien’s eyes light up, “Oh my god, you’re right! And secret relationships! Found family! Back from the dead! Mutual pining! Accidental domesticity! Reunion after years! The story overflows with tropes and there’s not even anyone to tell it to,” his lips fall into a pout that Jon wishes he could kiss off the blond.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’ll lose my focus,” Adrien says, fighting a blush as he looks away.

“Someday, Adrien, someday I’m going to make you focus solely on me.” Jon says, too soft for the cameras to hear, but loud enough for Adrien’s enhancements. Their conversation continues at that volume, their faces hidden from the cameras.

“You’re being reckless,” he whispers back, beginning to pack the sheets and blankets from the closet as Jon strips the bed.

“Call me reckless one more time and watch me prove you right.”

“This is the dumbest plan Damian’s ever had. All I want is for you to prove me right and I can’t even allow it. This is a disaster waiting to happen.”

“I can’t help that I’ve held a flame for you this long, Adrien.”

“You make me feel like I’m standing in the eye of the storm. Everything around me is total chaos, but you? You keep me grounded. Ironic, considering you can fly.”

“You’re the only person I can’t lie to, Adrien. Not about this. I wish he had come up with a different excuse.”

“We’ve been through worse…right? I survived my father, and you’ve faced your own demons. We can get through this, too.” After a pause, Adrien speaks up again, “…Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

Adrien focuses, letting the miraculous cut the cameras.

“Be reckless, Jon.”

In an instant, their lips connect, drawing a soft moan from Adrien.

“Jon,” he pants.

“Say it again. I like how it sounds when you say it,” he whispers against the blond’s lips.

“Jon, please.”

They kiss desperately, knowing their time is limited.

Damian, feeling Adrien’s chaos through the bond, rolls his eyes as he finishes the second bathroom and heads to the bedroom, knocking before entering.

The two within jump apart.

“I wasn’t flirting!” Adrien says.

“You absolutely were, or your lips wouldn’t be swollen, brother,” Damian says, catching on to the fact that Adrien blocked the cameras.

“Damian, I’ve said it to Jon, and I’ll say it to you. This is officially the dumbest plan you’ve ever had.”

“I thought we already established that when I first informed you?”

“…Well, it needed saying again. I can’t even kiss Jon without worrying that one of us is next,” Adrien pouts.

“We could always find a work-around. Open relationship, polyamorous, something along those lines.”

“They won’t believe that. It will give them more ammo against our relationship and you know it.”

Damian sighs, “Yes, and I apologize. Especially when the plan was even more idiotic than you realize.”

“How?” Jon asks warily.

“Marinette. When she was smiling weirdly? We planned for the two of you to finally confront your feelings while we were here.”

“You’re right. I stand corrected. That is officially the dumbest plan you’ve ever had. Yeah, we’re into each other, but Damian, this risks everything.”

“You deserve to be happy, too!” Damian snaps back. Then he lowers his gaze and his volume, “You both do. I understand that I have complicated things. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want my brothers to be happy.”

Sharing a glance, Jon and Adrien wrap their arms around Damian, pulling him onto the bed for cuddles.

“We appreciate that more than you know, Damian. But we’re playing with fire.”

“I’ll ensure neither of you get burned. You have my word.”

“I should buy you flowers.”

“You really shouldn’t,” Damian responds, looking at his brother warily as he signals that he turned the cameras back on.

“But you’re so sweet,” he curls into Damian more.

“I’m going to make fun of your night sunglasses again.”

“Don’t care. Doesn’t make you less thoughtful,” the blond mutters.

Jon, on Damian’s other side, adds, “He’s not wrong. Let your fiancé treat you, Dames. You deserve to be spoiled.”

“Spoiling me is how my mother fucked up my initial introduction to my father’s children.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t spoil your children?”

“That’s different and you know it. I can spoil them without encouraging arrogance.”

“Mhm. You’re right, Dames. We’re going to spoil our children rotten. But like…not rotten? Spoil them sweet? Spoil them-” Damian pushes Adrien off the bed.

“Oh my god, you have got to stop doing that!”

“But you make it so easy, darling,” Damian says, looking down at Adrien with a smirk.

“Whatever, let’s just finish packing.”

Damian and Jon get off the unmade bed, emptying the nightstands and dressers. Adrien returns to the closet, finding a few photo albums.

“Hey, Dames. Found something.”

He looks over in interest, grinning when he sees the albums.

“You shouldn’t look in one of those. You’ll see things you’ll regret,” he laughs.

Adrien immediately drops all the books.

“Gross, man. That’s my sister.”

“And? I was hers first.”

“Technically, you were mine first,” Jon cuts in.

“Jonathan, just because Marinette misunderstood us, and you decided to be an ass and play into that does not mean I was yours.”

“I don’t know, Dami. Sounds like you get around,” Adrien says teasingly. Damian flips him off.

“Fuck you.”

“Can I have my lollipop before I consider?”

“Adrien.”

A large sigh, “Fine. I’ll stop teasing. Are we done here? Officially?”

“Take these out. I’ll give it another walk through.”

Damian looks around the room as they leave, a heavy feeling settling in his chest. Walking through the now-empty apartment, seeing everything they built torn away makes a special kind of ache take root in his heart.

This was supposed to be our home, his heart whispers. Now it’s just a shell of what it once was.

“Yes, I think we’re good. Jon, can you get these to Paris?”

“I don’t follow orders, Dames. Except Adrien’s. Since apparently, he’s the boss.”

Damian raises an eyebrow.

“Nevermind. To Paris I go.”

The boxes disappear as he makes his trips, Adrien feeling the nostalgia and longing through his bond with his brother.

“We’ll be home soon,” he squeezes Damian’s hand.

“Yes. We will,” Damian says as the last of the boxes disappear. “Give me a moment?”

Adrien gives his hand another squeeze and lets go, walking out. Damian looks around, remembering what was and what could have been.

“It’s time to lay these ghosts to rest,” he whispers to himself. “Goodbye,” he whispers to the apartment, placing a kiss in the doorway in a rare display of vulnerability before he locks the door for the final time. Tears spill down his cheeks again, but he wipes them, feeling Marinette’s love pulsing through their bond.

Home is wherever she is. An apartment can be let go. But she is forever.

He walks away, finding his brothers waiting outside the building for him.

“Where to?” Jon asks.

“Let’s get an early dinner and head back to the manor to ensure I haven’t left anything there either.”

--

Though she regrets that her son had to feel the pain of heartbreak, Talia has no regrets about taking the Guardian. She wouldn’t have known her identity if she hadn’t been staking out the apartment when Marinette created her double. It didn’t take much to find a mage to remove the little bit of control holding her beloved’s children back, and with the double out of the picture, the Guardian was easy pickings.

Though her memories were lost, she proved a valuable vessel for her grandchild and a worthy assassin once her training was complete.

It’s clear her son found his way back to his own beloved, and though she no longer has her memories, it’s clear her son is working toward rebuilding their connection. His farce with the blond is blatant. A mother always knows. Had she not known, she would have killed the boy herself for daring to consort with the super, regardless of whether or not her son allowed it. The super would also face her wrath, but he’d be more of a liability to destroy. Damian is lucky that his mother is as perceptive as she is, lest he lose his companions.

--

“Bruce, we need to talk,” Dick says as his adoptive father walks into the cave.

“Can it wait?”

“No. It’s…it’s waited far too long already,” he says quietly, looking down. His brothers look down as well.

Joining them at the table, Bruce’s apprehension grows. “You have my attention.”

“Two years ago…we did something. Something irreversible. And…we don’t know why. We think there may have been external influence that took our impulse control. We knew what we were doing. We had no qualms about it…that is, until it was over.”

A pit forms in Bruce’s stomach as he looks around at three of the children he’s raised.

“I killed Marinette,” Jason whispers.

“I hid the body,” Tim follows.

“I lied to Damian about the cause,” Dick finishes.

Bruce’s blood runs cold.