Chapter Text
They huddled together wearily. They really should have been watching every direction, waiting for someone to come out of nowhere and attack them. But the streets were cold, dreadfully so and it was such a huge change from Nanda Parbat that it hit them much harder than the rest of the street kids. All the other kids out on the street had been raised in this stuffy, gloomy environment and had been given the chance to get used to it, but they hadn’t.
Although they’d been raised in a keep in the middle of a desert area, they’d actually lived at the top of a mountain so they’d grown used to minus temperatures. Sure, for their training they had been sent to different environments and had learnt how to ‘rough it’ like they were now, but that certainly didn’t mean that they had to like it, or that they weren’t acclimated to the cold they had previously trained in.
Of course, the threat of attacks at any time might have been another reason why they weren’t adjusting to the warmer temperature as quickly as they should have been. The idea of deadly assassins that could attack randomly would be enough to stop anyone from relaxing and getting used to their surroundings. But for the two kids that had escaped from them?
They were moving around multiple times a day. They couldn’t take the risk that someone could see them and report their location back to the League. It meant that they didn’t have anyone other than themselves to lean on, unlike other street kids who formed gangs for protection.
Marinette held on Damian and all their belongings (just the single bag they had been able to take with them from home before) tightly. They couldn’t afford to lose any of their supplies, and they always slept better with each other. Except now they had to take shifts to sleep.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered gently, stroking his hair as he slept. “You’re safe, we’re safe.”
They’d been like that for months, caring for each other on the streets. Their only thoughts at this point were keeping safe and getting food. The harshness of Gotham’s alleys to their living conditions before. But even as they starved, lacking the basic necessities a human should have, they couldn’t find it within themselves to regret their decision. Leaving the League was the right call. They just had to wait and hope that something would turn their life around.
That hope paid off and arrived in the form of Tim Drake. The boy was just two years older than them and even more lonely. While they were isolated in the streets, he was isolated in his own home.
To start off with the older boy and had seen them shivering and bought them a cup of coffee and a cookie each. “Here,” he’d said with a generous smile, handing them the hot liquid and the snack.
Both kids looked at the offerings with great suspicion, not positive they could trust him. He was different from the rest of the kids, nicer clothes, kind smile, actually trying to offer them something rather than steal, put together. From the looks of it, he was not a street kid whatsoever. Which means this gift was out of pity or poison.
Damian sneered at him as he stepped slightly in front of Marinette, shielding her away from the stranger slightly as if she couldn’t protect herself just as well as he could. They were both trained killers from birth, if he was trying to kill them he’d be the one to suffer. The only reason the other kids stayed away from them and stole less was because Damian broke one of the older kids - a teenage gang leader wannabe around 17 years - arm and fractured his kneecaps before Marinette pulled him off of the other boy after he tried to not only steal their only blanket, but also spoke down to Marinette as if she was a piece of meat, his eyes speaking of danger and it disgusted Damian. Marinette could have easily handled it, but his instinct was to protect her so he did. Obviously this kid wasn’t from around these parts of the street and didn’t know what they could do and that he was supposed to stay away.
“We don’t want anything from you.” Damian's tone was clipped and firm, his eyes of fire never backing down from staring right into the other kid's soul.
Tim flinched slightly but didn’t budge. “You guys clearly need it, it’s frigid out here.”
“We don’t need your pity .” Damian was very against the idea of being seen as weak. He would never accept a gift given out of pity and hated that people saw him as a helpless child just because he was on the streets. If anything though, they had made these kids stronger, more dangerous.
“Maybe I’m not doing it out of pity…” Tim attempted, his feet shuffling nervously suddenly. “Maybe I’m doing it out of kindness because I always see you two pass by and she looks at the treats.”
Marinette stepped a bit closer to Damian in slight shame at being caught. It wasn’t her fault though! The shop they passed by daily on the way to the market that was decently easy to take a few pieces of food just had the absolute best smells that wafted through the air. She had no idea what anything inside there was, but if the smell was anything to go by, it was absolutely delectable. Damian glanced over his shoulder at her before his eyes flickered back to the stranger.
“We don’t accept gifts.” Damian stood strong, even as Marinette’s resolve was breaking.
“Dami … we do need food though,” Marinette spoke quietly to him. Damian looked at her in slight betrayal. “Don’t look at me like that, you know the market won’t be open for two days at the very least due to the cold, more if it gets any colder.”
“It’s going to snow tonight and I doubt it will get much warmer tomorrow, there’s a good chance it will snow more,” Tim offered helpfully.
Damian rolled his eyes, “We do not accept anything from strangers.”
“But he bought us those treats,” Marinette looked at him in a slight plea. Damian too had noticed how she always paused in front of the window to take in the sights and smells. Saw the longing looks everytime they passed it. He felt his resolve begin to crumble. She was his only friend and he wanted her happy.
“Tt, fine.” Damian gritted out annoyed, but secretly pleased with how the small girl beside him eyes lit up like the fires they would set just for the fun of it on the rare occasions they had free time from training.
Tim grinned and held out the treats. Marinette excitedly took it out of his hand while Damian was more hesitant. But even Marinette’s exuberance wouldn’t blind her need for caution as she inspected the beverage through the gap meant to drink from. Damian observed the circular treat in his hand as well. He had no clue what it was. Marinette took a sip from the hot substance and Damian inspected her carefully, hence why he noticed as her eyes shone brighter than the stars in the darkness of night in Nanda Parbat that you couldn’t quite see her due to the thick smog and clouds that littered the sky.
“What is this?”
Tim tilted his head in confusion as if the concept of someone not knowing what it was was a foreign concept to him. “It’s coffee.”
Marinette looked at it in wonder as she once again raised the scalding liquid to her lips, “I love it.”
Damian couldn’t help the upwards quirk of his lips as she enjoyed the gift from the stranger. He glanced at his own and drank a careful sip. The second the flavor touched his tongue he brought it away from his mouth as if it was made of lava and burnt him and grimaced in disgust.
“What the hell is this?” Damian demanded as he looked at the drink in horror.
Tim’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, Marinette sporting the same expression.
“It’s a white chocolate mocha.”
Marinette peaked over his shoulder before looking at him in silent question. He easily handed it to her with no words spoken between them. She took a sip of it without question and scrunched her eyebrows together.
“Same as mine.”
Damian raised an eyebrow and silently took hers, taking a sip, and cringing in disgust. He did not like coffee. Marinette took both and held one to her chest protectively as the other was raised to her lips to drink the sweet caffeinated goodness. Tim chuckled quietly.
“Well, everyone’s taste is different. Not everyone likes coffee as crazy as that is.” Marinette nodded along with Tims words enthusiastically. “Would you like me to get something else for you?”
Damian scoffed in response, “I don’t need anything.”
Marinette gave him an unimpressed look as she tried to maneuver the other treat he had given them around the two coffee cups she was holding so she could try that as well. Damian rolled his eyes and took the packet from her, ignoring her gasp of protest, pulled out the round object and presented it to her so she could just take a bite out of it instead of trying to hold it in her already full hands. Marinette gave him a grateful smile as she took a bite, immediately making a happy squeak at the taste. Damian pushed his own one out slightly with his other hands and took his own bite. He recognized the taste of chocolate - Marinette and him had tried some once after getting it from a kind old woman on a mission not too long before they had run away. He savored the flavor, while a touch too sweet for his tastes, it was delectable. Marinette looked towards the boy standing watching them in question.
“That’s a cookie. Chocolate chip to be exact.”
Marinette nodded happily at that, taking another drink of her coffee.
Damian eyed him suspiciously, “Why are you offering these?”
Tim shrugged, giving a nervous smile.”I don’t know … I just noticed you guys only hang out together and care for each other more than a gang would or even a partnership between kids. I wish I had something like that … but you two don’t have much supplies so I thought I’d help out a bit I guess…”
Marinette sat down on the snow covered ground in their makeshift bed that was just a cloth they used as a blanket really. Damian moved next to her, offering the cookie now that she could put down the drinks. She easily accepted as Damian watched Tim, refusing to let down his guard.
“I’m Tim by the way…”
“Marinette! And this is Damian.” Damian scowled at his partner in crime for so easily giving that information out which she easily ignored.
Tim nodded, “Nice to meet you.”
Marinette snorted, “That’s something we don’t hear often.”
“Because you're street kids?”
Marinette’s grin took a deadly turn, now as sharp as the blade of his favorite katana. “No. Because we could kill them in a heartbeat.”
Damian expected a greater reaction from the boy, but to his great surprise he just laughed, “That’s so cool! No wonder the others avoid you like a plague.”
Marinette nodded enthusiastically, glad that her new friend wasn’t taken aback and disgusted. She paused at the thought, “Can we be friends?”
Tim broke out in a bright smile, “I would love that.”
Damian rolled his eyes at this. They weren’t supposed to get attached to anyone, they had to constantly move around. Making attachments would do them absolutely no good. But when he saw the pure joy in Marinette’s eyes..he decided to keep silent on that for once. Her happiness was important to him.
“So … how many ways are there to kill someone?”
Marinette giggled as she quickly listed off a handful of them. Clearly she had chosen the very easiest ways like suffocation and shooting them, not going overly in detail but excitedly chattering them off. Tim listened with rapt interest.
“So, you’re saying that you know ten ways to kill someone?” Tim asked incredulously.
Marinette nodded. “Well, those ten are the easiest ways. We know more.” She mentally cursed herself for telling him all of this, now he probably hates her and wants to go away from her. Her first and only friend in Gotham.
“That’s so cool.” Of course he thinks that. Tim was different from everyone. Marinette was so glad that she had met Tim. And not only for the warm treats, but also for his warm smile and friendship.
“What made you run away?” Tim asked but quickly backtracked. “Wait, sorry. That was too personal of a question. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to or if it brings up bad memories for you.”
Marinette smiled at him and his understanding nature. Tim was better than anyone back in the league, he was different. He was … nice. He felt like home.
“Well, to begin with they forcefully made me and my parents join their cult. I was a baby so I don’t know much about how it happened, but my parents always despised them. They also forced us to kill people and treated us like garbage,” Marinette paused, unsure what to say next. “We were always meant to obey their orders and they never listened to what we had to say. And if we said something wrong, they’d punish us.”
Tim cringed at that. That was truly a terrible way to treat anyone, especially kids Damian and Marinette’s age.
“Are you two done yet?” Damian spoke from his place on the ground. “As you have so helpfully pointed out earlier, there shall be a storm tonight. We must go and look for shelter for the night.”
Tim hesitated for a second. “Ah well, you don’t have to say yes. But the manor is empty and I’m alone there. You can stay there if you want... You obviously don’t have to! I get it that you can’t trust me that easily, but if you’d want to, my house is open to you guys.”
Marinette looked at Tim with stars in her eyes, “Ooh can we, Dami? Please?”
Damian snarled at Tim, “That’s not a wise choice.”
Marinette turned towards him, giving him her very best puppy eyes that both of them knew he’d yield to. Damian sighed, relenting. “Fine, but if Drake causes any harm or makes any unwanted advances, I would not hesitate to add another person to my assassination list.”
Tim nodded seriously, “Of course. I'll be good.”
Marinette whooped and grabbed Tim and Damian’s hands, “Lead the way Timmy!”