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batsandbugs · 5 months ago

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I Need You (To Stand By Me)

AO3

Damian had just tucked his feet under his bedsheets when the buzzer outside his door indicated a late-night visitor. Throwing back the covers with a growl, he walked the few steps to his security console, determined to decline whatever ridiculous scheme his brothers had come up with. Instead, he was surprised to see Ladybug on the screen. She was dressed in civilian clothes, but the mask she wore to obscure her features had her signature spots.

Securing his own mask to his face, he walked back to the door and opened it.

“Ladybug–” he started, but she cut him off, eyes wide as she took in his shirtless, pre-bed state.

“Oh no! You were asleep and I woke you. I’m so sorry.” She was talking fast, cheeks pink, eyes looking off to the side as her hands flew about in wild gestures. “It’s just that it took me so long to admit to myself and build up the courage, and I just wanted to say it before…well, before…”

Her words came too fast for him to follow after that, and after a moment he put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him with a grateful smile, sucking in a breath and taking a few seconds to recenter.

“Ladybug, what is going on?”

Her eyes dropped to the floor as she sighed deeply.

“I’m leaving.”

He removed his hand from her, frowning in confusion. Leaving the Watchtower after a weekend shift was standard operating procedure for her, but this was the first time she came to his private quarters to say goodbye.

“I thought you’d already left.”

She looked up at him and, not for the first time, he wondered how her eyes were so blue.

“No. I mean I’m leaving. Retiring.”

“Oh.” He looked away then, a strange knot forming in his gut. They had formed a partnership of sorts over the years, especially after Jonathan decided to take on the mantle of Superman from his father. Damian felt…bereft when the Supersons dissolved, and she had been an unexpected balm to that wound.

“I’m giving up the Miraculous,” she said, plucking at the hem of her oversized pink sweater with nervous fingers. ��Hippolyta has agreed to become the guardian and the Miracle Box will be safe on Themyscira. She’s going to find a way to free the kwamis, and in the meantime she’ll take far better care of them than I ever could.”

Her smile was sad as she paused for a moment, looking away again before taking another deep breath. She let go of her sweater and clasped her hands together, fingers white from the tight grip.

“I’m here now because giving it up means I won’t remember.” She looked up at him then, blinking away tears.

“Won’t remember?”

“Yes. I won’t remember anything about the Miraculous, being Ladybug, or many of the friends I’ve made since the box came to me.” One tear escaped and she reached up to brush it away. “I was fourteen when I became the guardian. Ten years of my life is already a lot to lose, but I’d rather start over now when I still have time to make a life, than live a whole life only to lose it all at the end.”

She reached forward grabbing his hand, her warmth tethering them both to that moment.

“I wanted to say goodbye before I go. I probably won’t see you again. And if I do, I won’t know you.” Her smile was watery as she squeezed his hand. “You’re a good partner, Robin. And a good person too, underneath that scowl. Don’t forget.”

His breath caught as she leaned up on her toes. With her free hand resting on one side of his face, she gently kissed his cheek. She turned away, letting go, but before her fingers fully left his grasp he tightened his grip.

“Wait,” he said, pulling her back to face him. “Don’t go.”

Just a hair's breadth away, he leaned down, face flaming as he pressed his lips to hers.

He pulled away after a moment, worried when she stood still as a statue with her eyes closed.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” she whispered.

Then her hands were in his hair and her lips were on his, clinging with desperation as he pulled her into his quarters. As soon as it clicked behind them, he pushed her against the door, pouring everything he didn’t know he felt into kissing her back. His heart thundered when she wrapped her legs around him and kissed down his neck, sending shivers down his spine as the fingers of one hand trailed down his arm.

He relished her warmth as he wrapped his arms around her. Supporting her weight, he stepped away from the door and staggered to the bed, sitting down with her in his lap. Her eyes were wide when she pulled away.

“Are you sure?” she asked, running the tip of her thumb around the edge of his mask.

“I am.”

His pillow smelled of her when he woke the next morning to find a note she left behind.

Robin,

I can’t stay. I’m afraid that if I wait for you to wake up, then I will never be able to leave you.

I’m sorry.

Dick sat on a bench in a park, basking in the abundance of sunshine in Paris. He never realized how much he missed the sun until he left the Gotham smog behind to visit a place with less gloom. And Paris was a city overwhelmed with cheer in comparison.

Families were having picnics in the grass while their children ran around, laughing and yelling while they played games of tag or hide and seek, or giggled together while they waited for a turn on the carousel.

He pulled out his phone to send pictures of the apartments he’d viewed that day to Damian, along with his own opinion on each one, when his attention was diverted by the sound of a distressed child. He looked around and saw a little boy crouched at the base of a nearby tree. None of the adults nearby seemed to be the child’s parents so he got up and went over to help.

“Hello. Are you ok? Can I help you find your parents?”

The boy looked up at him with tearful green eyes and Dick felt a lot like someone had just punched him in the stomach.

“This baby squirrel fell out of the tree and I can’t reach to put it back in the nest,” the child sniffled.

Dick stared at the boy, completely tongue tied, until he started to cry. He looked up and saw the nest was within his own reach, if he did a small amount of climbing.

“Don’t worry, kiddo. I can put the baby back with his family.”

He scooped up the tiny creature and carefully climbed the tree to put it back in its nest. Once the squirrel was back where it belonged, he swung down, landing back at the base of the tree with a thump.

“Wow, that was cool!”

Dick bowed dramatically.

“Let’s get you back to your parents, ok?”

“Ok!”

The kid ran off across the park and Dick followed after, determined to find out who this child’s parents were. The boy glomped on a young woman with black hair sitting on a blanket with a group of her friends, talking and laughing about something. He stopped just close enough to hear what they were saying.

“I’m not saying he’s evil, but I am saying that all rich people are trash,” he heard a blonde woman say as she waved around a pair of chopsticks.

“Chloe, you’re a rich person,” replied another woman.

“That makes me an authority on the subject, Alya,” the blonde snarked. “There’s no way a man that rich and that good looking doesn’t have some sort of major skeleton in the closet.”

“Uh…can we help you?”

“Maman,” the little boy said, “that’s the man who saved the baby squirrel.”

She stood up, brushing off her skirt and approached Dick, the little boy suddenly shy and hiding behind her. Her hand rested on top of the boy's hair.

“I just wanted to make sure he got back to you ok.”

She smiled at him.

“Thank you for helping, Mr…?

“Dick. Dick Grayson.”

“Right. Dick. He’s always finding little creatures that need saving.”

They stood there awkwardly, all of her friends staring at him with expressions ranging from confusion to annoyance.

“Well, nice to meet you then Dick, I hope your stay in Paris is pleasant.”

She turned to go back to the group, but he reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“Wait, please,” he asked, as she ripped her arm from his grip and shoved the boy behind her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just…there’s not an easy way to ask, but, who is the boy's father?”

“It’s not any of your business!” she exclaimed, then shooed the child back to a tall blond man who’d stood up when Dick grabbed the woman’s wrist.

“I know it’s not, I’m sorry, it’s only that he looks just like my younger brother. And I mean, like twins.”Marinette gaped at the strange man standing in front of her, absolutely terrified of the implications.

He was the first person ever to indicate a connection to Thomas on his father’s side, and this whole ordeal was bringing up everything she’d worked so hard to get past.

Just over five years ago she’d woken up in a hospital after a terrible accident that caused her to have amnesia. She couldn’t remember an entire ten year period of her life. If that wasn’t scary enough, two months later she’d discovered she was pregnant. With no memory of ever having slept with anyone, she was left completely in the dark as to who the father of her child was.

She knew it wasn’t Adrien. Not only had he denied it, he even consented to a DNA test. His actions had helped smooth the path to rebuilding their friendship, and now he was part of her family as her brother. He even changed his last name to hers, so Thomas could have his Uncle Adrien be a real part of her family.

Her parents were thrilled to gain a son and a grandson all at once.

Whoever he was, he had never come looking for her or tried to contact her in any way after the accident. She didn’t know why, if he didn’t know or just didn’t care, but either way she was left alone to raise their child with no way to find him. It hurt Marinette that she had no way to contact Thomas’s father. He had a right to know he had a son, and Thomas had a right to know his father, but she didn’t even know where to begin looking.

And now, here was a man who said her son looked just like his brother, and she was terrified that he would accuse her of keeping his brother away from his son and try to take Thomas away from her. Her heart was pounding and she was starting to struggle a little to breathe, until she felt Alya’s familiar grip on her shoulders, grounding her.

Now was not the time to panic, not when she had Thomas to take care of. She reached up and grabbed Alya’s hand, giving it a squeeze so she’d know she was ok. Marinette glanced over to her friends to see that they were clearing up the picnic things, Adrien having taken Thomas home.

Marinette took a deep breath.

“Truthfully, I don’t know.”

“Girl, you don’t owe this guy anything. Even if his brother is the father.” Alya glared at Dick. “The guy never even tried to find you.”

She turned to her best friend, her heart full with the amount of love and protection she knew Alya felt for her.

“I know Als. I do. But we also don’t know the reason behind it. If Dick can offer some answers, I want to try to find them. Worst case is that I’m no closer, and best case is that my boy will know who his father is. But I can’t do it if you aren’t with me.”

Alya pulled her into a hug.

“Of course I’m with you. We’re all with you.”

Marinette collapsed into her in relief. Then she turned to Dick.

“I will tell you my story. You can take it, a photo of Thomas, and a DNA sample home to your brother to test. Tell him I don’t need anything from him, and if he is my son’s father he may choose to be involved or not. In return, I ask that you tell me the results, and if your brother is a match that you also tell me his name. Not for me, but so that when Thomas is old enough, he may choose to find his father.”

“And she wants that in a binding contract,” Alya said, pulling out her phone and typing furiously as she talked, and then looked up. “So you can’t weasel out of telling her. You’ll have one month, which is more than generous. I’ve already contacted Marinette’s lawyer to draw up the paperwork.”

“Ok. I agree.”

Alyawas now glued to her phone, messaging everyone, while Marinette’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She looked at it and sighed.

“Felix says to come to his office. He’s already there, drafting the contract.” She rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t know how to take a day off.”

She turned back to Dick.

“Are you ready?”

Damian’s phone was ringing but he couldn’t find it, buried somewhere under a pile of discarded sketches. Whoever it was didn’t give up, continuing to call until finally, he pushed a pile of paper and heard it hit the floor.

Richard Grayson.

Of course. He accepted the call.

“Damian, finally!”

“Hello, Richard,” he answered. “Why are you calling me at four in the morning? I thought you had an early appointment for a viewing tomorrow.”

“I’m catching an early flight home, and I need you to meet me at the airport in Gotham and take me straight to the Manor.”

Damian stood up quickly.

“What happened?”

“It’s not something we should talk about on the phone. I swear, I’ll tell you everything when I get there,” Richard replied, followed by the sound of zipping luggage. “My flight leaves in two hours. Be there.”

The next eight hours while Damian waited for Richard’s flight to land were tedious. He rescheduled his meeting with his Parisian realtor, since he wasn’t sure now when he would be able to settle on a home there. He tried to sleep and when that didn’t work, he packed a few boxes of non-essentials he could do without until the move was complete. He thought about contacting his father but figured that if something was really wrong there, Selina would have called.

Driving to Gotham was a chore, and he had to leave extra early to account for the morning rush hour in New York. He still only arrived just in time to see Dick standing on the sidewalk in front of the arrivals hall, waving him down. After the luggage was stowed, they drove towards Bristol and his father’s home.

He looked over at Richard, who was bouncing his leg.

“Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

“Do you have a secret love child you’ve never told me about?”

Luckily they were stopped at a light, so when Damian stared at his brother in disbelief, no accidents took place.

Richard pulled out his phone and opened his photos. The child depicted in the picture was the spitting image of himself at age five, except smiling for the camera. He pulled into the next available space on the street and took the phone from his brother.

“Who’s child is this?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you unless you are, in fact, this boy’s father.”

“What do you mean not allowed?”

“I mean, I signed a legally binding agreement stating that I wouldn’t say unless you’re a match.”

Damian scowled.

“Damian, look at this child, he looks exactly like you. Do I need to give you the lecture I got about using protection?”

“Tt. I hate this conversation enough already.”

Richard just raised an eyebrow at him.

“I have never had unprotected sex, Richard.”

“So the child isn’t yours.”

Damian glanced to the side.

“How old is he?”

Richard took his phone back and switched the screen to a document. “He’ll be five in February.”

“Then yes, he could be mine. It’s not a one-hundred-percent guarantee, is it.”

Damian felt a strange sense of calm come over him, knowing that this child, if he was his, could only belong to one person, and he had been looking for her for five years. Finally, he may have found her. He tuned back into whatever Richard was saying.

“...his mother gave me a sample of his DNA to do a paternity test. If you match, then I’m allowed to tell you who she is and how to find her.”

The drive to the Manor felt like it took too long, and waiting the two days for his father’s equipment to perform the test felt like an eternity. And then suddenly he was holding in his hand proof that he was a father, and the name of the woman he’d been searching for since the last time he saw her.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. And her son, his son, Thomas Emile Dupain-Cheng.

@maribatserver

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