💀 pour oublier ma peine immense

[bonnechance]

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.

Comments

[villainousthetic]

In his heart of hearts, beneath the layers of ice and acidic armor, Gabriel felt a twinge of pride for her.

"A wise choice, especially considering how often he was turned against you."

It was a cold thing to say, but it was also utterly true. Innocents and romantics might have argued otherwise, but keeping that knowledge from Adrien had probably saved Marinette's life more than a handful of times.

"Though I don't suppose he would have gotten very far." It would have been better to quit while ahead, but Gabriel was never one to sugarcoat things. "Deplorable combat technique, not nearly enough offense, no sense of when to press the advantage."

The fencer in him. The perfectionist.

[bonnechance]

It had happened more often as time had gone on. When standard akuma had failed, Hawkmoth had seemed to favor those with a manipulative bent, who could pull Chat Noir under their sway in some way and set him loose.

Divide and conquer, or so the saying went.

As Ladybug, she had never really discussed the times Chat Noir had tried to hunt her down with her partner; she knew it wasn't really him doing it, and she hadn't wanted him to carry the weight of that with him. There was a part of her that hoped he remembered very little of those experiences, if he remembered any of them at all.

She managed to hold her tongue at first, but when Gabriel moved on to critique his fighting, she flared up.

"His combat technique wasn't deplorable," She hissed. "He was good. He saved so many lives with it!"

Hers included.

But if this recovery went badly, the one life he wouldn't have been able to save would be his own.

[villainousthetic]

Even if Adrien had limited memory of those experiences, Gabriel did not. She'd made a wise choice in keeping her identity a secret, even if she'd made mistakes today. Ultimately, she'd most likely kept them alive.

Gabriel probably should have been annoyed, but if anything, he liked the way she snapped at him. So few people had the courage to do so. (Of course, she was also defending his son. That helped.)

"He did, but he also had a habit of intentionally using himself as a human shield. He relied on your luck, and luck has a way of running out."

He came to a stop, suddenly pained, looking down at the hospital bed again. After a long look at Adrien, he left his bedside, came back with a slightly damp stack of paper towels, and handed a few of them to Marinette.

Without a word, he went to work cleaning the blood from Adrien's skin, navigating carefully around all the tubing and wiring. It wasn't perfect, but he didn't want him covered in dried blood, either.

[bonnechance]

...he never should have relied on her luck. She could have told him - if she'd been willing to drop even a small hint about herself - that her luck was the absolute worst. Tikki's luck had seen her through the bulk of the last three years; it was only a matter of time before her own luck ruined it.

Her voice caught in her throat again, and she looked down, her gaze resting on his face as the sound of Gabriel's footsteps reached her ears when he went to fetch paper towels. When he returned with them and handed some to her, she didn't need to be told what to do; she took them carefully in hand and began to clean the blood from his other side.

There was so much more of it than there should have been. She felt ill again, just looking at it.

Her cleaning brought her hand to his forehead, and she gently brushed a few strands of hair away so she could get at some of the blood that was crusting under his bangs.

"...if it wasn't for him," She managed, after a moment or two, "I don't think I would have lasted more than a week out there. I owe him everything."

Biting her lip, she chanced a glance up at Gabriel's face.

"So if there's - if there's anything I can do to help, then... please... let me help."

[villainousthetic]

Adrien's skin was warm and soft, and he couldn't help but be reminded of when he was much younger. He had never been good with children -- Adrien's mother had been the one to want them, and she'd wanted him so badly.

Despite Gabriel's frigid old heart, Adrien was impossible not to care for. That quality drew people naturally to him, but as he watched Marinette brush his hair back from his face, he began to understand. For her, it was more than that.

This was deeper than a partnership.

Gabriel regarded her carefully.

"... you may."

He paused, then skipped over the heavy bandaging on one side of Adrien's head. "He will be moved home as soon as possible. You are welcome to visit him there."

This was assuming the hospital would let him. But even if it turned out that Adrien went downhill, he wanted him at home. Not here, not in the hands of people he didn't know and personally background check, where anyone might walk in, where anyone might take his picture and capitalize on the Agreste affinity for misfortune, speculate on what might have put him there...

No. He would see to it.

[bonnechance]

"Thank you."

Marinette's smile was brief. Very brief, and it only just barely reached her eyes, but her relief at being allowed to stay close and make sure he was going to be okay was entirely genuine, and there was the barest hint of the quality that had made Adrien remark that she had his mother's smile so long ago.

She kept it turned on Gabriel for only a moment before she returned her attention to Adrien.

...he was breathing, and there was some color in his cheeks. That was something, even if he was comatose, even if he might never be the same when he woke up. He was still alive.

She had been so sure, back in Hawkmoth's lair, that he wasn't going to be.

The first couple of days would be crucial, she was sure. The doctors would have to run their tests and determine what course of action to take from there - but if he could just last that long, then maybe...

Marinette wiped up the last of the blood on the side she was working on, and then slipped her hand into his to give it a light squeeze. It was only a momentary thing - she let go just after - but some part of her hoped that even if he wasn't conscious, he might at least be aware that two people who cared about him were present.

That was all she could hope for, for now.

[villainousthetic]

The longer they spent with him, the more Gabriel settled, secure in the knowledge that Adrien was alive. So long as he was alive, there was hope. The threat of brain damage still loomed over them, but that could be dealt with.

He'd have the best possible medical care available. He'd make sure of it.

Adrien didn't quite respond when Marinette held his hand, but as she pulled away, his fingers gave a tiny twitch, kittenish. It might have been a misfire of nerves, but it looked very much like he was trying to keep her close.

Gabriel felt a twinge, and looked to the door.

"There will be an investigation," he said quietly, thinking ahead, raising his eyes to take in the bruises on her face.

"You will need to tell them," he picked his words carefully, "about being attacked. About what the man looked like. They will look for him, so you will need to be as detailed as possible."

He told her more with what he didn't say, with what he did. The girl was clever, and he knew it. She also had the determination to keep secrets. He didn't like relying on her... but it seemed he had little choice.

[bonnechance]

They'll look for him.

But they won't find him.

Plagg's power was that of destruction. Gabriel and Plagg together had utterly disposed of the man who had been Hawkmoth; there would be nothing for the police to find. Gabriel would probably come under suspicion. She might, too.

In fact, when they didn't find any trace of Hawkmoth, it was almost an inevitability.

But Gabriel hadn't touched the gun and neither had she, and she was pretty sure that once he had lost his transformation, their enemy hadn't been wearing gloves. There would be a clue in the fingerprints, and the police would find it. She just had to ride this out until then.

Her mouth felt dry.

"They're going to ask why I was there with Adrien... and if they ask our friends they'll find out that he and I didn't really hang out on our own much. We went to the same lycée, but..." She bit her lip. The police might assume it was a date, if she kept quiet about it. It might be easier to make them believe that, too, but it felt like a lie. "But... he was always closer to Nino than he was to me."

Her expression hardened.

"...whatever we tell them, we have to make sure they accept it."

Because, so help her god, if Adrien did wake up, she didn't want anyone distressing him with questions he had no way of answering.

[villainousthetic]

What Gabriel would have the biggest problem explaining was how he'd come across them. Though the press didn't have much idea of his private life or his relationship with his son, all of his friend knew very well that Gabriel didn't spend time with Adrien.

Gabriel, sadly, was oblivious to this. He was in for a very rude awakening.

There was no question in his mind that Adrien would go along with them. He wouldn't want his indentity coming out either. Hopefully, he would have the good sense to never ask what exactly had happened to Hawkmoth.

"You've been through quite a lot," he said carefully. "It would be understandable if you didn't want to speak about what you've been through."

He was all too aware of the possibility of someone listening at the door. If what had happened with Adrien's mother was anything to go by, the police would be here soon.

"Miss Dupain-Cheng, please stay here with Adrien." he asked, moving toward the door. "I have arrangements to make."

... later, he'd realize that he felt comfortable leaving her with him. At that moment, nobody else would have been enough.

[bonnechance]

On the other hand, his friends also knew he could be an overbearing micromanager, so it wasn't too much of a stretch to think he might have had a GPS tracker in Adrien's phone or had someone keeping tabs on him.

Marinette, sadly, did not have the presence of mind to clue him in to the possibilities of what he might be asked and what their friends might say. It was all she could do to keep from breaking down right here and now.

She was only just barely holding it together, because if Adrien did wake up, she didn't want him to wake to a sobbing girl at his bedside.

She nodded mutely as Gabriel went for the door, and then she settled herself in to keep watch.

Medical knowledge was not one of her strong suits. The beeping of the monitors, the tubes, the wires - she had no idea what any of them meant or how the worked. All she knew was that they were helping Adrien tread the very narrow line between life and death.

She hoped it was enough. It had to be enough.

And she swore, if anyone came in here to interfere with his recovery, she would fight them.