#drake manor *is* the concept of tim belongs in gotham. at home.

[artxyra]

Her Little Robins

Note: So This was supposed to be a longer (damn near 8000 words) one-shot, but after much thought, I decided to break up the mini-stories that I had placed at the end and decided to upload them separately. 

There is one person that Damian would even dare look up to and he hasn’t seen her since before his mother brought him overseas to his father. She was the closest thing he had gotten to a mother figure despite being the opposite. Within the League of Assassins, she was on par with his own mother, but she was just as untouchable. She barely had any free time, between taking on League missions and living her life in the outside world. No one knows how she even became involved with the League but there was one thing he knew for sure. It wasn’t long after his conception.

For the past year, he has been under the care of his father, the very person he doesn’t belong to. Even after a year, his father still doesn’t understand him. He shows his love differently. He doesn’t belong in this broken household. Damian wasn’t sure how he even managed with all the fighting. Though there is one thing he would never admit—is that he cares. Caring was one of many hidden traits he had picked up from her.

His father doesn’t know how to care for him, but at least he tries to. Which is more than he can say about his mother. She never cared, in fact, the only time she cared was placing him into her arms. The fresh smell of apple blossoms always calming him down. That scent was more home than anything he has ever been to.

The last time he saw her—was the first time he had ever cried. Her arms wrapped tightly around him as she tells him her goodbyes. Making promises that he knows would never be kept. She was leaving to save both of them—to save him. Damian could never admit it to himself, but the night she left was the night his grandfather had declared that Damian was of age to determine his loyalty. A trial that would surely end in his or her death.

He hated going to sleep that night. The cold welcoming his return. There was no apple blossom scent laying beside him. No hand caressing his hair as he fell asleep. No French lullaby that was specifically made for him being sung. Just the harsh winds.

“Be brave my petit oiseau. Luck will always guide you in your journey.” She whispers to him every night as he loses consciousness. Those words would forever stick with him. Just like his father’s statement “Justice not vengeance” would. Though he would prefer the one from her over any others.

It’s been three years since then.

Today he wasn’t sure what to do, the anniversary of her disappearance was approaching, and his father’s family still didn’t understand why he is crankier—or what they would say brattier—during this time. He just wants to be alone.

“My, my, petit oiseau, someone sure missed moi.” It was the way she always greeted him when he was little, and they were alone. Damian’s little legs would wrap around her own as she bends down to scoop him into her arms. When he was younger, he felt freer being around her. Her laughter was contagious. She would extend her pointer finger against his nose and giggles before blowing raspberries into his cheek which then caused him to laugh.

Instinctively, Damian curls into himself. He misses those feelings. Feelings that he’ll never get from his family at this rate.

So deep in his memories, Damian doesn’t remember entering the library, picking up a book, and finding comfort in the couch. He looks at the book that was opened in front of him. It was written in French. He has been in this room plenty of times and has skimmed every book at least once, so why does this book seem like a distance memory? The title was so familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

Behind him, he hears a gasp, “Little D, do you have any idea what that is?” Great, it was Grayson, the fourth person he didn’t want to see this evening.

“A book.” The youngest Wayne deadpans placing the book down on the couch and getting up to take his leave.

Before he could walk out of the door, he heard Grayson shout something, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care enough to listen.

As he walks back to his room, that French book stayed on his mind. The cover’s art style was unique, and it reminded him of her. She would draw him small artwork pieces and sometimes let him join her in the process, in fact, he still has the majority of the drawings that she and he made locked in a box underneath his bed. Then there was the book’s dedication page: “À tous mes petits oiseaux qui ont besoin de chance dans leurs moments les plus sombres.” That he could easily translate to: “To all my little birds who need luck in their darkest moments.” He needs to know more. Maybe that book holds the missing piece in finding her? He wants her back in his life, now more than ever.

However, that doesn’t explain how his father owns such a book. Let alone the reaction he had gotten out of Grayson just by holding the book.

~*~

“Hold on, you’re telling me that the demon reincarnated found Pixie’s book?” He heard Todd asks when he was on his way to the library. It was clear that Grayson had grabbed the book once he had left and gathered the rest of his non-blood-related siblings.

“Yes, that is exactly what I’m telling you. When I had entered the room to tell him that we are expecting a guest soon—which I couldn’t—he appeared to be in deep thought staring at the book. Like that isn’t usual at all.” Grayson explains and out of everything his older brother said, the word guest caught his attention. It was rare when his father invited people to the manor that has nothing to do with charity, galas, or potential business agreements. A guest usually signifies a Justice League member or a new sibling (something that he knows doesn’t need to happen).

“Isn’t this usually the time when the demon gets all moody?” When did Drake even pay attention to him? Of course, he is always moody, and he has good reasons for that.

“You actually pay attention to the little shit, Replacement? This is laughable, you’re usually the last one to notice anything.” Todd laughs to which Damian had the itching need to grab his katana and slice Jason in half. Though he had to agree, it was laughable as it was Drake who noticed it despite being in a coffee-induced haze for most of the time.

“Yeah, yeah,” Drake then pauses, probably to take a sip of coffee that will forever be in his hands. “That doesn’t explain how he would find Bean’s book interesting. Only those of us that have met her would find that book interesting as it’s—”

“We know!” Together Grayson and Todd scream.

“Look guys we can either keep hovering over the fact that Damian found her book or let it play out and see where it goes, just like Bruce and Alfred did for us.” Drake sounded tired which wasn’t usual but more tired than normal at this time of day.

“As much as I hate it, I agree with Replacement for this,” Todd responds without a doubt looking at Grayson when he said it.

Damian could hear Grayson sigh of defeat. The room goes silent just enough for Damian to make his presence known.

“What’s so important about the book?” He asks stepping across the threshold and eyeing the book that is in Grayson’s hand.

At once his brothers try to answer but one look at Damian’s face; they knew they could lie themselves out of it.  So, they opted for the oldest to speak.

“Look, Little D, this book means a lot to the family. The fact that you picked up just gave an insight into something we didn’t think you would have.” Grayson starts to which Damian tsks and looks away. He hated having this much attention on him, and the short explanation still didn’t answer his question.

“Then what makes this book so important to the family, that I had no idea of its existence until today?” Damian growls through his teeth. His brothers only look between one another which only made Damian even more agitated. “You know what, never mind.”

“Damian—” Dick is cut off by the door slamming in his face. He could only sigh in defeat as the figure of his younger brother disappears.

“So, what now?” Tim asks before taking another sip of his coffee. It was clear that his older brothers don’t know what to do.

Jason decides that now is the best time to take the book from Dick and throws himself onto the couch. He begins to read the book as if it was his only source of peace.

~*~

For Jason, the book was the only close connection he had to her. She was the mother he always dreamed of, and he hated it when she would leave for long periods of time. He hated not taking her offer to live with her. Months before his death, she had asked him to live with her, be the caretaker of her apartment back in France, but he had declined. Being Robin was all he ever wanted, and she knew that, but he also knows that something spooked her. She never did ask that again after the first time, and it kind of saddens Jason a bit.

The night before his death, she had called him asking for him to stay safe. To not get cocky about anything while being away. Stay in contact with Bruce, in fact, she specifically told him not to leave Bruce’s side. He should have listened to her warnings that night. Just maybe he wouldn’t have died by the hands of the Joker.

When he was revived with the Lazarus Pit, one of the first things he acknowledged was the words “Qu'est-ce qui vous est arrivé mon petit Jaybird?” What happened to him? He didn’t know what was happening. He was feeling so many negative emotions at once that he couldn’t differentiate anything. The last thing he remembered from that encounter was a pair of lips pressing against his forehead. The next thing he knew, he was lost somewhere he didn’t know but he somehow knew he had to find himself.

When he came back to Gotham under the impression that Bruce and everyone around him needed to go, it wasn’t Bruce that stopped him. No, it was her. She appeared between them with tears streaming down from her mask. He couldn’t harm her, not after everything she had done for him. It felt so wrong to have his fingers itching to pull the trigger, but he couldn’t let it go. Bruce needed to pay for giving up on, for replacing him.

They didn’t even exchange words, her tears were enough. She walked over to him, taking the gun away from him and gently placing it on the ground. He felt so alone as she pulled him into her arms whispering the French lullaby, she sang to him when he was down.

Jason doesn’t remember what happened next after that, but what he does know was that he had woken up in the manor and Bruce and sitting in an armchair beside his bed. They didn’t speak to one another—why it was because they didn’t know what to start with. Hellos? No, they already knew each other. I’m sorry? Not even an option, they’re too stubborn to admit anything. It was just a moment of silence. Not for the dead but for all the pain that they were enduring.

As he read the familiar words, Jason wonders how his life would have been having she not been a part of his life. She always knew what to say and when to say it. Never judging them for wanting to be heroes vigilantes. She was the glue that kept this family together aside from Alfred, and they all miss her.

“Hey Jaybird,” Of course it was Dick who had to return and ruin the moment.

“What do you want? Can’t you see that I’m reading?” Jason doesn’t take his eyes away from the book, it’s not like he could have anyway. Her words always had a way of entrapping the reader until the very end.

“Bruce wants everyone in the living room.” Dick answers pointing to the open door that was close just minutes ago. Jason huffs and places the book back on the shelf.

“Alright, let see what B has in store for us.” Jason walks past Dick and into the halls. Dick just stares back at the location Jason had placed the book. He was tempted to go grab it, but he knows, keeping Bruce waiting sounds like a bad idea especially since he asked for the family.

~*~

In the living room, Damian sat moodily in the armchair. Arms folded and all. He would look up to glare at his family members still thinking that they were all beneath him in taking the Wayne name.

“So, tell us, Bruce, what is the real reason you have us all gather here?” Jason observed the way the room was structured. Alfred was standing next to Bruce like usual while everyone else just sits and waits for the other shoe to drop.

“It has come to my attention that Damian found M’s book.” Bruce turns to his youngest, who was clearly lost in thought. Something he never thought would happen to Damian. Then again this isn’t the first time it has happened. “Damian, have you ever meet a person under the name of Marin Etta? Marin? Mari?” With each name, Damian shakes his head.

For Damian, the names were foreign. She was always Tatie to him as she never really spoke of her real name. It was mention once, but it has been so long that he had forgotten. In fact, tatie was the first word she taught him in French before moving onto the basics.

“No father,” Damian denies and leans back into his seat. Bruce sighs.

“Little D, you must have met her.” Dick states pointing fingers.

“Before this becomes a brawl, I would like to announce that she’ll be sending gifts to the manor,” Alfred states causing the boys, aside from Damian, eyes to bug out. Tim had to rub his eyes to make sure that he was awake.

~*~

For Tim, she was more than someone he looks up to. She was a person that he could rely on and rant to. When he first arrived at the manor, yes, he was excited, but at the same time frightened beyond disbelief. She picked up on this and offer to take him to her favorite little coffee shop. To this day, Tim swears she owns the little cozy coffee shop that they always go to when they needed a break. Those visits were always just the two of them and no one else.

Tim remembers when he took up the Robin mantle, she was furious at Bruce and even yelled at him for bringing into the battle when he was just a child. He is sure that when the Joker first captured him it was her that found him and took out the Joker, not Bruce. The only proof that he had from that encounter was Bruce looking like he was chewed out by his mother once he had recovered.

She was more than just a team member—she was family. The person that introduced him to the secret of making the right coffee. Something that everyone around him would look down upon. To Tim, coffee was more than his life source; it was a reminder of everything she ever did for him. It was one of the few connections he had to her and he doesn’t want to lose that.

So just being told that she is sending them gifts was such a surprise. She never just sends random gifts; her gifts were always well thought out. Planned for the person receiving the item. Tim had once received a coffee recipe book, something that he vows never to use unless she is with him. He couldn’t risk is family taking away another source of coffee for him.

Sure, they could go visit her whenever, but she never sticks around in one place. Tim remembers the time he tried to track her down and he came up with dead ends after dead ends. Not even Bruce could find her and he’s the world’s greatest detective.

~*~

“When do they arrive?” Dick had practically shouted earning Tim’s attention, something that is usually locked on coffee and or paperwork.

Alfred raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. Tim knows the family butler already knows the answer. It most likely that the gifts had already arrived, and he just wants to see them suffer over it.

“Master Damian please come with me.” Alfred requested to which everyone eyes the youngest Wayne. Damian was unsure what Pennyworth wanted with him and the fact that it was him and not his father, he was feeling anxious.

“Of course,” Damian answers getting out of his seat.

Dick watches the baby bird walk away from the family. He wasn’t sure what to expect from this encounter. Alfred rarely asks for them individually. Though he was heavily thinking about the presents his big sister figure may have brought him.

“Don’t even think about it, Dick.” Bruce grunts seeing the devious look in his oldest eyes. Dick blanches and turns around; he had some searching hacking to do. Knowing that Alfred would have hidden the items somewhere within the manor, he knew just where to start his journey. Years of being a part of the Wayne household has its perks, especially being trained by her to find all the hidden spots.

She was only a couple of years older than him. It never made sense to call her his aunt when they were so close in age. She was also the first person that Dick confided in after his parents’ deaths. She was with Bruce when he went that show, and she was first to comfort him even before the cops could take his statement. To traumatize by what he just saw, he didn’t comprehend the lullaby she was singing in French to soothe him.

Dick would never forget how she took it a part of herself to make sure that the manor felt like a home. Bruce was gone every night tracking down Zucco. She made sure he didn’t feel alone, uncared for. If it wasn’t for her, Dick doesn’t know what would have happened to him.

“Les étoiles sont brillantes ce soir, Dickie.” The stars are bright tonight, she had once said to him the night he was thinking about running away. He had everything packed and all he needed to do was open that window and jump out. Her voice caught him by surprise, so much that he had almost forgotten what he wanted to do.

In the end, he cried his heart out to her and she let him do it. He doesn’t remember what happened next, but the next day Bruce actually showed up for breakfast and sat down with them. It wasn’t long after that that he would become Robin.

~*~

Damian didn’t know why Alfred was leading him outside the manor. It’s not like he had forgotten to take care of Alfred the cat and Titus. Alfred stops short of the gazebo that is rarely in use unless someone plans on making a romantic dinner date of some kind. Damian was about to ask Alfred why they are here when a familiar feminine voice speaks. This voice was etched into his brain and before he knew it his arms were wrapped around a person’s torso.

“My, my, petit oiseau, someone sure missed moi.” He didn’t want to look up, too afraid for this to be a dream. Damian didn’t care if his cheeks were becoming wet, he just wanted to hold her tight. Never letting go. “Petit oiseau, oh how you have grown.” She speaks again, her hands caressing his hair to which he doesn’t complain.

“Tatie, tu me manques tellement.” Damian cries out hiding his face into her shirt. Moments later, he looks up to be greeted by the bluebell eyes that he loved so much. He never realized how much her eye color reminds him so much of Bruce’s. Though her eye color holds so much love and emotions, more than what he can say for Bruce’s.

“Petit oiseau, I am here now. How are you? Have you been treating your father well? Oh, Dami, I knew I should have taken you with me.” She says as she walks them over to the bench and sits down. She could see that Alfred was standing off to the side smiling at the duo.

Alfred then mouths, “I’ll leave you two be” to her, to which she nods and turns her attention back to Damian.

~*~

Returning the manor, Alfred was greeted by an excited Dick and Jason. He knew what they wanted; they wanted the gifts, but the gift is currently outside hugging her surrogate son.

“Master Richard and Master Jason, is there something you need?” He asks with an eyebrow raised. Alfred was known for a lot of things—he is required too in order to keep the manor afloat.

“Hey, Alfred, where is Little D, and how soon we will be receiving those gifts?” Dick asks as he and Jason share a forced smile. Alfred wasn’t buying it.

“Moments after the young master is done receiving his own.” With that, Alfred walks off with a smirk plastered on his lips.

All the Wayne men in the room look at one another.

“Hold on, did he just say that the Demon Spawn, is receiving his gift right now…what the flying fuck did he get?” Jason screams out and he would have stalk after Alfred if it wasn’t for Bruce’s glare practically telling his son not to do it, so instead, Jason huffs.

“It can’t be anything good if it’s for the demon,” Tim states finally coming alive from his coffee-induce haze. The teen was unsure of what was happening, but he knows it was a tense situation.

“We’ll wait for Damian to come to us.” Bruce says, “If the gift is dangerous, we’ll take matters into our own hands.” That was enough to prevent his sons from going after their younger brother.

~*~

Damian was having the time of his life being close to his tatie. He spoke to her with so much enthusiasm about his pets, mentioning his dreams in opening up an animal shelter, all the pranks he did on his brothers. Damian even showed her pictures of Titus and Alfred the cat was which is something he rarely does; heck, he doesn’t really show pictures of his animals to Jon, his best friend.

“That is wonderful, Damian.” She spoke with such a light laugh.

“Hold on, Tatie, how did you know that I was here?” Realization finally settles as Damian wraps his head around the fact that she knew where he was. They haven’t seen each other in three years and surely, she didn’t find his mother and demanded answers.

She sighs and allows Damian to sit up from his resting position. “Damian, I knew you were Bruce’s child since before you were born. There is a reason why I love that you call me Tatie because I am your aunt. Bruce is my older brother. My real name is Marin Etta Wayne, but most people call me Marinette.” She explains staring into his forest green eyes. Tears swell in her eyes almost like she was afraid to tell him everything.

Damian didn’t know how to react. Happy? Furious? Confused? He was so conflicted that he was rendered speechless. This person has been in his life since birth, has done more for him than his own parents, was actually his biological aunt.

Instead of reacting out of anger, he wraps his arms around her and mumbles a series of thank you in various languages. Her explanation solidifies the fact that she’ll never leave him.

“Je t'aime, mon petit oiseau.” She whispers to him.

They stay in silence until Alfred makes himself known with a loud cough. Damian had fallen asleep in her arms to which she was happily content with holding him. She looks up and gestures for Alfred to come closer.

“It seems that the young master enjoyed his gift,” Alfred states looking at the sleeping eleven-year-old. Marinette moves to scoop Damian into her arms. He was a lot heavier than when he was six. After getting into a comfortable position, she turns to Alfred.

“Has Brucie done this for him, before?” She asks as they begin to walk back to the manor.

“On occasion, usually when he is late coming in as Robin. Though it is nice to have you around again, Marin Etta, your presence always begin joy to the family.” Alfred answers, “Are you staying for the night?”

“Not tonight, Alfie. I’m sure the boys will go crazy over Damian’s gift until they see what it actually is. I’ll give them a shock tomorrow and stay for the rest of the week. Vic is helping Helena with some things, so I got time to spare for once.” She replies explaining her reasoning.

Alfred simply raises an eyebrow, he knows she’s withholding information from him, but he also knows that she will do anything to keep her problems under wraps. That’s the reason why she never told Bruce she was Ladybug until after the defeat of Hawkmoth and the creation of her vigilante persona, Kismet.

“In that case, I’ll take the young master and put him to bed. I will see you in the morning.” Marinette hands him Damian who didn’t want to leave her. He managed to tighten his grip around her despite never once waking up. Only after did she whisper promises of seeing him the next day did he release his hold on her and latch onto Alfred.

When Alfred walked inside with the sleeping Damian, he was bombarded by those he considers grandchildren. Jason was beyond in disbelief to see a koala version of the demon that usually glares at them. Tim thought he was hallucinating to the point where he pours the remains of his coffee out the window and walked away sluggishly. Dick was cooing and taking pictures, more than likely saving them for blackmail material. Bruce was wondering what put his youngest to sleep before even going on patrol. He knows that Alfred knows but getting information out of the butler is an impossible task.

“I guess Robin will not be joining us tonight?”

“That is correct, sir. The young master had tired himself out with his gift today. Shall I put him to bed or would like to do that honor?” Alfred answers readjusting the pre-teen in his arms. Bruce nods and takes Damian away from Alfred. It was moments like these that he misses. When his sister was younger, he would hold her and just holding her made him feel complete. Holding Damian was similar in feeling considering his height and weight.

~*~

Dick, Jason, and Tim were jealous of Damian. He had received his gift the day before and here they were sitting at the dining room table waiting for Alfred to show up. Damian had this smug look on his face the second his brothers bombarded him with questions regarding his present. He doesn’t give any indication that it was a person but an animal. That got his brothers to leave him alone for a moment.

Bruce had been the last person to enter the room. He was working on Wayne Enterprise paperwork that should have been completed earlier but wasn’t. Alfred walks in with a tray of food. As he set the plates down, they immediately took notice of an extra plate. Before either of them could question the butler, they heard someone say, “Bonjour mes amours!”

Before anyone could react, Damian runs out of his chair and into her arms. He wraps his arms around her and glares at his family members, daring them to come at her.

“My, my, petit oiseau, someone sure missed moi.” She chuckles returning the hug to the younger male. Damian doesn’t say anything, he just stays in her arms.

While the family stares in shock of seeing Damian showing emotions, it was also the shock at the arrival of the one person that hoped to show up soon.

“Mari!” A series of excited shouts echo through the room. Jason was the next person out of his seat and trying to push Damian away for space. Damian fought back, nearly biting Jason’s hand just so he could stay in his tatie’s arms. Jason glares his younger brother.

“Oh c’mon, there’s enough of me to go around.” She chuckles sending Jason a sheepish smile, “Dami, can you let go so that I could hug Jay-Jay and the others?” She looks down at the young boy, only to feel that his grip had tightened around her. She knows that he would not let go. “Dami, I promise to make you some of my infamous shortbread cookies.” At that request, Damian reluctantly lessens his grip.

“You imbeciles only have one minute with her,” Damian growls turning to his family acknowledging the fact that they also know his tatie. “59, 58, 57…” He starts to count down.

The older Wayne children knew he was serious, and they immediately jump to hug Marinette. Dick was smothering her having taken onto wrapping himself around her torso. She manages to stay afloat by resting Jason and Tim who were side hugging her. It surprised her that it wasn’t Jason who had the running start but wasn’t shock that it was Dick instead.

“10, 9, 8…” They all heard Damian continue. The moment the young Wayne managed to get to zero, he let out a battle cry and begins pushing his brothers out of his way. Damian latches himself onto her and glares at anyone that came within a certain radius of her.

“How the hell does the demon know Pixie, when he literally had no clue who she was yesterday,” Jason shouts as the excitement of seeing Marinette dies down among everyone.

Marinette chuckles and scoops Damian into her arms. If it was anyone else, Damian would have squirmed, complained, and demanded to be let down, but this is his tatie and he has little care for what his brothers think of him right at this moment.

“That’s because all Dami has ever known me to be was Tatie.” She explains as Damian grumbles into her neck.

“Wha!” The boys yell stimulatingly to which Marinette looks everywhere but at her nephews.

“How about this, let's finish eating the wonderful breakfast Alfred made first, then I will explain it all afterward.” She suggests walking over to the table as everyone behind her follows. They know to not disagree with her. She has just as much power as Alfred and could most likely get away with murder.

While they ate breakfast, there was growing tension. Everyone, aside from Alfred, Marinette, and Damian, wanted answers. Bruce watches his sister eat her portion of breakfast; he knows something was going on. Then he saw how quickly his youngest reacted to her like there was some form of bond that they share that he didn’t with his own son. Bruce isn’t that dense; he knows that without her his life would be filled with so much darkness and pain. She made everything tolerable, kept the family together even in their darkest of days.

When breakfast ended, they all gather in the living room. Titus trotted over to his owner and lay beside him.

“So, who’s first?” She asks as she pets Titus’s head as he was close to her and he let her.

“Back to my question before, how the hell do you know the demon?” Jason practically shouts pulling his ear.

“I’ve practically known about since his birth. Actually… even before he was even born. I knew Talia was up to something when she was constantly trying to get into Bruce’s good graces. As we all know, my ability to sense something is wrong is almost never incorrect. So, I followed her to the League of Assassin under a new identity. I was about to leave, but then she announces that she was carrying the league’s heir. I knew the child was going to Bruce’s.” She turns to Damian with a sad smile on her face. To this day, she hated the way Damian came into this world, but she would never give him up for anything.

“You side missions?” Bruce wonders aloud.

“Yes, when I wasn’t with the miraculous court or with the JL, I was with Damian watching after him. I became his caretaker when Talia took it upon herself to be his mentor rather than a mother. Did you know I was the first person to hold him? He had such a small tuft of hair.” Damian blanches when she started to gush about his childhood. He likes to keep that under wraps, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“Are you back for real…now?” It was Tim that has asked that.

“Oh, my petit oiseau de café, I’m here to stay. I can’t have you running Gotham without me.” Marinette answers with a wink, but she can tell by the looks of deadpan facials from the males she knew that they didn’t buy it. “I’m staying until the court needs me. That and I’m sure Kismet can bring a little luck to this city of darkness.”

“With that answer…welcome home, Sunshine!” Dick screams with excitement before flinging himself to his sister figure. Marinette catches the taller bird and laughs. However, the embrace didn’t last long as Damian pushes Dick off of her and takes over the filled space.

“Oi, she’s mine, you dolts, get your own.” Damian hiss at his brother who looked beyond offensive.

“Oh, hold on!” They all shouted, “We knew her first, you little demon.” This quickly became a tug-of-war for Marinette, who looks sheepishly between the boys, but she couldn’t help but laugh.

The second, Marinette was able to slip away from his nephews, she made her way over to Bruce. They didn’t say anything, though Bruce did hold his arms out waiting that that hug that they always do. Their embrace was not a short one.

“I miss you, Bruce.” She mumbles into his shirt.

“I miss you too, M.” Bruce pauses placing a kiss onto her forehead. “So, tell me about what happened in Brazil?” Marinette’s eyes widen at that request. She knew she had to come up with something fast, but she also knows that her big brother wouldn’t let that go. Brazil was an authorized JL mission that she joined Question and Huntress on, that didn’t end well per se.

“Oh, look the boys are about to break something.” She squeals turning their attention to the four brothers still wrestling on the floor. Sure enough, a loud crash is heard.

Bruce groans and wanted to yell at his sons for being too rough, but this was a typical morning. The boys would rough house at least three times a day before they all separated. Then again, it really depends on whether Jason and Dick decide to stay at the manor for long periods of time.

“Boys!” Marinette shrieks getting their attention to which they had the audacity to pretend that nothing had happened. They don’t want to play that game with her. There is a reason why she rules the manors better than Bruce.

“Yes, Tatie,” Damian speaks up first resisting the urge to run over to her and hug her in an attempt to make his brothers jealous. Who was he kidding, he would totally do that anyway just for the hell of it.  

His brothers glance at him; however, it was clear that Jason was glaring more so than anything.

“What?” Damian shrugs, “She clearly wanted our attention, isn’t that right, tatie?”

Marinette sends Damian a smile that the family knows all too well, that smile was not her usual friendly ones, it was sinister. “Oh, petit oiseau, you have no idea. Now, it still early in the morning, and I don’t want to spend my first day with the family babysitting you four, or do I need to call the girls have girls’ day with them instead?”

The looming threat of having the girls spend time with Marinette instead of them was enough for everyone to nod in agreeance.

“Now who wants to be the first to read my newest family book?” Bruce silently raises his hand which she sees out of the corner of her eye. Digging into her purse she pulls out a new book with an enchanting cover with the title written in French. She then hands it to Bruce despite the cries of protest from her nephews.

“I saw his hand first, actually I saw Alfred’s first, but he already read it. Didn’t you, Alfie?”

“Of course, I did, Miss Marin Etta, it was another novel that will go into the family history.” He smiles at her, to which Marinette sends him a blushful smile.

“Thank you, Alfie. Now, who’s up for a family drawing session?” This time the boys gather around her. Damian hisses at his brothers daring them to come any closer as practical koala himself into Marinette’s arms. Jason stares at the little traitor, planning his downfall.

“I should have introduced Damian to her when he first arrived. That would have saved us so many headaches.” Bruce groans happily acknowledging the sudden change in his youngest at the sight of his sister.

“That would correct, sir. Shall I prepare you some tea and scones while you read Marin Etta’s book?”

“Yes, thank you, Alfred.” Bruce pauses for a moment to open the book, he is immediately greeted with the dedication page, a smile appears on his face, “Actually Alfred, how about you go spend time with M and the boys after you’re done.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I know you miss her just as much as the rest of us.”   

Bruce turns his attention back to the dedication pages that read, “Une famille qui se bat ensemble reste ensemble même quand tout semble perdu.” A family that fights together stays together even when everything seems lost.

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