Daminette Oneshots

Life and Death

-They are in their seventies now.

Marinette's POV

I'm sitting on the couch next to Damian's hospital bed. I gently poke his side. "Hey, are you okay?" He opens his eyes to look at me, giving me a small smile and a tired sigh. "Yes. Just remembering how we met."

Sixty Years Ago...

Damian's POV

Damnit. I told Bustier that I didn't want a partner, but she assigned me one anyway. I have hated all sixteen of her imbecilic, childish predecessors, and I am sure she will not be different.

The new student approaches my desk and sits down silently, opening her backpack and taking out a pen. I glare at her, and she turns to me.

"Keep glaring, Al Ghul, and you'll end up in a graveyard. Being buried." Her voice is hard and threatening, but I am not scared. I scoff instead. "Like you could do anything to me." She smirks. "Is that a challenge?"

Marinette's POV

"I suggest we combine potassium chlorate, sugar, and sulfuric acid. Maybe put it in front of your house." He stares at me like I'm crazy. "Yes, I know. I'm mental, you can say it."

He smirks. "You are mental, Ms. Dupain-Cheng." I glare at him angrily, snarking under my breath, "Estúpido." He turns back to me slowly. "What. Did. You. Say?" I innocently smile at him. "Nothing that concerns you, Wayne."

Three Years Later...

It's time for prom! A couple people asked me out, but I turned them down in favor of being alone.

The petty rivalry with Damian Wayne is resolved. We both signed a contract after my car was glitter-bombed and he was covered in a bucket of slime in retaliation.

I just hope that this dance won't make me remember my class.

I get in my car and drive to Gotham Academy, seeing all of the other kids arrive in limos. I have a lot of money from being MDC, but I only use enough for a quality car, my tuition, and any other basic living expenses.

I walk in the gym. The lights are down low, there are streamers and balloons everywhere, and a live band plays. Overall, perfect for a rich kid.

Suddenly, I catch glimpses of a boy with blonde hair and green eyes. All of my classmates begin to appear in my peripheral vision. I run to the corner, placing my hands over my ears. The hallucinations yell insults at me until their voices blur together.

So not cool why couldn't you be nicer be more like Lila we're not friends anymore I'm sorry I don't like you that way

Suddenly, I feel hands placed on my shoulders and a different voice sounds above me.

Breathe.
Open your eyes, I'm right here.
You will be okay, Marinette.

I open my eyes to see jade green staring back at me. I recognize him as Damian Wayne, my old enemy. He's kneeling in front of me, trying to ground me from my panic attack. I give him a small smile as he looks at me with concern.

"Hey, Wayne. You can go see your rich friends now." My voice sounds weak even to my own ears. He shakes his head. "No, Marinette. Not until I definitely know you are alright."

Now...

Dick, Tim, and Duke all passed years ago. Somehow, Jason-the stubborn old man- is still hanging on, but not by much. Malik and Zara, our son and daughter, are already here with their wives.

Shaytan's shoulders shake as he coughs, taking in rasping breaths. His heart monitor starts to slow down.

I let out a sob when the steady beeping fades to a long, shrill noise.

I want more walks in the park. I want more date nights without the kids. I want more patrols together, sneaking kisses while catching thugs.

I want more time with Damian, the love of my life.

I get up and gently place one last kiss on his forehead, a farewell.

For now.