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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Adrien found her by her touch, her voice, and drew several breaths without coughing, curled his fingers more gently around hers as he looked into her eyes, managed to focus.

"Princess," he whispered, his face a picture of panic and relief.

He shut his eyes, concentrating on her touch.

She was here. She was alive. He hadn't turned everything to ash.

He seemed to be getting some kind of comfort from her closeness, from her touch, so she stayed right where she was and didn't even consider pulling her hand away.

"I'm here," she repeated, giving his fingers another light squeeze.

It had all been a dream. A terrible dream, but just a dream nonetheless. Reality wasn't that great, but whatever his nightmare had been - whatever he'd seen - it wasn't real.

He was going to be just fine.

The dream was rapidly slipping away, but the impression it left shook him. Adrien's breathing evened out slowly, and he leaned into her hands, her touch, grounding himself.

He squeezed her hand, and when he finally opened his eyes, he noticed the red marks where he'd broken the skin.

He dropped her hand as if burned.

"I'm- I'm sorry."

"Huh?"

She blinked rapidly, startled, when he dropped her hand, then looked down at her palm. What...? Oh.

Marinette shook her head. "It's okay," she said quietly. "I've done worse to myself by accident." She reached for his hand with her other hand, her touch gentle. "...are you okay, Adrien?"

It made him feel a touch better, but not much. He accepted her touch despite feeling like he shouldn't, squeezing her hand. He needed the comfort.

"Just a little shaken up," he whispered, flashed her a smile that didn't stick. "Bad dream."

The details were rapidly slipping away into nothing, and what he did remember made no sense.

"Do you want to talk about it...?"

Were the things he couldn't remember making their way into his dreams? Was it something else entirely? ...if it was something having to do with the Miraculous, did he feel like he could talk to anyone about it?

He had his suspicions about her, but... it must be lonely, to feel like it was something he couldn't talk about.

"Because if you do, I'll listen, but if you don't, I won't force you to..."

It was tempting to just brush it off, but it was so weird, he didn't know how to make any sort of sense of it. Adrien frowned to himself, thinking, but ultimately he did trust Marinette.

"I'm... flying. Over the city. But not really flying. Think, like Superman? Leaping tall buildings in a single bound?" he chuckled slightly, knowing it sounded a little ridiculous.

"But then I was falling. Common dream, but... everything was turning to rust and ash, and rotting away, the closer I got to it."

Adrien looked down at his hand, pressed his thumb against something that wasn't there. It was a hitch in the edge of his memories, quickly glossed over as part of a dream.

"Like I was the one doing it."

Cataclysm.

Of course. It made sense. He didn't even have to be remembering Hawkmoth for it to be a nightmare - without the context, his own powers were terrifying enough. If anyone other than Adrien had been Chat Noir, that Miraculous could have been seriously misused.

So to remember the destruction of it, without remembering being on the right side, even subconsciously...

She squeezed his hand again, and her expression and her voice were both gentle when she spoke.

"That sounds frightening," she said softly. "But, believe me... if that was something a person could do - destroy things with just a touch - all of Paris would be a lot safer if it was you. You wouldn't misuse it." The fact that the city was still standing after that power had been in his hands for three years as proof of that. Her gaze dropped briefly to his hands - to the finger that no longer bore a ring - before she looked up at him. "...but you're okay, you know? None of that is happening."

Adrien was quiet, an uneasy feeling deep in his chest. It sounded so specific, so close and real. They had just been talking about superheroes. He'd just met one, if Ladybug hadn't been a dream, too.

Or had she?

Could he trust his own mind right now?

Was he just making things up to feel better?

None of that is happening.

"I hope not," he said softly, meaning himself, and the misuse of the power... or all of it. Did he mean all of it?

"You're safe."

The words were somehow both gentle and firm at the same time, and she lightly brushed a few strands of his hair away from his face.

"You're safe, and... all of Paris is safe. You don't have to worry about anything other than getting better."

The worst of it was over.

...well, as long as some other threat didn't rear its ugly head, but Hawkmoth was over and done with. What was the worst that could happen?

Despite her words, it still troubled him, thinking about it. It seemed so wild and far-fetched, but at the same time it had still been so real.

Adrien concentrated on the feel of Marinette's fingers on his skin instead of what was going on in his mind, felt the headache recede.

"Were you here the whole time?" he asked softly, confused. Things were beginning to blend again.

"...when you didn't have someone else here, yes," she answered softly.

Marinette was, after all, still unable to tell him that she was Ladybug. But she also wouldn't deny that Ladybug was there, if he asked.

"You weren't alone, I promise."

... someone else.

Did that mean Ladybug was someone else-? Or was she talking about the aides? His father?

Adrien's mind swam, and he wanted to ask, but was afraid of the answer.

What if Marinette wasn't Ladybug? What if Ladybug didn't actually exist?

Adrien felt ill again, and shut his eyes, trying to drown out the throbbing that was soon to become a fullblown migraine. He felt helpless again, even more frustrated. Was everything broken?

"Thanks for staying with me."

"Of course."

There was something on his mind. She could tell that much, from the way his expression changed, from the way he shut his eyes - but they were slightly out of sync, and she couldn't guess what it was.

"I wouldn't leave you alone."

Adrien scraped up a smile for her, leaned back into his pillows with a sigh, and knew he was too stressed to sleep. Wasn't sure if talking would help, or make things worse. Even in his dreams, talking made things worse.

"What do you usually do," he asked with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. "When you're not doing bedside vigils?"

"...um."

That was more of a loaded question than it seemed, because, well...

The answer was that ever since he'd gotten hurt, she hadn't really been doing much aside from bedside vigils and sleeping. And she didn't want to bring up the sign work his father was having her work on to distract herself; it would only remind him of ESMOD, and her skipping classes...

"I..."

God damn it.

She had no answer for him. She really had put her life on hold ever since he got hurt, hadn't he?

For the first time, she was really realizing that. Slowly, she looked down at her hands.

"Hobbies?" he asked gently, if a little awkwardly. He knew she liked designing, and video games, but that was about it...

He wanted to try to find something they could do together that wasn't too demanding. Hopefully that wouldn't be out of the question.

It had be agonizing, sitting at his bedside day after day, with nothing to do but worry over him.

She didn't have many hobbies that he could take part in while he was still laid up. Not really.

"I like video games," she answered quietly. "But you knew that already. I've... sort of been learning to cook, a little, from my parents."

Designing was the elephant in her room. It was her passion, but it was also the last thing she wanted to bring up. "...I like listening to music, too. Rock music, mostly."

But Jagged Stone probably wouldn't be good for his headache...

Anything loud would probably make his head hurt, and video games would need to be put off until his hands were a little better, but... cooking?

Cooking sounded promising.

"What do you like to cook most?" he asked, curious. Maybe he couldn't help yet, but... it would be nice to get out of this room. If he could wrangle it, then maybe-

"Sweets," she admitted.

Which was understandable, given the sort of environment she'd grown up in. Having moved out with Alya, she spent a lot more time baking - because it wasn't like she could just walk downstairs and have them already made for her anymore.

"...I've gotten really good at making chocolate chip cookies."

Because of Tikki, honestly.

"Mmmh..." Adrien gave a dreamy sigh, shutting his eyes. Those were probably out of the question right now, because he was still recovering, but hopefully soon...

"That sounds wonderful."

Adrien leaned forward unconsciously, closer to her.

"Maybe when I can walk a little farther, we could try it?"

"Really?"

She'd known, of course, that he liked sweets, but... she hadn't had many opportunities to make them for him, especially since they'd both finished school. The prospect of cooking for him - and of cooking with him - brightened her up considerably, and she nodded eagerly.

"I'd love that!"

It was good to see her smile. It was something he recognized right away, and it warmed him up inside, completely made him forget that fear and worry.

"I might even be able to help," he said hopefully- at the very least, he wanted to be able to walk to the kitchen, sit down in a chair, maybe... it would be fine if he rested, so long as he was out of this room.

Or just... doing something.

Adrien was already smiling to himself, determined. He had a goal.

"Well, you know..."

This might not be the best idea Marinette had ever had, but... She was going for it anyway. Adrien looked so excited by the prospect - he was smiling - and she didn't want him to ha e to wait.

"You really only need to be in the kitchen to put the dough in the oven. I could bring the ingredients up here..."

Immediately, Adrien's smile turned to a huge grin. Sure, he'd likely be subject to some minor scolding, but he was an invalid, what could it hurt to make a mess or two?

He'd probably be happy to have him occupied.

"Tell me more," he said eagerly, brightly, the most interested he'd been in anything since the injury.

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