Chapter Text
Damian was about ready to skin The Riddler alive. Sure, he should be used to Gotham villains at this point, but he wasn’t used to this peculiar situation and he didn’t know what to do.
Okay fine, he’ll give fucking context.
Marinette, the amazing sweet French Angel that he met because of her classes’ field trip to Gotham, was left behind by her class again. Damian was kind of sick of it, sick of people forgetting how astonishing she was. Not that he let her know that when she asked if he would hang out with her. He toured through Gotham with her, pausing when she sketched. They went and bought some fabric at some point, dropping it off at her hotel.
Then the god damn Riddler showed up and fucking ruined it.
Sure, Damian could appreciate that it wasn’t someone as awful as Joker. Maybe. Not really, because it was still the fucking Riddler who was a fucking villain that attacked them while he was with hi- with Marinette.
Damian and Marinette were in line to get ice cream when the widows were suddenly blacked out. Damian reached for Marinette’s hand and grabbed it, tensing. He heard the doors lock, and the few people in the shop were trapped. Trapped with the fucking Riddler. He pointed a question mark shaped gun at them and demanded that they go to the back room.
Fucking fuck fuck.
Damian held Marinette’s hand. He couldn’t see her face, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. She had to be scared, knowing that damage done here couldn’t be reversed like in Paris.
“It’ll be alright,” he found himself mumbling while glaring daggers at Riddler. Marinette nodded.
Damian reached into his pocket with his other hand and pressed the extra button on his custom phone. The one that would send an alert to his nearest family member that something was wrong. He hoped they didn’t take for-fucking-ever.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Marinette looking around. She must be taking stock of her surroundings, looking for an escape. There were four people other than them and the villain and his henchman here.
His anger was simmering. He made sure to keep a tight lid on it though – he didn’t want to give The Riddler anything to work with.
“Now that I’ve got you all here,” the Riddler cackled, “I need two volunteers to do the puzzle I set up until Batman and his batbrats show up! The others will wait here locked in a room as bait.”
Damian tensed. He had to stall for time he had to-
“We’ll go,” Marinette sounded confident when she lifted her and Damian’s still conjoined hands.
Fucking fuck fuck.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Damian hissed. He was very rudely ignored.
The Riddler grinned. “Excellent! A Wayne and a foreigner! Follow me!”
He couldn’t help but tense when he was referred to as a Wayne. He could feel the stares of the others that were in the ice cream shop.
Damian hadn’t told Marinette who he was yet.
She glanced at him but he walked forward. She caught up soon enough, and soon they were locked in with The Goddamn Riddler.
The room was about the size of the kitchen at home, not very impressive if you asked him. It was also bright gaudy purple and neon green. Squares were on the ceiling and floor. The entire place was an eyesore, truly. Grayson’s awful Discowing suit would fit in here.
But that wasn’t what he was focusing on. He was focusing on the wonderful angel in front of him that willingly volunteered them to play a villain’s game. Not just any villain either – the fucking Riddler!
“What did you do?” Damian whispered, not wanting the jackass in green to hear.
“We were the best bet,” she whispers back.
Damian blinked, trying to remember the other people in that room. The cashier hadn’t looked too good, and two of them were children.
“Tch,” she was right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
He had to keep a lid on his anger. There likely wouldn’t be a chance to change into Robin while they were here, but he could still help. He still had the skill sets and the intelligence.
Well, presumably he would, but there was this stupid nagging thing in his head that kept telling him to look out for his An- Marinette. He didn’t like it. What was it called again?
Whatever it was, the feeling increased when The Riddler addressed them again.
“As you can see,” The Riddler gestured to the brightly colored room, “there’s a gameboard. And you two are game pieces. Make a wrong step and…”
He reached for his cane that was tied at his belt and pressed a button on it. The green square nearest to them made a beeping sound. The purple square above it opened up like a latch and bricks dropped from it.
The sound of the bricks hitting the ground was loud, Marinette and Damian both flinched. She gripped his hand tighter, and he returned the favor.
He glanced at the damage the bricks left. They went through the green square, opening up a dark hole below the floor. Damian couldn’t see how far down it was.
The awful and distracting feeling increased. What if that happened to Marinette?
The Riddler grinned, “as implied, if you make one wrong step then you die! Simple enough to understand?”
Ah. Worry. That’s what the feeling was.
It fucking sucked.
Damian shifted his feet, fighting to keep his expression neutral. The Riddler had a gun, and there wasn’t anything in this room for Marinette to hide behind. As enjoyable as it would be, Damian couldn’t attack him. Not without knowing for sure that Marinette would be safe.
He couldn’t tell what Marinette was thinking when she looked at him. Her brow twitched though – was she angry? Damian hoped not. Anger could lead to stupid mistakes and she very much could not afford to be stupid right now.
She turned back to The Riddler. “How do we know if any of the cubes are fake?” she asked. Her voice shook, and this time Damian had to fight back a smile.
He knew she was angry. She was making herself look scared.
Smart. Fucking genius. Of course she was intelligent he wouldn’t lo-
Like. He wouldn’t like her if she wasn’t.
Damian tightened his hand that held hers.
The Riddler smiled.
“I assure you there is a way to win,” he chuckled. “Now, who wants to go first?”
Damian was going to fucking skin The Riddler alive. Yeah, he’s used to Gotham villains at this point, but he hates being worried and he hates knowing Marinette is in danger.
He stepped forward, ready to offer to go first. If he distracted Riddler long enough, Marinette could maybe escape-
“I’ll go.”
Her voice was quiet but it still knocked the breath out of Damian’s lungs. What the hell? Why did she offer to go first, he was going to go first. She could have escaped!
“Angel,” Damian hissed, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“No takebacks!” the villain laughed. “Go ahead and choose, but make it snappy!”
Marinette squeezed Damian’s hand one more time before letting go.
Fucking fuck fuck.
Marinette paused, taking in her surroundings. She was deliberating for a long while. In the entire time, Damian fantasized about killing The Riddler in numerous ways. Sure, killing was against his father’s wishes, but if The Riddler was gone Damian wouldn’t have to worry anymore.
He was quickly discovering that he hated worrying.
“Go already,” The Riddler snarled. “Unless you want your friend to go-”
As much as he would much rather go in Marinette’s place, those words caused her to step on a purple square near her. Damian’s heart was in his throat and he felt that if he opened his mouth it would spill onto the ground.
Nobody told him that worrying made him scared! This is bullshit.
The Riddler chuckled, and fear began to drum through Damian’s senses. What if she was wrong? What if she was about to die? What if-
Green Asshole clicked the button.
The square under her feet beeped.
Damian inhaled.
The trapdoor opened.
Marinette stiffened.
Nothing came.
Nothing besides a small white feather. She looked up as it drifted down, and it landed on her nose.
“Lucky guess!” The Riddler cackled with glee. “Let’s hope you can keep it up! But for now, it’s your friend’s turn.”
Thank fuck! Damian was getting antsy.
“Why can’t I play alone?” Marinette asked. He couldn’t see her face but Damian could imagine from her tone.
She was worried too.
“What, think your friend isn’t as lucky as you?” he asked. “Tick, toc, Wayne. Don’t keep us waiting.”
Damian considered backhanding the villain before deciding to just take his turn.
The squares on the ground were all identical. A quick glance at the squares on the ceiling proved the same. The stupid drumming of worry and that god-awful fear was messing with his senses, and all he wanted to do was keep checking on Marinette to make sure she was alright.
Fucking fuck fuck.
He began to step on the nearest purple one. He could dodge a bunch of bricks falling, right? He should be able to if he was wrong.
He hoped he was able to.
Damian looked up at Marinette. She looked terrified, eyes wide.
He wasn’t sure why, but Damian had the feeling that she knew what squares were good and what squares were bad. If she was so scared…
Damian didn’t step on it.
Her shoulders seemed to relax, ever so slightly. He met her eyes, and she glanced elsewhere. He followed her eyes to the green square next to the purple one he almost stepped on.
He stepped on the green square next to her.
When The Riddler clicked his button, another feather dropped down on Damian.
“Seems the little foreigner is helping the competition!” The Riddler growled. “You think I wouldn’t see the silent communication there? Now you have to answer a riddle for every turn, girlie! Answer correctly and you’ll survive.”
A spark of panic lit up and Damian felt himself scowl. He quickly let his face become neutral again.
Could The Riddler just die? Please? It would be easier.
It would be easier than watching Marinette struggle with the riddles. And they were in English! Her second language! Damian bit his lip.
“Take your turn,” the villain growled.
Marinette did, stepping on another safe space. When the feather fell, The Riddler growled lowly.
“Now answer this,” his voice was low.
He heard Marinette’s breathing quicken.
Damian’s fist clenched.
“What is the beginning of eternity, the end of time and space, the beginning of every end and the end of every race?”
Damian tensed more. He knew the answer to that, but it was a riddle about the English language and he was worried, dammit, he was worried that Marinette wouldn’t get it and-
“The letter E,” she had the barest hint of a growl in her voice.
Damian wondered if she wanted to skin The Riddler too.
The Riddler frowned. “Take another turn.”
More fucking panic.
“But what about mine-”
“Shut it, Wayne,” The Riddler growled at him. “Take another turn, girlie. Your luck will run out eventually.”
Fucking fuck fuck.
Marinette glanced up. He noticed that whenever Marinette went to take a turn, she looked up. Was the answer in the ceiling? Damian looked, but he only got a quick glance in when he heard something move behind him.
He turned. Drake was there, in costume.
This was his chance. Damian could sneak out now and change into costume. Drake could defend his angel – wait no dammit – Marinette long enough that she would be okay.
“How can you tell?” the villain was snarling. “How do you know which ones you can use and which ones you can’t?”
“Just lucky I guess.”
He made his way quickly and silently to the door, already unbuttoning his shirt. Drake shrugged and made an “Okay?” sign. Damian responded with a, “wait,” sign while shoving on his mask.
He didn’t care right now if he looked messy or not right now.
“No, you figured something out,” The Riddler hissed. “How? How did you do it?”
He nearly fell trying to change his pants and made a sound when catching himself. Marinette scoffed around the same time, almost as if covering for him.
“As if I’d tell you,” she sounded haughty.
Oh no. His panic was back full force.
Stupid fucking feelings.
He finished dressing and looked over just in time to see The Riddler lunge at Marinette.
FUCKING FUCK FUCK.
Drake yelled something, but neither of the two on the puzzle board reacted to it.
She sidestepped to avoid The Riddler’s lunge. Swept under feet to make him lose his balance. Dug an elbow to the side to topple him over. Jumped to avoid his attempt to bring her down with him. Kicked his remote away from him.
Holy shit.
Damian was, as Robin, quickly making his way over, but he let himself be impressed for a moment.
In that moment, the villain didn’t stay down. Once she kicked his device away he was up again, this time fighting her with more intelligent movements.
Damian’s worry was draining away though. Because the longer they fought, the more trained Marinette looked. It was known that The Riddler was not very good at fighting hand to hand combat.
She punched him in the throat – the fucking throat – before running into Drake.
“Woah, calm down,” Drake sounded just as impressed as Damian was. And surprised.
Because Damian was definitely surprised, so Drake had to be too.
“Where’s my friend?” she asked. Shit. “Damian, he came here with me and-”
“It’s alright An- civilian,” he stepped forward while Drake walked to the villain. “I carried him out while The Riddler was focused on you.”
She relaxed. Good. He was worri-
God damn it, he needed to stop feeling that.
“You knocked him out,” Red Robin commented from behind her.
What? Robin looked at The Riddler and yep. Out cold.
“Punching faces is stupid, you’re more likely to hurt your hand if you don’t do it right. Going for the throat is a dirty move but more effective.”
Holy Fuck.
She was incredible.
“How’d you figure out his riddle board thing?” Drake asked.
“Anyone can figure it out if they look up! It’s obvious.”
“What?” he didn’t know what to look for.
“Oh!” Drake snapped his fingers. “The hinges?”
Marinette nodded. “He must have cut some corners because there’s no way the small hinges would hold a bunch of bricks.”
“Oh.” Damian felt stupid. Marinette had this. She had this in the bag. He was useless the entire time…
He slapped the feeling away. Get the fuck out.
Drake looked back at her. “You’re pretty smart.”
Damian fought back the urge to growl. Marinette wasn’t his Angel. She was an Angel, he didn’t have ownership.
“No, it’s something anyone would notice if they looked up! I just managed to use the knowledge.”
Damian raised a brow. So, self-confidence was something she needed help with, clearly.
He heard his father approach from behind. Drake nodded to him.
“Robin.”
Shit, what was wrong.
“Please allow the civilian to leave, we need to get The Riddler to Arkham.”
Oh, right. He sighed.
“I’ll guide her out,” Drake offered. He wanted to protest but father didn’t allow it.
Once she was out, he whirled on him. “I didn’t know Riddler was here or we wouldn’t have gone near the place, I apologize for putting a civilian in danger-”
“I just needed your help putting the cuffs on him,” his father sighed. “Then you can go to the police station and act as a victim.”
Damian nodded, heading over to The Riddler.
“Angel!” she was okay, thank god.
Without thinking, he grabbed her in a hug. He almost let go until she returned it, breathing in and out slowly. Marinette was really warm.
“I went back out to look for you, Robin told me you were here,” Damian mumbled. He stepped back, checking over her. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”
Marinette shook her head. “I’m perfectly fine, Damian. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
He sighed in relief. “Don’t scare me like that again, Angel, please.”
She seemed to cave in on herself, guiltily. “I’m sorry, I should have given you more warning, or only volunteered myself.”
“What?” Damian shook his head. “No, I’m glad it was us two. The Riddler would have killed anyone else. I was more worried when you fought him.”
“You fought The Riddler?” The cashier was staring at her with wide eyes. His voice was loud enough that the entire station went silent.
Marinette laughed. She seemed less guilty now, only awkward. “He was bad at hand to hand combat. And mad at me. That made him make some dumb moves, most people would have been able to beat him.”
“Still,” Commissioner Gordan chuckled. “Quite commendable for a young girl.”
“It’s really nothing,” Marinette tried to wave it off. “We have a lot of villains in Paris. I’d be stupid if I didn’t learn to fight them.”
“The akuma!” a young girl shouted. “I saw on the Lady’s blog about superheroes!”
“Don’t believe everything on that blog,” her the slightly older kid mumbled. “There is no way sausage hair is a superhero’s best friends. Superheroes don’t make friends with civilians.”
“I only watch the videos of fights,” the young girl pouted.
“Miss, if you’re ready,” Damian saw Commissioner Gordan gesture to the empty room they used for questioning witnesses. “We need you to retell everything that just happened for the record.”
Marinette nodded. Damian let go of her fully, hating how it suddenly got cold without her.
He should probably admit to himself he liked her.
Hell no.
She followed the greying man into his office, not noticing the awed looks of those around her as she passed by.
After she left, Damian Wayne pulled out his phone. Someone had to let her teacher know she was alright, if they noticed her missing at all.
They’re fools not to notice her, but Damian was glad he had no competition from those idiots.
Unnamed Teenager From France Holds off The Riddler Until Batman Arrives!
“I was just doing what anyone else would have done,” she says. “He was pretty annoying though. His riddles need work.”
The Riddler was wearing a neck brace. It was a precaution, the stupid French brat only bruised his throat. He still hated how sore his vocal cords were.
He was in fucking Arkham again too. Because a stupid French girl wasn’t so stupid.
“Hello there friend,” a familiar voice called from the cell next to him. “It seems you aren’t smiling.”
He glanced over, seeing The Joker in Penguin’s cell. He seemed to be in the process of breaking out.
“Why don’t you tell me why?” The Joker’s face broke out into a huge grin.