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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"That's right."

Marinette rubbed at the back of her head, smiling a little sheepishly.

"...he's a lot nicer than a lot of people give him credit for. That's one thing I've learned about him, at least."

"He's been nice to you?"

Adrien's mouth dropped open. Of course, he knew his father, he knew that he had a kinder, softer side, but it hadn't come out that much lately. It had certainly never come out to anyone outside the family, that he knew of.

"He must really like you."

"Well, he hasn't kicked me out yet or anything..."

All things considered, he was being nicer to her than he could have been. Plenty of people wouldn't have blamed him at all if he'd told her to get lost, especially since Adrien's injuries were her fault in the first place.

"And he's... tried to help me keep busy. He's kind of gruff, but he... means well."

Gabriel must know about her schooling... no wonder. But the real mystery was why Gabriel was letting this girl, who he supposedly didn't really know, have this much access to him. She was staying in the house, staying alone with him.

While he didn't have any objection towards it, he couldn't help but be confused.

He had to see some advantage in keeping her here. Right?

... maybe it was just because Adrien needed a distraction. That could well be it. He tended to get into trouble if he wasn't kept busy.

"He's good at giving people things to do," Adrien said awkwardly. His bedroom and his packed schedule were a testament to that.

"You can say that again," she mumbled.

Marinette could still very distinctly remember when he'd first brought her a pattern to color in - and she was sure he's done it because he was worried about Adrien waking up and seeing her as despondent as she had been, but it was still kind of him.

He was trying really hard for his son's sake.

"It's a good opportunity, anyway. A lot of other people who want to get into designing would be thrilled if there was even a slight chance he might see something they worked on out of the corner of his eye."

A smile spread across Adrien's face, and he leaned forward.

"... you're a fan of his," he said quietly, on the edge of laughing, just because of the novelty of it. Most girls their age were into him, not his father.

"You know, if he's having you fill in his patterns, he already thinks a lot of your talent. He'd never let even his interns touch his things."

"Oh, geeze, is it that obvious?"

About as obvious as her crush on Adrien, so... yeah. She rubbed at the back of her head, a little embarrassed, but... it was the truth, so what was the harm in saying it? It wasn't like Gabriel was on the other side of the door or anything, able to hear what she was about to say.

"He's been my favorite fashion designer since... well, since forever. His designs are seriously amazing."

Had Marinette's caring for him not been so transparent, Adrien might have done the disservice of wondering if that was why she was here.

Instead, his heart warmed as he watched her face, the way she seemed flustered.

"He's an artist," Adrien said softly, happily. He was proud of his father's talent, though he rarely had the chance to hear someone praise him so genuinely. He was the subject of awe and envy and often, anger, but this was harder to come by.

"He works too much, though," he added. "Sometimes it wears him thin."

"He is," she agreed.

When they were in school together, she'd been... a little disillusioned, seeing how unhappy Adrien could be sometimes. But Gabriel had really stepped up and shown that even though the things he'd done had been pretty awful, they'd come from a place of caring.

She was a little more inclined to think well of him again.

"...I can see how that might happen," she said after a moment. "Well - with any luck... he'll be able to take a little more time off soon."

Like, uh, when Adrien recovered enough to travel. Maybe father and son could take a well-deserved vacation together.

Adrien looked puzzled, as if he wasn't quite following what Marinette had in mind. Then again, Gabriel didn't really take vacations. Not the way normal people did.

Even when his son had been nearly shot to death, he had gone back to work the next day.

"... do you know something I don't?" he asked, and tried not to wince.

She still knew a lot of things he didn't.

"I just think..."

Marinette hesitated. She wasn't a member of this family, not really - maybe she shouldn't say anything about Gabriel or what he could or should do, but...

"I just think if there was ever a time for him to take some time off, it'd be after you got better... so you two could spend some time together."

Adrien looked all the more puzzled, then bit his lip, thinking it through.

He could trust Marinette. She wouldn't go spreading this around, or think less of them for it. Adrien lifted a hand, brushed his hair back from his face, and sighed.

"I'd like to see more of him, but honestly... I have no idea what we'd do. I haven't spent time with him in years."

Each family was different. She knew from firsthand experience, now, that Gabriel wasn't the best at showing how he cared - so what Adrien said really didn't come as a surprise at all.

"It'd probably be awkward at first," she conceded. "But... you have to start somewhere, right? And I bet you guys would be able to figure it out, a little bit at a time."

You know, if they could drag Gabriel away from his work.

"Maybe."

It sounded attractive, but at the same time, Adrien didn't really want to get his hopes up. He was used to broken promises, used to his father never showing up, used to his birthday presents being foisted onto Nathalie -- or so he'd found out, in later years -- because his father had no idea how to shop for something he'd genuinely enjoy.

Adrien toyed with the edge of his sheets, and tried not to think too hard about the fact that Marinette had probably had more meaningful conversations with his father in the past couple of weeks than he'd had in years.

"...he comes to visit you every night, you know?"

Marinette couldn't quite look at him directly, but... she was trying. There were years of hurt feelings between Adrien and Gabriel - but all she could really speak about was what she'd seen.

"You're usually asleep when it happens. I'm sure he wouldn't know what to do or say if you woke up when he was visiting. ...but he keeps coming anyway."

She bit her lip.

"...he's trying, in his own way. So I think it's more than a maybe. At least, that's the feeling I get..."

Adrien's hands stilled on the sheets, and though he didn't look at her, his eyes widened a little.

Other than that hug when he'd first woken up, he hadn't seen that much of his father... but finding out he still came, when he was asleep, and not just to hand work to Marinette...

Adrien's throat felt a little tight, and he thought back to his dream, to what Ladybug had told him.

"I'm not sure I'd know what to say, either."

Marinette scooted closer to his bedside, and she reached out with her hand to brush her fingers against his cheek.

"One day at a time," she said quietly. "...right?"

Adrien’s eyes widened as she scooted closer, and he visibly relaxed as she touched him, sighing softly. The tension left his shoulders as he met her eyes, smiled back at her. It wasn’t much, just a quirk of his lips, tired but hopeful. It was real.

Marinette had a way of making him believe he could do anything, if he put his mind to it. They wouldn’t fix everything right away, but maybe little by little, day by day, it could get better than it was.

“If you say so,” he answered, “I can believe in it.”

"That makes two of us."

She smiled at him, encouraging. She knew that Adrien wanted to bridge the gap between himself and his father - and she knew now that Gabriel wanted the same thing. It might take awhile, and there were sure to be some hiccups along the way, but...

"You and your dad both want the same thing, you just have different ideas of how to get there." Marinette paused, thought it over, and then nodded. "So I really believe you to will figure it out."

Adrien settled, his eyes half closed, blinking back the threat of sleep again.

"You're close with your family?" he asked, curious, wondering if it was something he should already know. As he asked, he remembered the scent of cookies. The impression of warmth. It was a brush of something like an old dream, and he didn't push it.

"I am," Marinette answered. "My parents and I have always been pretty close."

It wasn't like they'd ever been apart for long periods of time. Even when her parents were up to their ears in work, they were still in the same house together - and it wasn't like their house was very big. They'd never had the chance to grow apart, and both Tom and Sabine were naturally warm and caring people.

"...they like you a lot too," she added. "You came over sometimes when we were in collège together."

Adrien was silent for a time, trying to pull up the memories, the murky impressions of something that felt so warm, just out of reach. He shut his eyes for much longer than a blink.

"Do you think they'd remember me?" he asked, curious.

"I think they would."

Marinette's smile was encouraging. She spoke with conviction - she had no reason to believe they wouldn't remember him, after all. They'd always been good at remembering her friends.

"They'd probably like to visit at some point, actually. I mean, when you feel up to visitors? If you want..."

"Now you're getting my hopes up."

He was half teasing, but it felt good, thinking of people who would actually want to visit, to help pass the time, people who cared whether or not he was all right. He couldn't remember their names, but...

"Tell me about them?"

"Papa's the baker."

Her eyes were shining as she launched right into describing them - clearly, she loved her family. "He's really amazing. I don't think there's anything he can't do with sugar." She giggled. "And his talents aren't limited to just baking. He's the one who taught me to play video games. Of course, the student eventually surpassed the master..."

That was putting it mildly, anyway.

"And Maman, she does most of the cooking for things that aren't baked goods. She's really supportive of both of us. She and Papa have a really good relationship - it'll be their twenty-fifth anniversary in two years. I hope-"

I hope to have a relationship like theirs someday.

She caught herself before she actually said it, and her cheeks flushed.

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