genevrier | 💀 pour oublier ma peine immense

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💀 pour oublier ma peine immense

It had been a long and hard three years.

Ladybug had run out of fingers with which to count the sticky situations she and Chat Noir had been in because of Hawkmoth. But finally, finally, she and her partner had him dead to rights. As time went on, they had grown desperate, and they'd made mistakes - but nothing they hadn't been able to fix. He'd made mistakes, too, and that was how the two of them had managed to track him down.

Heart pounding, she cast her gaze down at the man that had been their adversary for so long. Hawkmoth stared back at the both of them with a dark glare full of loathing. There were a lot of things she had wanted to ask him when she finally caught up to him, but there was only one question she was actually able to form.

"How could you?" She whispered, her voice ragged. She was breathing heavily - the fight had taken a lot out of her. Out of her partner, and out of their enemy, too; had it gone on much longer, they all might have dropped dead out of exhaustion. "You hurt so many people."

Hawkmoth's eyes glittered, and he pressed his lips together into a thin line. Ladybug felt something roll down her cheek - sweat, she hoped, and not blood or tears, but she'd taken a hit to the temple earlier and she couldn't be certain that it wasn't bleeding (and in fact it was). But she was in better shape than him, at least. He was beaten down, he had lost.

All that remained was to take his Miraculous and make sure that Nooroo's power never, ever fell int the hands of someone like him ever again.

His refusal to answer stirred anger in her where there had once been pity.

"Men. Women. Children. You used them all - and for what? What on earth could have been worth it? I don't understand. Explain yourself, Hawkmoth."

He didn't answer. He looked between the two of them, seething. Ladybug scowled and knelt down in front of him, curled her fingers around his brooch, and yanked it away from his suit.

The magic holding his transformation together fell apart, and Nooroo emerged from the butterfly Miraculous at long last. Ladybug cradled him in the crook of her arm and watched as the facial features of their nemesis became clear.

A well-dressed man, middle-aged. Nobody she recognized. Without his Miraculous, he should have been powerless. Defeated. Done for.

She didn't catch his smirk until it was too late.

His hand darted into the suit jacket that hadn't been there before, and his fingers closed around something she couldn't see. "I'll make you understand," He snarled, and the next thing she knew his hand emerged from the jacket and the crack of a gunshot split the air. "Perhaps now we'll share the same wish."

There was a gun in his hand, Ladybug realized, as a dull roar and the man's twisted, bitter laughter filled her ears. He hadn't aimed at her. She turned toward her partner with dread.

He had aimed at him, and his laughter was not the laughter of a man who had missed his mark.

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Failed step one, indeed.

Adrien's eyes widened, and he turned to look at her so fast he made himself dizzy.

A superhero.

Red. Red and black and blood and fire and pain and...

Adrien took a deep breath, and his head hurt. His head hurt so much he wanted to throw up. He had to. Oh shit, he had to throw up. He put his hand over his mouth, starting to dry heave, already dreading it. This was going to hurt, but thank goodness the bin was next to the bed-

Oh shit.

Marinette sucked in a breath, then twisted to grab the bin from the side of the bed, bringing it up quickly so that he wouldn't have to move too far to throw up. She'd rather he didn't have to at all, but -

"Sorry. I'm sorry-"

Why couldn't she have just kept her stupid mouth shut?

It wasn't her fault.

Throwing up hurt so much he wanted to pass out. He was sure it undid all the healing he'd managed with his ribs, and it left him shaking and dizzy, sick all over again from the smell- it was lucky there hadn't been much in his stomach, lucky he was still on a liquid diet.

It was mortifying, doing it in front of her, but she'd seen much worse by now.

He blinked back the tears in his eyes, tried to breathe, tried to clear his mind.

Super... hero.

A superhero.

"Ladybug," he whispered. His voice cracked with the pain of it. He breathed. Dry-heaved, but thankfully nothing more came up.

"Is-is she okay?"

She hadn't realized he would have such a violent reaction, just to the word superhero.

But he remembered Ladybug's name, without her having to tell it to him. That stung, just a little, but she suppose it was only to be expected - her alter-ego was much more memorable than her. Dazzling. Bright.

All the things she wanted to be, but wasn't, yet.

"She's okay," she said softly, rubbing circles into his back to try and soothe him as she wrestled with whether or not to pull the bin away. On the one hand, the smell probably wasn't helping. But on the other, if he did get sick again...

Finally, she just eased it a little further from his nose.

"She's fine," Marinette repeated. "Paris has been... quiet... for awhile now, but she's okay."

Ladybug had been the person he'd been in love with for years.

It was still fragmented. Bits and pieces. Everything jagged, sharp and painful. Adrien coughed, his mind spinning, and Marinette edged the bin away, which helped. His mouth still tasted foul, but it was better, not smelling it.

He shakily wiped sweat from his forehead, pressed his hand to his face.

... it was more than a crush.

He knew that now.

He'd been...

The pain came again, and he needed to slow down but he didn't know how.

"How do you know?" he said softly. He was terrified, and he had no idea why. It was like coming awake from a nightmare, still in a panic, heart racing, but details murky and rapidly slipping away. "How can you be sure?"

Because I'm her.

She couldn't tell him that now. Not now, when his mind was still fragmented, when he was struggling to put the pieces together. She had to let him draw his own conclusions, let him figure out how he felt without her influencing him.

Trying to nudge him her way would be unfair. Wrong.

"Someone spotted her," she said quietly. "People were talking about it online - they saw her scaling a building the same day you got hurt, or... maybe a day later? Alya thought for a minute that she actually lived in that building and she was all excited about figuring out who she was, but..."

It wasn't strictly untrue. She had transformed, to get back into her apartment to grab her things. She was sure at least one person had seen her after she'd emerged from the alley.

"My point is, she's been seen recently. So... she's okay."

And, now that Adrien knew about Ladybug again... she was going to have to make sure she was spotted one more time. Maybe pay him a sickbed visit from behind the mask, but if just hearing superhero and saying her name had made him so ill, what would showing up do...?

Adrien didn't yet remember everything. He didn't know what kind of danger they'd been in. What had happened to get him shot. Why Ladybug was involved, but he knew that she was. He knew that she was close, was special to him.

Knew that she'd been in danger. A lot of danger.

Still trembling, Adrien caught his breath, shut his eyes, and accepted her words. Marinette wouldn't lie to him about someone being okay or not. She wouldn't.

... but it made everything so confusing.

If Marinette wasn't the person he loved, then... why did he feel so comfortable with her? So safe? Why did he trust her so much?

He'd been going purely with his gut, but was it wrong? Was he somehow mixing things up? Was he more broken than he thought he was, overlaying his emotions and fragmented memories onto someone else?

Adrien felt ill all over again. Nothing made sense, and it was all jumbled together. His mind felt made of swiss cheese.

... cheese.

Something was... missing. Something else. Something important, but what?

"... water?" he forced out, softly.

She started to reach for him, to smooth down his hair, to soothe him - but before her fingers brushed against his skin, he forced out a request for water, and she drew her hand back.

Water. Right.

Of course, he wanted to get the taste of vomit out of his mouth.

Marinette nodded, eased herself up and over the side of the bed, and headed for the bathroom door. "I'll be right back. With water," she assured him, and she slipped through the door to grab the cup they'd kept there. The nurses had thought it better if they kept it on hand, and she had to admit, they were right.

Soon enough she was back with a cup of water and a straw, which she held out to him.

Adrien's head was pounding, his heart going a mile a minute, and he felt like he was going to pass out. He shakily settled back against his pillows, trying to think of nothing. It was so frustrating, so futile, so painful, he wanted to scream. If only it would actually release some of the pressure.

He felt trapped. He felt confused, and his body wouldn't obey him.

The water was just as much something to focus on as it was to get rid of the taste. He managed to take hold of the cup, and after a couple of tries, navigate the straw without dripping on himself.

It tasted like a godsend, cooled the fire in his throat, and even helped with the pain.

Slowly, his breathing evened out.

"... sorry."

Marinette watched him carefully, keeping an eye out for any further sign of distress, for any clue that he might need her to grab the bin for him.

When he spoke, her eyes widened, and she shook her head.

"You have nothing to apologize for," she said firmly.

It wasn't his fault he'd gotten sick. It wasn't.

No more sickness. Just waves of hurt, as things settled, as things made sense. As the guilt seeped in. He'd been so massively unfair to her.

... how could he still be craving her closeness when he knew it wasn't her he'd loved? Was he just so desperate for something to fit?

(But Marinette had stayed. She'd stayed with him all this time.)

He couldn't do this to her. He couldn't. She'd told him point-blank to his face that she had feelings for him, and he-

Adrien shook his head, without looking up, hating himself as he did it.

Her expression contorted with concern, but she didn't draw back. She didn't want to leave his side - and honestly, she desperately wished that she'd just kept her dumb, stupid mouth shut.

Things had been going so well until she'd word vomited enough to make him actually vomit.

"...Adrien..."

Hesitantly, she reached out for him. Her fingertips brushed against his shoulder.

How must his attitude right now be making her feel?

Adrien shut his eyes, breathed, and reached up to lay his hand atop hers. He left it there, realizing by the difference in their temperature that he was fever-warm. Probably from throwing up.

"I'm really confused right now," he confessed, softly.

"I just... need to sort this out. Everything is... it's all a blur. Some things I feel and don't know..." he trailed off. "Some things I know but don't know how to feel."

Finally, he looked up.

"I don't know what happened to us, or how I got shot," he said softly. "But I know you're here. You've been here this whole time..."

This whole time.

"I hope you'll stay."

He was warm. Too warm. She should probably have called for someone once he started throwing up, but she didn't want to leave him alone.

...and he didn't seem to want her to leave, either.

Marinette's expression softened a little, though it was still pained, and she met his eyes when he looked up.

"Take your time," she promised in a whisper. "...I'll be here. As long as you want me to be here, I'll stay."

She hadn't left him yet. She had no intention of leaving him now, not when he was vulnerable, when he needed someone to support him. She didn't know if she was the one best suited to help him, but...

There was nothing she wanted more than to at least try.

Adrien settled back on the pillows one more time, his head pounding, but he no longer felt like he was going to pass out. Instead, his eyelids were just... heavy.

He needed to rest. His mind needed to unpack and label all the boxes that had just spilled everywhere, and try to make sense of everything. He couldn't even properly deduce what the holes in his logic were at the moment.

He set the glass on the bedside table, mostly shutting his eyes, and weighed the guilt with the need for comfort. Weighed how much he risked hurting her now, with how much he risked hurting her long-term.

"Okay."

Running his thumb over the back of Marinette's hand, his breathing evened out. Slowly, his hand went slack, and sleep stole over him, leaving him looking much younger than eighteen.

She kept her hand in his as he drifted off, made no move to pull it away even after he fell asleep. After all, she'd promised that she wouldn't leave him.

...but in order for Ladybug to visit him, Marinette had to disappear.

She sat there with him in silence for a while longer, listening to the sounds of his breathing, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Finally, when it seemed as though he might be waking up soon, she eased her hand out of his, retreated back to the other side of the room, and whispered her transformation.

When Adrien next opened his eyes, it would be to see Ladybug at his bedside.

...

Which, uh.

Was a little creepy.

The rest was essential to his recovery. When he woke up, he still felt sore and awful, but at least it wasn't overwhelming.

He could see someone nearby, but even with the red color, it didn't hit him right away.

Adrien blinked blearily up at her, attempting to sort through things, and focused on the sight, on her face, not immediately placing her, mind not instantly catching up to the world.

Caught between that place of sleeping and waking, his mind overlaying what he knew, he saw more clearly than he otherwise might have.

"... Marinette?"

...urk.

Well, she supposed she couldn't blame him for assuming. She had promised that she wouldn't leave him as long as he still wanted her there, after all, but...

"Ladybug," she corrected, her voice soft. "I... came to see how you were doing."

Adrien's cheeks flushed, but he still felt confused. Marinette looked an awful lot like...

Ladybug.

This was Ladybug.

Suddenly, he felt short of breath. How had she known to come here? Especially now, when there had been radio silence from her until this moment? He had a million questions, so many fighting for the forefront of his mind, but they all melted away when he saw the look in her eyes.

"Purrfect," he answered, very quietly.

It didn't have quite the same warmth or attitude that Chat Noir usually did, but it wasn't Adrien either.

"Now that you're here."

He didn't remember her, not fully, but bits and pieces of Chat Noir peeked through anyway, and Marinette's heart fluttered underneath Ladybug's suit.

Adrien didn't look sick. He didn't seem ill, although he did seem confused, but that was a marked improvement from earlier, when she was upsetting him.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," she said softly. Ladybug had no idea what else she ought to say to him, but that was at the forefront of her mind. If she had, then maybe it wouldn't have hurt him when she'd blurted out the bit about his liking somebody else.

Maybe he wouldn't have thought that she, Ladybug, didn't feel so strongly for him.

"Can I get you anything?"

Shaking his head still hurt, but he did it anyway, feeling stupid.

Where words had come easily with Marinette, knowing what he knew about her -- which was next to nothing, other than that he loved her -- he couldn't help but feel tongue-tied.

He didn't feel like himself, and he wasn't sure how that was possible. He chalked it up to his injuries.

Adrien could understand why she didn't come. Marinette had said it herself- she didn't want to put him in danger. So why come now?

"... how much do you know?"

"I know the reporters... haven't exactly gotten the most accurate story out there," she admitted, because it was true. The press was acting on flimsy amounts of information and a lot of misdirection from Gabriel. "...and I know it's probably safest if most people continue to believe that."

Her eyes were gentle as she looked him over, and she started to reach for his hair to push it back from his face, but redirected to brush her fingertips over his cheek instead when she realized that she'd done exactly that as Marinette often enough that it might trip something.

"And... I know you're having some memory problems."

She bit her lip.

"That was part of why I stayed away... I didn't want to confuse you."

Adrien's eyes widened slightly as she reached for him, as he watched her pull herself back.

If she'd touched him, it might not have seemed so familiar. But it was. So was the way she bit her lip.

Hesitantly, he reached up, touched his fingers to hers.

"I remember you," he whispered, in the tones of a confession. He didn't remember everything, not by far, but he knew how he felt about her.

It shouldn't have hurt as much as it did to hear that.

She knew part of the reason he remembered Ladybug was that she'd reminded him. He'd remembered bits and pieces of the time he spent with Marinette, too, but to hear I remember you when he hadn't even remembered her real name stung more than she could easily express.

The worst part, though, was that even through the pain, it still made her happy to know that he'd remembered part of her, even if it was the part she didn't truly think of as herself.

"You do?" she whispered, and it was very clear from the look on her face and the sound of her voice that she didn't know exactly how she ought to feel about that.

Before he touched her fingers, she spoke, and he pulled back, hesitating, looking up at her.

It made sense for that to be her attitude, if he'd known everything about her. If he knew that she was disappointed because she was also Marinette, if he'd known that she didn't view Ladybug to be her true self.

But Ladybug was a constant in Adrien's life, and had been for years. He risked his life alongside her, trusted her implicitly, and that made an impression it was impossible to shake, even if he didn't have specific memories to back up his feelings.

It made sense that he remembered her.

But from his end, it looked less than promising.

It looked like Ladybug wasn't happy to hear that he remembered. That she was uncomfortable with it.

His heart sank, and it showed in his eyes.

"Yes."

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