So after I couldn't find that fic, I decided I was gonna write my own version of it, because the idea was wonderful and I, apparently, actually cannot live without this fic existing.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Lost in Paris
Summary:
Damian has had enough of being treated like a child, or worse, as a bomb waiting to explode and kill those closest. After a conversation with Bruce about doing some vigilante work solo goes south, he comes to the conclusion that he is better off leaving home.
Little do his family know, he doesn't intend to return.
* * *
HEAVILY inspired by a fic that was deleted recently. Obviously it has my own take and writing, but I can't add the fic as an inspiration as it's not here anymore. Rated teen for language
Notes:
Heyo, so after I wrote the one shot, I became consumed with writing my own take on the fic that got away. So here's the first chapter of that.
All six have been written, but I need to take some time to read it through, make any edits, and make sure it makes sense! There is limited French throughout the fic, I'll be providing translations in the end notes.
Hope you all enjoy!
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
Chapter 1: Jason
“…as though you can stop me, Father.”
Red Hood paused as Demon Spawn’s clipped voice echoed from further in the batcave. The loudest silence Red Hood had heard in quite a while followed it and he slowed down to eavesdrop.
“Tt, when will you admit that it is time I set out alone, to attempt my own vigilantism? I am a child no longer and refuse to be treated as such.” Robin sounded haughty and angry, a not unusual combination.
“I didn't say you couldn't become your own vigilante, Robin. I merely said that you would need a new mantle. Robin is Batman's sidekick, he does not stand alone. If you are ready to pass it down, I’m sure someone else will take it up. Someone always does.”
Red Hood winced at Bruce's words. Sure, all of them had held the title of Robin at one point or other, but the Fourth Robin was the most adamant that it was rightfully his, as the only blood son of Batman. And that was saying something, given Red Hood's little nickname for Red Robin and the hatred he had harbored after he found out he had been replaced. He held still as Robin drew back his hood and removed the mask.
“Father, I am Robin, it is my identity and I do not have to discard it if I do not wish to - which I do not. But if you will not give me the freedom to work without you, then I will not stay. I understand that you did not choose me, that I was thrust upon you by Mother but I have been here for 8 years now. Why do you not trust me to wear the mantle with honour?”
“You know why, Robin,” Batman growled, and there was warning in his voice. Damian clearly heard it too as his shoulders began to tense, though he said nothing. After a moment's pause, Batman continued. “You are still too angry, and you need supervision to ensure you keep to our ideals.”
“Your ideals, Father,” Damian said, his voice soft. He sounded more weary than angry and he waved Batman off as the cowled man loosed a growl. “It is of little importance. We are clearly at an impasse and nothing shall be gained by having this argument with you again. I shall be gone by morning.”
The sharp clicks of Damian's shoes were the only sound in the batcave and Red Hood counted his blessings that he hadn't been part of that conversation. Sure, Demon Spawn wound him up, but he wouldn't have thought he'd regress to his League days. Hell, some days Hood thought that he was more likely to snap than the youngest in their crew.
He slid casually into the main cave at that point, not even pretending not to have overheard the entire thing. It seemed that Batman wasn't in the mood to chat so he made himself scarce, going up to see Alfred and maybe he could scrounge some food from the kitchen. He didn't realise that this was a point in time that he would wish he could turn back to, many times over the coming years.
_ _ _
3 weeks later, and the cave was a riot of noise, voices echoing harshly. Jason hadn't suited up yet, but that didn't stop him from dropping casually into one of the chairs around their planning table so he could work out what the problem was. When the noise just continued, even increasing if that were possible, Jason let loose a shrill whistle to get everyone's attention.
“Thank you, god you lot are ridiculously loud tonight. We having trouble deciding who we're supposed to take down? Oh, hey Dick, undercover mission over with already?” He nodded at his older brother but he only got a curt ‘hi’ back. That made him sit up straighter; Dick was sunshine incarnate, but when he got angry, he got angry. God help the soul he aimed his rage towards. “Oh, shit, do we have, like, an actual problem? Did a rogue escape or something?”
“No, Jay, we're missing a team member,” Tim said sharply from the batcomputer. Jason did a quick look around but there were several of the family absent so he turned around, concerned. Tim sighed, “Robin, Robin is missing, Jason. He's been gone for several weeks and we can't find him anywhere.”
“Wait, weeks?” Jason sat up straighter, glancing towards Bruce - a look that was caught by Dick and immediately acted upon.
“What did you do, Bruce? Wait, forget that, what did Bruce do, Jay-bird?” As Jason recounted what he'd heard, Dick grew angrier and angrier, until he was agitatedly bouncing on his toes and glaring at Bruce. “So your son tells you he's gonna leave and you, what, just pretend it's not happening? For 3 weeks?!”
“Damian can take care of himself, Dick. If it wasn't true, he wouldn't have taken himself out of the role. He said he wanted to spread his wings, which of you hasn't wanted that?”
“You accused him of being one bad day away from murdering his enemies!” Dick shouted, exasperated. “And when has any of us completely cut off the whole family? Even Alfred hasn't heard from him. Has Jon? And where are Titus, and Alfred the cat? If he was coming back, he wouldn't have disrupted them!”
“You are reading too much into this and it is a waste of time. He will come home when he realises he was wrong and that's the end of it. Can we now focus on patrol?” There were noises of dissent and Tim continued to type furiously but they began gearing up. Dick shot another glare at the Bat and declared that this would be his last patrol with them if Damian didn't get in touch before the next one.
_ _ _
Jason was sitting in Dick’s apartment, watching with concern as the man paced relentlessly. It had been a month since his last family patrol and he was no closer to finding out where Damian had gone. He had League training so when he wanted to vanish, he could make a damn good go of it. Unfortunately, that left them with nothing but dead ends.
“What did Jon say?” Dick growled into his phone, muttering what Jason was pretty sure were curses in Romani. “Well, where does he think he went? I don't know, Tim, that's why I've been coming to the computer geniuses! Babs says she hasn't had any luck with known aliases and I know you haven't either. I'm at a loss, Jay hasn't had any success with his contacts and he hasn't reached out to me.”
Jason listened in silence and Dick devolved into a rant about how Bruce didn't value Damian enough and treated them all relatively poorly. He heard a short reply from the Replacement and could almost imagine the little twerp with a hand wrapped around a jumbo mug of coffee as he hunched over the keyboards. He thought back to how tired Damian had sounded during the argument with Bruce and frowned. Surely Damian would pop up again one day soon, there wasn't far an 18 year old with none of the family money could go.
Tim had hacked the bank records for Damian's private account and there had been a withdrawal for a decent sum on that first day, but nothing since. And the idea of Demon Spawn getting a job with none of the references from Gotham was laughable. But after the first month had passed with no contact, they had to admit that there was less and less chance of him coming home.
5 years later
Jason stood in the watchtower, staring at the screen in front of him. He had been doing his usual rounds, checking for chatter in some of the less underground communities to see if any of Damian's aliases had surfaced. When that had hit its usual dead ends, he decided to review Robin's original profile, to see if there was something they had missed in their initial sweep for potential allies and safe zones.
Jason had never been particularly adept at navigating the system for files and didn't want to pull up the wrong Robin file so he typed in ‘Damian Wayne' and saw the file. But, curiously, there had been another, newer reference to the name. Had one of the other heroes done a search on him recently?
He clicked the link and was flooded with a metric shit-ton of information spanning the past 5 years. There were credit searches, a courthouse request, hospital records, all in French and linked to a couple of addresses in Paris. He hesitated another minute before deciding to download the information onto an external drive and then scrubbing evidence of his search. Whilst he wasn't Babs or Tim competent, anyone doing a cursory look would see nothing amiss. And there were very few people searching for Damian these days.
It was a few hours later that he made it back to his favourite safe house to finally review the information he had garnered. He was nervous as he connected the drive to a device, wondering if he finally had a lead that would give them back their brother. He scanned the most recent entry and saw an address linked to a recent credit card application. His brow furrowed but the ID used certainly looked like an older Damian.
He jumped up, too jittery to read through the entire pack of information. He'd always been more of a ‘do now, think later’ kind of guy. He could catch a Zeta tube back up to the watchtower and then get into Paris immediately. He checked the route from the Paris tube to the address before grabbing his civilian leather jacket and a domino mask.
The time difference between New Jersey and Paris was distinct. What had been a brisk but clear December afternoon there was a wet and dreary evening here. The drizzle had started not long after he had arrived and looked to worsen in the near future. He was watching the tall apartment building, hoping to spot his brother before he made an approach but with no success.
After twenty minutes, the heavens opened, forcing his hand. He could either stay where he was, getting more and more drenched, and risk getting sick, or bite the bullet and knock on the door. With a steadying breath, he slouched across the street and raised his fist to the door.
“Attendez, s’il vous plait,” came a feminine voice, and Jason panicked. That definitely wasn't his brother’s voice, had he made a mistake? Perhaps someone else had the unfortunate luck of having his brother's name, his age. He hesitated a fraction longer and the door cracked open, a shorter French woman looking up at him quizzically. “Oui?”
“Uh, pardonnez-moi, I, uh, shit,” he fumbled for the words not knowing how to phrase it. Her brow furrowed further and he felt the panic mounting. “Is, uh, is Damian here? Damian Wayne?”
“Un moment, monsieur,” she said, eyes narrowing slightly as she took in his features. The door snapped shut and he heard a muffled conversation, the light voice of the woman and a deep masculine voice that made Jason tense up in anticipation. The adrenaline thrummed in his veins as the door opened again and the small woman reappeared.
“Please, monsieur, come in,” she said politely, opening the door wide. Jason heard another door in the apartment close softly. The room was spacious and sparsely decorated, a three seater and two seater sofa selection which she gestured towards him to sit down on. “You speak English, non? I speak it too, so we can converse in that, if it is easier for you.”
“Uh, yeah, thanks, mademoiselle.” Jason’s eyes darted around nervously, taking in as much as he could. “Listen, I'm sorry for just showing up here, I just- I've been looking for my brother for years and I found something that said he was living here and I-”
“Monsieur, please, moins vite, slower, I cannot comprend- understand if you speak that fast,” she said, in a soothing manner. She had leaned towards him, frowning but not so much that he worried about being thrown out. He took a deep breath and gave her a shaky smile in apology. “Merci, now, you said the word ‘brother’, that means frere, non? Why are you looking for him now?” After all this time was implied, but not said outright so he wasn't sure if that was what she meant.
“Sorry, my brother, Damian, left home several years ago, he got in a fight with our dad. We thought he was cooling off at first, maybe spending time with a friend,” Jason said, taking care not to speak too quickly. “He was 18, you know? He was allowed to have a little time to himself. We've all chafed against the old man at one point or another- I mean,” he corrected, seeing her confusion, “we've all fought with Bruce at different times. We thought he was gonna cool off and come home, but he never did. And we couldn't find him, we tried, we were so sure we would manage but then days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into yea-”
“I understand,” she cut in softly, placing a hand on the back of his. He took a shuddering breath and realised he was close to tears, rambling in his nerves. She was about to say something else when a door opened and a tall, familiar man stepped into view. He had filled out some, his limbs no longer holding the gangliness of youth but firm and solid. His hair was still jet black and ruffled looking and his eyes the same piercing green.
“Damian,” Jason choked out, shooting up and launching towards the man. He looked even more uncannily like Bruce, the same jawline, similar builds, but he had a softer edge. He caught hold of Jason, gripping the back of his jacket tightly as the larger man shook slightly. “God, I can't believe it's really you.”
“It is me, Todd,” Damian replied, releasing himself from the embrace. They looked each other in the eye, Jason's still with that edge of pit madness but Damian - Damian looked at peace. “I must admit, I did not anticipate you visiting so suddenly,” he added drily.
Jason let out a short bark, shrugging even though all he felt was overwhelmed. “None of us expected you to keep using your actual name, Demon Spawn. God, we searched so hard, Dick was furious with B. I don't think he's spoken to him properly in years.”
Damian frowned but then the woman stood up and spoke softly in French to him. He rumbled something back and she nodded, patting Jason's arm as she passed him to go to another room. Damian indicated the sofas again and they sat down, a tense silence settling in the room. Having another person in the room had helped to ease some of the tension - Jason and Damian had never been close. But they were still brothers and Jason had been so angry with Bruce when he realised that Damian was gone.
The sound of a kettle filled the silence and the woman poked her head back around the door. She smiled at them both, a sunny, bright expression. “Pardon, would you like un thé ou un café, Jason? Or jus? We have orange or apple.”
“Uh, coffee's fine,” Jason muttered, trying to let the tension in his shoulders dissipate. He turned back to Damian after she bobbed her head once and vanished back through the door. “She, uh, she seems nice.”
“Marinette is a great many things,” Damian said, clearly amused. “Nice is the least of them, but I appreciate you saying so. We have been through much together, and she is very strong.”
“So are you…” Jason trailed off, not sure how to say it without offending someone. He waved his hands helplessly, hoping it conveyed his sentiment and Damian snorted. He was saved from answering by Marinette coming back into the room with a tea tray.
“I have sugar, lait, some macarons and cheese with crackers,” Marinette said lightly, placing the tray onto the coffee table and perching next to Damian. He reached a hand for her knee and she placed hers on top of his. Jason spied matching rings on their fingers and his eyes widened. Marinette noticed the direction of his look and gave another laugh, squeezing Damian's hand lovingly. “Oui, Damian and I are married. We have been for nearly two years.”
“Congratulations. I gotta admit, I didn't think you were ever going to settle down Demo- Damian,” he corrected, seeing Marinette's eyebrow rise. Damian nodded, glancing at his wife with a slightly chagrined look on his face.
“To be honest, the Demon Spawn you knew would never have deserved to marry Marinette,” he admitted, waving away her sudden frown. “Ma cherie, you know I speak the truth. I was a mess of a man when we met, I lashed out at everything and everyone.”
“Mon coeur, you were nothing of the sort,” Marinette reprimanded firmly. It sounded as though this was a well worn argument and Jason was almost envious of the evident love he could hear in her voice. Not that he thought Damian didn't deserve it, but he had often yearned for the kind of love that was pouring out of this petite French pixie. “Heureusement, you did not lash out at me too harshly, and accepted that you could not do this all alone.”
Jason was shocked - Damian had settled down. The pair had clearly grown together, matching each other in their differences. And Damian had changed, even more than he had begun to during his time in Wayne manor. He seemed more sure of himself, confident in an easy way. Jason cleared his throat again, drawing their attention back to him. “So, uh, if you got married, how…how much have you talked about your past, D?”
“Ah, I wondered if you would be concerned about that, Monsieur Hood,” Marinette said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. She waved her hand as he tensed again. “Damian and I have no secrets. It is difficult, making a life together, without sharing such things. I understand the importance of keeping these things to myself. We are, comment dire, birds of a feather?”
Jason raised an eyebrow himself now but they were interrupted by a soft cry, coming from an adjacent room. He tensed but Marinette sighed and made to get up, before Damian shooed her into her seat, standing himself. He came back moments later, carrying what looked like a bundle of blankets that he cooed to in a mix of French and Arabic. Jason went rigid with disbelief as Damian settled himself back into his seat. A shock of dark hair peeked out of the blankets and Jason sucked in a sharp breath.
“Her name is Penélope Robyn Dupain-Cheng. Penny for short,” Marinette said, her voice soft and full of love. Jason's head whipped towards her and Damian chuckled.
“It seemed fitting, I had no need for the mantle and it connects me to my past without shackling me. Marinette understood better than I did that I did not want to lose who I had been.” Jason was stunned. Damian was speaking so nonchalantly about a moniker that he had almost killed for - what he had considered a birthright. His voice softened as he looked back up at his brother. “I am truly at peace, Todd. I let go of my anger before I married as it would have been unfair to Marinette if I had allowed it to continue consuming me.”
“How-how old is she?” Jason croaked, transfixed with his niece - his second, after Kor’i had given birth. He couldn't remember how old Mar’i had been when she was this size and the Tamaranean in her could have changed things.
“8 months,” Damian said softly, turning his gaze back to his daughter. “I would do anything for her, Todd. She will want for nothing as long as I can control it. She is loved, in ways I didn't know were possible.”
A silence stretched between the three adults and Jason took a sip from his now tepid coffee. His mind was reeling; he felt as though everything he had ever known about Damian was wrong and now he was meeting what was essentially a stranger. Penny had clearly drifted back to sleep and Damian stood to take her back to her room. Marinette cleared her throat as he left, making Jason shoot her a questioning look.
“I must ask you, are you here as a lookout? When should I expect your father,” she clipped the word out, thinly veiled rage coating it, “to descend upon my home? I must warn you, I will not allow him to harm Damian again.”
“They aren't,” he answered flatly. She looked at him again, surprised. “I told no-one of my suspicions, I came alone. Like I said, we've all fallen out with Bruce at one point or another and when Damian left…well, let's just say the team isn't running quite so smoothly any more.”
“I thought you were all ‘the world's greatest detectives’,” she replied sardonically, dropping her voice as she heard Damian returning. “If you are lying to me, I will not be contente, comprennez?”
“My love, please tell me you are not threatening our guest?” Damian rumbled, laughter barely concealed in his voice. “I apologise, Todd, she is protective of those in her care, a trait from her younger years.”
“Je suis toujours jeune, Damian,” Marinette said, a light growl lacing her words. He nodded sagely and Jason snorted. It was just so…domestic. If someone had told him 5 years ago that Damian, the little brother who threatened anyone who breathed near him, would be married, with a kid, he would have had them committed to Arkham. And yet…
“They all miss you, lil D,” Jason said softly, imitating Dick for a moment. “Tim was frantic when he couldn't trace where you went, he still gets upset when he thinks about how he failed you. And Dick - I mean, he loves you, you know that. If he could have ripped B to pieces without ruining Gotham, he would have. He has a kid himself you know,” he added, setting his cup down.
“But I didn't come here to ask you to come back. I can see you have a life here Dames, a good life. Christ, I didn't think it was possible for anyone to give up our particular lifestyle and settle down but you clearly did and it's obviously been the best thing to happen to you. I'm proud of you, for whatever that's worth. I just…I would like to be part of your life again, I want to get to know the you now. Don't get me wrong, you were a little beast before you left, but you're still family. And I don't have a whole lot of that left.”
“Well, it's not like we can just leave,” Marinette said, with humour. “Merde, maman et papa, they would kill me if I just disappeared with their only grandbaby.”
“And- am I welcome back?”
“D’accord, but I will ask that you only share the information with your father if he specifically asks about Damian. It is a talk we had as soon as we were expecting Penélope, he is not welcome to my family without begging Damian for forgiveness.” The steely note in Marinette's voice brooked no argument, and Jason had none to voice. Bruce was the reason Damian had left all those years ago and he was the one who asked least often about any updates.
“What about Dick? You know he would love to see you, if he hadn't been undercover when you left, he would have at least known where you went.” Damian nodded slowly at this, making Jason grin with relief. “Awesome. Wow, okay, that's great. Thank you, Marinette. I'll take down a number and we can coordinate a visit sometime? I doubt you want to come to Gotham,” Damian's eyes narrowed and he shook his head tightly,” so I'll have to get Dick here himself.”
As he stood to leave, Marinette and Damian also stood, the slight woman stepping forward first and pulling him down for une bise, kissing his cheek with warmth and familiarity. She stepped back and carried the tea tray through to the kitchen, giving the brothers some space. Damian clapped a hand onto Jason's shoulder and received a light punch in return. They exchanged numbers before Jason promised he would text as soon as he was home again, and then when he had spoken to Dick about coming back to visit.
As Jason stepped into the Paris zeta tube, he glanced back over his shoulder and smiled. Trust Damian to move to the city of love and figure all his shit out.
Notes:
So let me know what you think! I'm going to try and update once a week-ish, but may post chapters sooner if I'm ready.
French used:
Attendez, s'il vous plaît = wait please
Pardonnez-moi = pardon me
Un moment = one moment
Monsieur = sir
Mademoiselle = miss
Moins vite = slower/less fast
Contente = happy
Comprennez = understand
Je suis toujours jeune = I am still young
Merci = thank you
Un thé ou un café = a tea or coffee
Jus = juice
Lait = milk
Mon chéri/ma chérie = my darling
Mon coeur = my heart
Heureusement = fortunately
Comment dire = how to say
Merde = shit
Maman et papa = mum and dad
D'accord = alright
Une bise = Literally, a kiss, usually how they refer to the kiss on the cheek they give to say hello/goodbye
Most of the French throughout this fic is what I've learned through Duo, so if I offend some native speakers, I'm really very sorry! I have double checked it in Google for the most part, but I'm not sure that's better.
Chapter 2
