Marinette's earliest memory of Damian was from when they were four.

Nonna had come to visit Paris with a friend from work who happened to have a son who was Marinette's age. They'd set them up in the living room in view of the kitchen where the adults were talking. Or maybe not really talking, but instead doing the thing where they sounded like they were going to yell but were trying to whisper so as not to make too much noise.

But anyway, Marinette didn't pay much attention to them.

She wanted to play with the boy that had come to visit her. She tried talking to him and sharing her dolls, but he didn't want to even look at her.

Damian was too busy stabbing a coloring book to death with a red colored pencil.

He said he didn't have time to play silly games when he had important work to do. And then he pressed the colored pencil against the paper so hard the page ripped. He did that several more times, getting more aggressive with each stab.

Nothing was going to stop him until all of the pages were shredded.

Absolutely nothing.

It was weird.

Damian was a weird boy.

So after a number of attempts to get him to play with her, Marinette puffed her cheeks, crossed her arms and stomped away. She didn't need him. She could play make-believe with her dolls all by herself.

Marinette waddled to a corner by the couch and played by herself while Damian did his own thing a few feet away. Each in their own little world.

Then Damian's mother walked into the room, picked him up, and they left.

Marinette said bye.

Damian grunted.

The two would have a number of playdates after that.

Each happening at a random time. Once during the middle of the work day while Marinette's Maman and Papa were busy manning the bakery. Once on a cold winter weekend while they were vacationing in the Alps. Once the day after Damian's birthday, and then on Marinette's Birthday. By the time they were both six, they were having playdates on a near monthly basis.

They were constantly being shoved together by the adults. Damian didn't want to be there. Marinette would rather play with other kids who actually wanted to play.

But no matter how many times she went to her parents about it they just shook their heads and told her to give him a chance. He doesn't have any friends, and doesn't get to play with other kids his age very often.

He was a very lonely boy.

Then Marinette would argue that maybe Damian didn't have any friends because he doesn't want them. But nothing ever came from it.

Damian's mother kept bringing him over and dropping him off at the Dupain-Cheng household. And the two children continued to awkwardly exist within the same vicinity for however long Damian was expected to stay over.

Damian didn't talk much to her, and Marinette didn't talk much to him.

They figured out a system and it worked.

Then things started to change. It was right before Marinette started École.

Maman had taken the two of them out to play in the park while Damian's mother was away. As long as they stayed where Marinette's maman could see them from her spot on the bench they could run around and do whatever they wanted so long as it wasn't anything bad.

But Marinette didn't want to run around. She paced the path around the grand central fountain, walking lap after lap after lap until she started feeling dizzy.

"Stop doing that." Damian finally ordered. He was sitting on the edge of the fountain being crabby like a crab.

Marinette did not stop. She sped up.

By her fourteenth loop around she could see the scowl etched onto the six year old's face. Then on her sixteenth go around the fountain, Damian had enough and stuck his foot out right in her path.

She tripped and fell flat on her face, her limbs splayed out like a starfish on the ground. Marinette lay there stunned for a few moments before springing back up onto her feet and yelling "HEY! What was that for?"

"You wouldn't stop going around in circles and it was annoying."

"But I'm worried! I gotta walk when I'm worried!"

"Why?"

"I start school soon. Not maternelle, but a real big kid school."

"Why would you be worried about that?"

"Because there's going to be lots of other kids I don't know and everything's going to be different and I don't like it."

Damian shot her an incredulous look. "Then don't go," he said as if it was as simple as that. "I don't go to school so it must not be important enough to worry about."

Marinette opened her mouth to argue but then she thought about it. "You're right." She said as it dawned on her. "Maybe I shouldn't go. Yeah! I won't go!"

So later that evening, when she was sitting down at the diner table with Maman, Papa, Damian, and Damian's mother who had only arrived a mere ten minutes earlier from work, Marinette loudly declared, "I have decided that I am not going to École."

Maman was surprised. "Why not, Marinette? I thought you were excited to go."

"I was but then I realized school is scary and I don't want to go. And Damian doesn't go to school anyway and he's fine."

Damian's mother, who up until that point had been eating her food silently and making no attempts at conversation, lowered her fork.

"That could be arranged." She said, a pleasant smile stretching across her face. "Damian has access to some of the best tutors in the world. It would not take much convincing for them to agree to take Marinette on as a student as well."

Papa suddenly looked very upset. "No. Out of the question. That's not the life either of us want for her."

Now Marinette was upset. "But why not?" She asked, "Why can't I learn with Damian's tutors?"

"Sweetie," Papa seemed to deflate, grappling for the right words. "It's complicated." was what he settled on.

But that didn't explain anything.

Marinette tried asking again not to go to school. Her parents wouldn't budge. She was upset for a while but then the time came to actually start school.

It was better than she expected. She liked her teacher and made new friends. Damian was right, it wasn't worth the worry.

Damian's longest stay at the Dupain-Cheng household happened when they were both nine, almost ten years old.

His mother dropped him off as usual. Although this time at three in the morning. She spoke to Marinette's parents for a bit, passed off her son, and then left.

Marinette slept through the entire thing. All she knew was that she woke up in her room and suddenly there was Damian passed out on the chaise longue, still in his clothes from the day before.

She didn't question his presence. Only gathered up a fuzzy pink throw blanket that her Nonna had given to her for her last birthday and draped it over the boy's sleeping form.

He didn't wake up, so Marinette slipped downstairs where her parents were preparing breakfast in the kitchen. She didn't have much time before she had to head to class.

As she ate her croissant and drank her chocolate milk, her parents told her that Damian was going to be staying over for longer than usual. They didn't know how long, but he'd be living with them for at least two months.

Marinette didn't anticipate that. The longest he'd come to visit was two weeks at most. Never more than a month.

Her parents asked her if she was ok with sharing her room with Damian.

She agreed, of course. Because where else would he go?

"How come you're staying with us for so long?" Marinette asked as she looked up from sewing the hem of a square piece of fabric. She was making a cute little bandana patterned with cartoon ladybugs.

"That's classified." Damian replied from his spot on the floor a few paces away from Marinette's desk. He was sitting with his legs crossed, and his shoulders hunched over his sketchbook.

Marinette could only see a corner of the page he was drawing in from where she sat in her chair. It was a picture of a small potted plant. The same one he'd grabbed off her window sill and positioned in front of him on the floor.

The drawing was actually good. He was trying to make it look as life-like as possible, and was a marked improvement from the color pencil stab art he used to create.

"Why is it classified?"

"It's classified."

"How come?"

" It just is. " Damian said with more heat than Marinette expected.

She was taken aback for a moment but then she noticed the tension in his features. The way he firmly kept his gaze on the sketchbook throughout the entire exchange. The way he gripped his pencil so tightly that it might just snap in half.

"Oh." she said.

There were two possible explanations. Either he didn't know, or he did know. Marinette wasn't sure which one was the better scenario.

Talia's job wasn't really… child friendly.

The woman never really hid anything from her son. Especially since she'd take him to work with her a lot. She only left him at Marinette's house if she was going on a really difficult business trip, and that was only because she trusted Nonna Gina slightly more than she trusted most other people.

And if Nonna said that the Dupain-Cheng household was a good place to leave Damian for a little while, then the Dupain-Cheng household was a good place to leave him at.

Marinette was quiet. And then she asked, "Do you want to go to the dog park?"

"Yes." Damian replied immediately. He shut his sketchbook and stood up. He seemed eager to take up Marinette's offer of a distraction.

"Come on then," Marinette got up out of her chair and put down her half finished bandana. "I want to pet some fluffy dogs."

Maman and Papa took them to the Louvre after three straight days of doing nothing but playing Ultimate Mecha Strike II.

Marinette was excited. The museum was massive, and it was impossible to see all of it in just one trip. That's why she'd been there plenty of times before. However, Damian had never been to the Louvre, and Marinette was determined to show him all of the best parts.

She was bouncing in place as they waited in line, bright and early in the morning. Then as soon as they got admitted, Marinette grabbed Damian's hand and dragged him to an exhibit she thought he would love.

Les salles de la Rotonde Sully.

A section of the museum that contained the largest graphic arts collection in the world. It had drawings, pastels, prints, and miniatures created by master artists throughout the centuries.

There were thousands of works there, and the cool part was that they were all extremely fragile. They couldn't be left out in the light for very long without sustaining damage. The exhibit was on a constant rotation, changing out the works that were displayed there every four months to prolong their lifespans.

The next time anyone would get a chance to see any of the art work displayed that day in the Rotonde Sully, Marinette and Damian would be fifteen. Which made the exhibit all the more special.

When they got to the room, Marinette excitedly pointed at every cool drawing, and information plaque about different drawing techniques and materials used throughout the centuries.

Damian followed her, taking in his surroundings with wonder-filled eyes.

It was only when she felt a tug on her arm, after they'd toured the exhibit for a while that she realized she never let go of Damian's hand. She flushed with embarrassment, and tried to pull her hand away, but Damian held firm.

"Come here," He said, gently tugging her down to a display she hadn't noticed before. Then he tipped his head towards the large portrait hanging on the wall. "Look at this."

And Marinette gasped. It was a gorgeous pastel drawing of a woman from the eighteenth century dressed in a stunning white gown with an intricate floral pattern decorating the fabric.

Her eyes were drawn to the tiny details. The creases and folds in the fabric, the different textures, the way the tiny blue leaves popped against the larger vines of gold, and the way the dusty pink flowers tied it all together.

It made her fingers itch for her own pencil and sketchbook. Inspiration swirled through her head, and she needed a way to bring it out into the world. But she didn't bring anything to draw with, so Marinette did the next best thing.

She pulled out the years old smartphone that was a hand-me-down from her parents to use in case of emergencies. It was chunkier than newer models but it still worked, even though it practically ran out of battery within an hour of using it.

Marinette began frantically typing out all of her thoughts and ideas spawned by this work of art. She glanced at the information plaque beside the portrait.

Maurice-Quentin de La Tour, Full-length Portrait of the Marquise de Pompadour is what it said.

And when she was done, Marinette looked back to Damian.

He seemed very satisfied.

They were in Marinette's room, sitting in a massive pillow fort that she had strong-armed Damian into helping her build.

They'd tossed some sheets across a few chairs and the chaise longue to create the concave roof and the flowing walls. Then gathered up every single pillow in the house and laid them all down on the floor of the fort, and covered them with the coziest, most comfortable blanket they could find.

All of the lamps in the bedroom were turned off, leaving only the glow of the star shaped string lights they hung up inside the fort to light the space.

Marinette and Damian lay on their backs, side by side, staring up at those warm stars, talking about everything and nothing.

Then Damian fell quiet. His mind seemed to be a million miles away.

Suddenly turned his head and said "I'm leaving soon."

Marinette blinked slowly. "What?" She asked, not sure what he meant by that. "Like, leaving the fort, or your maman contacted you saying she's going to pick you up?"

She hoped it wasn't that last one. Damian's only been around for a month or so, they should still have at least a month left before his mother comes back for him. Marinette didn't want their time to be cut short. She'd grown to like having him around.

"Neither. And Mother won't come for me for another three weeks at minimum." He hesitated, "But this will be the last time I'll be staying here."

Marinette immediately sat up, brushing the top of her head against the blankets above her, causing some flyaway hairs to stick up with the static.

"What?" She asked, her eyes wide in disbelief, "What do you mean this is the last time?"

"Once Mother finishes her mission, she will take me to the United States where my father is. I am to live with him for the foreseeable future." He said, pushing himself up into a sitting position as well.

"Do you want to go?"

"I have to go."

A distressed sound escaped the back of Marinette's throat. That wasn't a yes.

"That's not fair! You've never even met your father before, and you're expected to just live with a stranger?"

"He isn't a stranger. I've read about him, and heard lots of stories."

"But you've never seen him in real life. What if Batman isn't anything like the stories you've heard?"

"It doesn't matter, I'm his only blood son and his heir, so I am expected to uphold his legacy."

"So that's it then?" Marinette slumped forward. "After this we just… go our separate ways?"

Damian snorted. "Of course not," he said before pulling something out of his pocket, and handed it over to Marinette.

She accepted the object out of reflex and then blinked in surprise as she inspected it. "Where did you get a burner phone?"

"Remember when I got 'turned around' while we were out shopping the other day?"

"Yeah, your excuse for disappearing was paper thin. Maman and Papa definitely weren't convinced, and are probably going to chew you out for it if you do it again."

"So I'll make sure they don't notice next time. Besides, I got what I needed." Then he nodded at the phone in Marinette's hand. "That's for you. I've got the phone number memorized so I'll be able to call and text you while I'm living with my father. Don't lose it."

A slow smile spread across Marinette's face. "So we don't have to lose contact. Damian, that's genius! But do you know what this means?"

Damian shot her a questioning look.

"I'm going to send you so many memes."

Author's Note:

This is a gift for ali kat from the Maribat? Get in! Discord server gift exchange. I have it up on AO3 but I'm also posting it to ffn.