Chapter Text
He’d found her when she was happy.
She’d broken through his cold demeanor and given him warmth, a sacred warmth he’d cherish forever.
She’d been her lovely self, and he’d fallen for her, unbeknownst to himself.
When he found out that he did, in fact, love her, she’d already become Ladybug, her shoulders sagging, her exhaustion showing. He decided not to burden her.
Then Lila came into her life.
Her genuine smiles slowly turned into fake ‘I’m fine’s, her light and warmth of a fire slowly became cold, dark ashes.
He’d tried to give her the warmth he could. He’d tried his best. But apparently his best wasn’t enough. It never was.
Then one day he found out she was self-harming to cope. She went distant after that.
He still remembers all the missed calls and texts, her excuse always being that she was busy while Tikki would hover in the background, silent tears falling.
The kwami could do nothing. Marinette had forcibly command-silenced her as her holder.
Then one day, she texted him.
“Goodbye, Dami. I’m sorry for everything. I hope you lead a great life with a great woman that is capable enough to stand by you and fight beside you. And I hope your kids will be just as valiant and courageous as you are.”
He didn’t know what that meant or where she was going, just that she needed his help.
He should’ve been able to get to the Zeta Tubes faster.
But he’d tried his best. It wasn’t enough.
She’d taken the jump already. He was precisely half a minute late.
A blur of nurses, ambulances, the police asking for his statement but he was frozen and couldn’t reply.
Deja Vu.
Tim had done this years ago. He’d been lucky and didn’t die. Would Marinette be lucky?
He heard someone say something. They said Marinette was stable now.
Thankfully, she survived. But who’s to say she wouldn’t do this again?
So he took her to Gotham.
For a year, everything was okay.
She seemed to get better, practising yoga, becoming more joyful.
Then, she persuaded him that she could handle herself, and took Titus out for a walk alone.
Apparently, she hadn’t been getting better all this time, just coping with a higher amount of self harm than ever before.
She was successful that day. Titus couldn't get back to them fast enough.
At first his family decided not to tell him that she had died, pretending she went back to Paris instead.
But he knew the truth. The horrible, horrible truth.
He’d just pretended to believe it, fooling his mind time and time again, trying to keep himself from spiralling.
Now? Now he just couldn’t take it anymore.
He counted out the pills.
Twenty-nine.
Twenty-nine pills of paracetamol.
A glass of water.
That was all it took.
Now he’d get to meet her in heaven.
What would she say to him? “I told you to stay, I told you to grow up and be with a good woman, a good family, your brothers, your father… Damian, why?”
…Beeping. He heard beeping.
Oh. It was just his alarm clock.
Marinette hadn’t died.
He hadn’t died.
It was just a bad dream. Effect of the newest fear toxin that they had been hit with.
“Damian, you okay? You cried a lot in your sleep! I tried to wake you up but you wouldn’t!”
Sweet, sweet kwamies.
Marinette was alive and breathing, and sitting on the edge of his bed.
She was in Gotham.
She hadn’t asked him to let her go for a walk alone with Titus.
Damian’s mind could no longer tell apart dreams and reality.
“Marinette?” He sat up, and promptly hugged her.
“Your wrists. Can I see your wrists?” He said.
She hesitated and looked away. “Why would you want to see my wrists all of a sudden?”
“You’re cutting again.” Damian said.
Marinette froze. Why did he know? How could he know? Who told him?
He took her small hands. She tried to pull them away but she couldn’t. She couldn’t match his strength out of the suit.
He rolled up her sleeves. There they were.
Fresh cuts, still bleeding.
“You do it when I am asleep?”
“No! Damian I wouldn’t-No! It wasn’t-” She took a deep breath. “I don’t usually do it, it’s just today I’d-”
Damian let her wrists go. Silent tears fell from his eyes.
“Again? Marinette! Why didn’t you tell my brothers? Or Tikki? Why didn’t you just wake me up and tell me?” He sounded hurt. Like he'd trusted her. Which he had, she thought.
“I-this is the first time I gave in, this week!” She panicked.
Damian had told her not to. But she did do that, didn’t she?
“It’s Tuesday. That doesn’t make it any better.” He wiped his tears and said, coldly.
The words came out harsher than he wanted. But he couldn’t help it.
He left the bed.
He’d seen it all happen in front of his eyes.
Could he prevent it this time? He couldn’t in his dream. So why even hope?
No. He’d try.
He’d try and do better than his best.
He would. For her.