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'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.

Adrien listened, his eyes half closed, his mouth turned up at the edges, the details coming more clearly to his mind. He still couldn't picture Tom and Sabine, didn't know their names, but he remembered how they made him feel, even if he didn't remember the circumstances.

He was following her until she cut off, and his brow pinched in confusion. She hadn't said enough to put the clues together.

"... you hope?"

Ah, whoops.

He'd clearly heard her say something - she'd just have to bite the bullet and tell him what it was. She smiled sheepishly and brought her hand up to rub at the back of her head, a little embarrassed.

"...I hope I can have a relationship like theirs someday. They... they really made things work."

After their conversation earlier, Adrien couldn't help but put it together, couldn't help but realize she meant she wanted that with him.

His heart gave a little flutter before he tamped it down nervously. He couldn't even remember her parents' names, he had no business thinking along those lines- especially if he did like someone else.

"Yeah?" he asked, searching for something else to ask. "What are they like with each other?"

"They're..."

Marinette wasn't entirely sure how to describe it, but she could darn well try. After eighteen years of watching them, hopefully she'd manage.

"They support each other," she said after a moment. "No matter what. Maman's always been good at encouraging him to do his best. And Papa's always there to encourage her to try the things she's always wanted to try."

Another pause, and then -

"...they're partners."

Partners.

Adrien's heart skipped a beat. His fingers tightened on his blankets.

Partners.

His vision seemed to skip, then roll, and he felt sick to his stomach again, but this time in a way he could maintain, hold back. He squeezed the blankets, taking a slow, deep, steady breath, trying to ride the wave rather than little it roll him into the undertow.

"They sound like that make a... a good team," he said softly.

"They do."

And she could only hope that someday she'd be able to support someone - preferably Adrien - the way her parents supported each other. That was the goal, anyway.

"...they're my role models for... pretty much everything. Except design, your dad's my role model for that, but-"

She realized what she was saying a moment after the words were out of her mouth, and brought her hands up to cover her face as she went crimson.

"Please don't tell him I said that though."

Adrien smiled immediately, distracted from the shifting landscape of his own mind by Marinette's shyness. He reached out to put a hand on one of hers, not pulling it away from her face, just touching her.

"I won't, but I think he might already know."

"...you think?"

Oh god.

Marinette made a small, distressed noise and peeked out at him from between her fingers. "I hope not, if he knows then he'll think I've been sucking up to him, won't he...?!"

She'd already tanked her chances in the industry by flaking on her classes. The last thing she needed was for her fashion idol to think she was some kind of suck-up.

"Have you been?" he asked, puzzled. Gabriel detested suck-ups, and if she'd been treating him that way, he couldn't imagine Gabriel giving her any special attention in return, but he hadn't yet seen them interact.

"I can't see you doing that."

"No!"

The protest came immediately, but then Marinette looked down at her hands and shrugged uselessly. ...at least they weren't covering her face anymore.

"I don't think so, anyway...? But if he knows how much I admire him then that's going to cast anything I've said or done into a suspicious light and...!"

She'd always had a tendency to imagine worst-case scenarios, though Alya had witnessed the brunt of it in school.

Adrien tilted his head to the other side, watching her, mildly puzzled as she rode it out, then reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder.

"Relax."

He squeezed, softly.

"Admiring is fine. It's someone's actions that define them. Unless you were to start fawning over him..." he paused to pull a face, "You're not going to have a problem."

"...if anything, I'd fawn over his designs, not him..."

Which was probably about 75% of the reason Gabriel was okay with having her in the house, honestly. What she admired was the work he put into it, not the wealth or status that came with his name.

...

Also if she was going to fawn over anyone in the Agreste family, it would be Adrien.

Adrien didn't actually know that, as far as he remembered- Marinette treated him like a whole person, someone she loved but had no illusions about. He felt real when he was with her.

"And he's having you work on them!" he pointed out, happily.

"He must have seen your work at some point, right? If he trusts you to touch those sketches, he must have?"

"...honestly, I think he was just trying to distract me. Maybe they were discarded designs...?"

Marinette was good at what she did when she was on her game, but she'd been off her game ever since Adrien had been shot.

"But he has seen my work. Actually - there's a funny story about that. You've worn my work."

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