Chapter Text
1 month later
Marinette smiled, her hand reaching over the table to grab Damian’s. He quickly interlocked their fingers, bringing her hand up to kiss it.
“Thank you,” she said earnestly, her voice quiet, even to herself. Her eyes couldn’t tear themselves from his. He placed a kiss on the inside of her wrist, causing her to gasp. He smirked at the sound and let her hand go. Her face burned as she drew back her arm.
“Did you like it?” he asked, his eyes flickering down to the almost empty plate in front of her.
“You’re a very good cook,” she responded, her eyes meeting his again. But there was a sadness in her face, in her open expression, one that she couldn’t hide no matter how hard she tried. Damian stood, keeping her eyes on his, and walked over to lean down and kiss her. Immediately her hands went around his neck, and he could feel all the little places her nails caught onto as she let her fingers play with his hair.
Too soon, he pulled away, revelling in the look she was giving him. With another peck, he pulled away and took their dishes to the kitchen, where he placed them in the sink.
She followed his movement. “You cooked, at least let me clean.”
He shook his head lightly, sending her an amused look. He knew that she liked to feel productive and that her enforced bed rest was hard on her. But she could barely stand for ten minutes at a time without needing to sit. Which is why, as much as she liked to cook and bake, he had taken up those duties in their apartment.
Yes, their apartment.
They had already been living together for a while before the show, but immediately following it Marinette hadn’t woken for a week. When she finally opened her eyes, she just wanted to be at the apartment. Alfred took shifts, especially in the earlier days, making sure she was getting the rest she needed and was on her way to a slow recovery after her stunt with the Miraculous.
But the first night she was there, she insisted that he stay at her side, hand in hers, until they both fell asleep. Like the gentleman he was, he stayed in a chair next to the bed.
The third time he did that, Marinette told him he was being stupid and to get in the bed. Now, he didn’t know how to sleep without her curled around him.
He knew she had to be getting cabin fever, especially when he would leave for his reduced patrols at night and she would be alone.
It was a work in progress.
This week was the first time she was able to leave the apartment, albeit with supervision and a wheelchair nearby. It came in handy when she suddenly had a faint spell and needed to sit, even if she didn’t like being in it unless she absolutely needed it.
He finished rinsing and placed their dishes in the dishwasher, then walked back over to Marinette. It was time for their late night ritual.
Damian stood next to her, offering her his arm, which she used to hoist herself up. Slowly, the two made their way from the dining room to the living room, and he helped her down onto the couch. He sat next to her, letting his arm curl around her side as she furrowed in closer to his chest. He was sure she could hear the beating of his heart, even after doing this so many times.
“You should rest.” His hand idly trailed up and down her side. She hummed and leaned further into him.
It was quiet for a few moments. “Are you scheduled for patrol tonight?” she asked quietly. He probably wouldn’t have heard her if her head wasn’t buried in his neck.
He sighed, his hand stilling. “I am.”
She nodded and placed a kiss on his shoulder before settling further down and letting her eyes fall shut. “Be careful,” she said through a yawn, eyes still closed.
His heart clenched at the sight, not able to stop himself from lifting a piece of her hair behind her ears. She smiled but soon her face relaxed into sleep.
The next time she woke up was in their bed. Their empty bed. Her eyes shut for another moment before opening fully with a sigh.
Then she got up.
Gotham was always different at night. There was a sense of being watched that wasn’t there with the daylight, especially when one was hiding in the shadows and making their way across town. She had the patrol routes memorized and was taking a path that wouldn’t intersect with any of them, but she was cautious with her movements nevertheless, just in case any of them wandered from their path.
She wished she could just take the Horse Miraculous, but she couldn’t use it right now, not when she was meant to be taking a break from magic. All the magic use of the past year had caught up with her, pushing her body to the limit. Damian seemed to be in favor of the break as well, content to pretend that nothing was abnormal about her. He wasn’t very good at it.
The bar was dingy, especially when cast in the moonlight as the door closed behind her. Whatever. She wasn’t planning on being there for long.
Blond hair peeked out from the top of a booth. She immediately headed towards it, sitting across from the man there.
“Guardian.” His English accent was clear in the quietness of the bar. They were the only two there, and she suspected he had something to do with it.
“Constantine,” she greeted similarly, keeping her tone short. “You have them?”
He leaned back against his chair. “Don’t worry, they’re here.” She pursed her lips, becoming a bit frustrated. There was nothing beside him on the bench. He took his drink from the table, leaving a ring of water, and took a sip. Instead of placing it back on the table, he continued holding it in his hand. “Most people wouldn’t want to give me them.”
“Not like I had a choice.”
He laughed humorlessly at that. “That kind of power,” there was a glint to his eyes, “You have to be careful where you put it. I’m not known for giving things up easily.”
She didn’t break eye contact, but her heart pounded in her chest.
Constantine stared at his drink unmoving. Then, as if he were shot, he blinked himself out of his stupor and handed something over to her. “The pocket dimension,” he explained, quickly pulling his hand back and into his pocket. He pulled out a cigarette. “I think we’re done here.”
She watched as he lit the cigarette and took a drag, then looked down to the tiny piece of plastic in her hand. It was hard to believe the Miracle Boxes were in such a small area, even knowing magic was involved.
Marinette gathered herself and stood.
“Don’t take it personally,” he added, taking another drag. “But I’d have preferred if we never crossed paths.”
She hummed then looked back at him. “Goodbye John.”
He slumped further into his chair as she walked past, slipping the pocket dimension into her coat. She had walked most of the way to the door when she stopped again, this time at the sound of a voice.
“I didn’t realize you were friends.” She didn’t turn around to look at the owner.
“He owed me. Aren’t you supposed to be on the other side of the city?” She asked, a tad dryly.
Batman grunted behind her in lieu of an answer. “You have them again.” It wasn’t a question. The disapproval was evident in his voice, disguised as it was. She didn’t respond. A moment passed between the two in silence. Marinette started moving again.
“Robin said you got rid of them.” She paused again, this time turning her head to look at him. “Don’t make it known that you haven't.” For his sake, went unsaid. Although she couldn’t tell if he was asking her to lie to Damian or to avoid revealing their existence to the world. They had just defeated one adversary that was in search of the boxes and their power. She knew there were more out there.
After a moment, she gave a curt nod of her head, then left the bar the way she came.
When she got back to their apartment, Damian still hadn’t returned from patrol. But she woke up in his arms all the same.