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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Oh. Whoops.

It had thrown her off - Adrien had woken and fallen asleep without a word. Getting off the phone with Gabriel, she had assumed that was what Nooroo was asking about. Her mistake. Even three years later, she still jumped to conclusions sometimes.

"He didn't say anything... but he opened his eyes, and he smiled." He'd looked right at her. "He looked almost like himself again. Then he sort of... made an mmph sound and fell asleep again." She bit her lip. "It's not much, but it's good, right?"

Nooroo hardly seemed bothered by her assumption. In truth, any sane person probably would have thought that was what he was asking, but Nooroo had priorities, and all of them happened to center on one thing.

"It's wonderful!" he beamed, turning back to look at Adrien's face.

A weight seemed to have lifted from his tiny shoulders. Nooroo hadn't mentioned a thing about how he was feeling, but the change in his attitude nearly made him seem like a different person.

"Yeah," Marinette agreed, following Nooroo's gaze to Adrien's face but then glancing at the kwami out of the corner of her eye after just a moment. "It is."

It was also wonderful to see how the news had brightened the little guy up. He'd had enough hardship in the last three years; it was about time he got some good news for a change.

...it was about time all of them got some good news, but Nooroo especially deserved it.

"You really care about him," She said softly. "He's lucky to have you."

"Of course I care about him!"

Nooroo turned back, still bubbly and overjoyed. They'd hoped, they'd wished, and Adrien was getting better. It would be a long road, but he'd already gotten through the most dangerous part. He was going to be all right.

"I've known him his whole life!"

Nooroo hesitated, then seemed to realize what he'd said. "Almost."

"That long?"

It came as something of a surprise. Of course, there was the three-year gap where Nooroo's only contact with him was to transform that man into Chat Noir's nemesis, but... Something didn't quite add up. Chat Noir - Adrien - her partner hadn't seemed to know anything about the Miraculous or about kwami prior to receiving Plagg's ring.

But if Nooroo had known him that long...?

She had started to suspect that he had been Gabriel's kwami once, but there were bits and pieces of that theory that didn't add up, too. At what point had he rejected his kwami? Too soon, and Nooroo wouldn't have had the chance to know him. But too late, and Adrien should have remembered him...

"Is... is it okay if I ask about that, or is that not your story to tell?"

Nooroo belatedly realized what he'd let slip, and a distant sadness slid back into his eyes.

He couldn't tell her everything, but... maybe a little bit. Only his part.

"He wouldn't remember us," he said quietly. "At least, I don't think he-"

He was cut off by a knock at the door, and Nooroo flew quickly into Marinette's collar, hiding from Nathalie and the nurse. They'd have to wait to have that conversation another time.

Us?

Marinette was left with more questions than answers, but when the knock on the door sounded, her eyes went wide and she shrank back as Nooroo hid himself in her collar. She stayed quiet and tried to keep out of their way, not wanting to interfere with anything that might make Adrien better, and also not wanting to risk Nathalie catching sight of the kwami.

If she had learned anything about Gabriel's assistant in the last few days, it was that she didn't miss a thing.

She could speak with Nooroo later. For now - as ever - Adrien was the priority, and she looked on with no small amount of anxiety as the nurse looked him over.

Us.

Nathalie and the nurse conversed while the medical professional looked Adrien over, testing his vitals and reflexes. He wasn't very responsive, but a small pinch made him shift a little.

They grilled Marinette for what exactly had happened, and the nurse in particular seemed delighted by the news that he'd smiled. According to her, it showed that he retained muscle control. It was a good indication that his brain hadn't been starved of oxygen during his ordeal, so the damage was all the more likely to heal. She patted Marinette's shoulder and assured her that during the first day or so he'd likely wake up for only a few minutes at a time, but that he'd gradually stay up for longer and longer stretches of time.

Gabriel came home some hours later and came directly to Adrien's room. He didn't seem particularly interested in talking, but he stood by the bedside, holding Adrien's hand in both of his, watching his face.

It was a subtle change, but he seemed like he was sleeping now, not comatose.

---

The next time Adrien woke up, it was very late, long after Gabriel had left, presumably to go to bed. According to Nathalie, he had a deadline to meet in the morning.

Adrien slept peacefully until around two on the morning, when he began to shift a little, fingers twitching, then moving. He pushed at his covers, frowned in his sleep, then blearily opened his eyes, taking a deep breath.

He fumbled one hand upward, touching his chest.

... it hurt to breathe.

Apparently, he hadn't yet noticed anyone else in the room.

Compared to how Marinette had slept before the incident, over the past week, she'd been sleeping very little. Lightly dozing, mostly for an hour or two at a time, easy to wake. Sometimes, during the day when Adrien was deeply asleep, she slept for several hours in a row. It worked for her - she wasn't really doing anything strenuous, just keeping vigil, so even though she wasn't sleeping a lot she also wasn't too tired.

In theory, there was a bed for her in a guest room. In practice, she... spent most of her time sleeping in a chair at Adrien's bedside. It was fine.

This night was no exception. Adrien shifted, and the motion rustled his sheets. The rustle started the process of pulling Marinette out of her slumber; Adrien's intake of breath was what finished it.

She sat up with a start, eyes wide, and her gaze rested on him.

"...Adrien?"

Her voice was quiet, worried. She saw his hand over his chest, but she didn't know what it meant.

The lights weren't particularly bright this time of night, and it made it harder to focus, but the more he blinked, the more he could glean from his surroundings. He still felt slow and foggy, but it was getting better.

Adrien.

Her.

Her.

Adrien looked up and found her, hand slowly squeezing on the front of his pajamas. Something... wasn't quite fitting. More than the bed, the pain, the sludge inside his thoughts. Her voice and what she was saying and her face didn't fit together, and he didn't know why.

"... mmh." Oh, ow. He swallowed, and that brought a fresh wave of pain.

"... oh, dammit," he whispered, his voice dry and wrecked. He knew he was about to cough, and he felt a glimmer of horror before it came, knew it was going to hurt.

He was right. It did. It hurt so much he felt ill, and his vision swam.

"... that smarts."

"..should I call someone to come help..?"

She didn't know what Nathalie or a nurse or anyone would be able to do. Give him painkillers, maybe. Explain what had happened to him. But she was terrified to look away. The last time she'd taken her eyes off him just long enough to get to Gabriel's contact entry in her phone, he'd slipped right back into slumber.

But maybe it was better for him to sleep until the pain receded?

No, that didn't seem right, either.

She bit her lip and leaned over, hesitantly reaching for his hand. She wanted to take it, to reassure him that he was okay, he was alive, and he would only get better from here, but the expression on her face when she met his eyes it was pretty clear there was a part of her that worried he wouldn't want her to.

Adrien hadn't had the chance to see her without her transformation, after all. As far as Marinette knew, he would only recognize her as a classmate, one he hadn't been in a lot of contact with prior to all of this. Would he even want her here?

Her stomach churned, and she kept her gaze on his face, watching for any sign of further discomfort on his part.

Adrien didn't reply right away. It was a little difficult to listen when he was trying not to throw up. As much as his ribs hurt now, he was sure throwing up would hurt worse. As her hand closed around his, he automatically clutched it, struggling to slow down and breathe properly.

Though the nurses had done all they could to keep his airways clear, only coughing really helped to clean everything out. Finally, he was free to breathe, but it took a few breaths to really build up a momentum, and the pain left tears in his eyes. His head was pounding.

"... no. M'okay. I'm good." He put his free hand to his chest and took several more deep breaths, despite how much they hurt.

He had a death grip on her hand.

After a few more seconds, Adrien looked up through messy strands of his slightly sweaty hair and tried to give her a reassuring smile.

He looked neither okay nor good, but Marinette didn't have it in her to argue with him when he was like this. She nodded slowly and reached over with her free hand to brush some of his hair away from his face.

How tightly he was gripping her hand hurt, but that pain was nothing compared to what he must be feeling. She made sure to keep from wincing and squeezed his hand.

...it was so much like him, to smile and try to reassure her when he was the one who had nearly died—

"Do you need anything? Water, or..."

Would he even be able to drink, or would he risk coughing it up? If she did leave to fetch him a glass of water, would he still be awake when she returned? She didn't want to leave his side for anything. She wanted to keep holding his hand, to keep him here and grounded, awake, not sleeping. She was so afraid that if he slept too deeply he might not wake up again.

"...I don't know how to help," She whispered. "But I know you must be hurting."

... her hand felt good.

It was an unconscious thing, a deeply buried memory that he wasn't aware of, but he automatically leaned into Marinette's hand. He'd done it hundreds of times over the years, and it comforted him now as it always had.

His breathing calmed down, second by second, and he made himself loosen his grip on her hand.

Water... water sounded good, but he could barely hold a thought in his head for more than a second or two before it slid away. His head hurt. Everything hurt, but his head...

"Why does it hurt so bad?" he whispered, raspy.

It was a tough question to answer. Marinette bit her lip and looked down, uncertain.

His grip on her hand may have loosened, but she made no move to pull her hand away. Rather, she deliberately kept it there so that he could hold it more tightly if he needed to - if something triggered another wave of pain, for example. If he coughed. She didn't want to make him reach for her. She wanted to be there already.

...if only answering him was as simple as keeping their hands clasped together.

"Do... do you remember anything of what happened before you woke up here? Anything at all?"

The doctors had brought up the possibility of brain damage. It was possible - maybe even likely - that he wouldn't remember what had caused him to end up like this. If that was the case... what should she tell him?

Gabriel's story, the one given to the police, so he would be able to recite it if they questioned him when they found out he'd woken up?

Her stomach clenched at just the idea. No. It was a lie, and she knew it, and she didn't want to lie to him. It might have been necessary to lie to others, but she never ever wanted to lie to him.

But if she told him the truth, she'd have to tell him about Plagg. If he knew about Plagg, he would ask where he was. If he demanded that Gabriel give him back, then...

She didn't think it would be pretty.

It even hurt to frown.

Unconsciously, Adrien kept gripping her hand. He didn't think for a moment about pulling away -- his thoughts weren't in the order than a normal person might have. Once logic started to enter the equation, he'd remember to be more reserved, but everything right now was based on reflex and emotion.

Adrien needed the comfort. She was a source of it, though he wasn't sure why, and he would be unable to explain it.

Asking him to remember was like asking him to turn himself inside out. He not only couldn't, he had no reference to begin from. Remembering was a tangled, ugly web, nothing he could visualize. Before was an ever more vague concept. But her voice was so concerned, so soft, and he wanted so much to answer her that he couldn't help but try.

"... before-" he mumbled. Trying to think in concepts beyond this room was almost too much, but the need to please was ingrained in him, and he couldn't dismiss it offhand.

Anxiety gripped him. He wasn't sure what she wanted. It was hard to hold onto the question. Before-?

"I'm sorry, but I don't know."

"You don't need to apologize..."

She bit her lip. If there was anyone who did need to apologize for this, it was Hawkmoth, but he wasn't in any fit state to offer an apology. ...or do anything at all, seeing as he'd been Cataclysmed into oblivion.

Marinette wished she knew what to tell him.

She would just have to be truthful, but vague. She could lie to other people, but she couldn't lie to her partner - to Adrien. She just couldn't.

"There was an... incident. You were hurt very badly." That was a very, very simplified way of putting it. "...it'll probably take some time before you don't hurt anymore, but you're in good hands. You're being taken care of."

Facts slid in from nowhere. A few things here, disconnected information he had no idea of how to order or categorize. An incident.

The word brought up memories. Screaming. A riot of lights beneath him. A clash of swords. A pair of determined blue eyes. It was gone as soon as he glimpsed it, leaving him more disoriented than before.

You were hurt.

Hands. Warm hands, his mother's kind smile, fingers ruffling his hair.

"... where's Father?" he asked suddenly, anxiously. If something had happened... why weren't they here? Were they safe?

"-and Maman?"

...she didn't know how to answer that.

Adrien's mother had been gone for longer than Marinette had known him. Her stomach churned, and she had to fight to keep her steadily rising panic from showing on her face. The last thing Adrien needed right now was to have any other reason to worry.

But his mother... he should have known she was missing. He should have known she wouldn't be able to answer the question of her whereabouts.

Gabriel's, at least, she could account for.

"He's... he's in his room. I can call him. It looked like you were going to sleep through the night, but he'd want to know you're awake... D-do you want me to call him for you?"

Only how disoriented he was kept him from realizing that there were gaps in Marinette's answer. Adrien gave a small shiver and settled back against his pillows.

"... no. He's probably busy, it's okay."

Adrien flashed her a small smile. She looked so upset, he wanted to reassure her. But his mother... his mother should be here, right?

"Maman, though-" he laughed under his breath. "... she'll be upset if she's not the first to know-"

Nooroo made a very tiny, very pained noise. He hadn't yet made an appearance, and this was sorely tempting him.

"He's not too busy to see you..."

And she would quite literally fight Gabriel if he made it seem as though he was.

This time, though, Marinette wasn't able to keep from wincing when Adrien brought up his mother. She didn't know how to tell him. She couldn't tell him that she didn't know where she was, that no one knew where she was.

"Both of your parents care for you very much, Adrien."

She kept her hand in his, but pulled her other hand back so that she could grab her phone. She'd called him recently, so it was a simple matter of pulling up her recent calls and selecting him again. Was he sleeping? Was he awake?

Well, if he wasn't, he was about to be. She would keep calling Gabriel until he woke up if she had to.

Though Adrien couldn't pinpoint what was wrong, he'd always been empathetic, could always tell when something was bothering her. Despite not having the memories, deep down he was still her partner, and he watched out for her.

So while her words were reassuring, the look in her eyes wasn't. Adrien's face fell a little, and he squeezed Marinette's hand. He knew this girl... but he also didn't. He couldn't recall anything about her, nothing factual, and he wasn't trying.

Not yet.

The worrying and the pain was already draining him. He felt impossibly tired. He leaned back against his pillows with a sigh, watching Marinette's troubled expression. Wordlessly, he pulled her hand into both of his.

He had the vague impulse to bring it to his lips, but it was gone before he could follow through.

Gabriel Agreste you pick up your phone right now.

...Marinette's thoughts weren't especially kind. Of all the times for Gabriel to not be in Adrien's room, it had to be when he woke up. This, this right here, was a major part of the distance between them, she was sure.

She ended the call, then re-dialed. There would be no respite while the voicemail message played.

But that only occupied one hand, and she looked up from her phone with concern as Adrien sighed and leaned back against his pillows. Tired again? That was normal - she'd been told to expect it. But she wanted Gabriel to see his son, and more importantly, she wanted Adrien to see and know that his father was here.

Would he remember this next time he woke? She didn't know.

When he pulled her hand into both of his, she managed to rearrange her features into a smile. "You alright?" She asked, her voice soft.

GABRIEL AGRESTE PICK UP YOUR GODDAMN PHONE.

It was at a good thing Adrien couldn't read her mind.

Edited 2016-04-20 08:34 (UTC)

“I feel like I should be asking you that question.”

Her smile didn’t feel right. Nothing she was saying was lining up with what she was obviously feeling. Instead of feeling suspicious or upset, he was worried about her.

Marinette was spared answering by Adrien’s bedroom door opening, admitted Gabriel. For once, his hair was not perfectly combed. It looked rumpled, like his work clothes, which he was still wearing. It looked like he’d fallen asleep at his desk. He hadn’t answered Marinette’s phone call in favor of coming straight here.

Adrien squeezed Marinette’s hand a little harder when it came in, his expression torn between relief, worry and anxiety. Gabriel didn’t say a word.

Then in three strides, he crossed to Adrien’s bedside, leaned down, and wrapped his arms around him. It must have hurt, but Adrien didn’t make a sound. He lifted both arms to hug him back, tense at first, but slowly relaxing. Adrien's eyes fluttered open again, focusing in confusion on Marinette.

... she was a touchstone, and he hadn't realized it yet.

The next place he looked was at the door, as if he were expecting someone to come through it.

Marinette didn't notice the way Adrien looked at her. When Gabriel entered the room, she looked off to one side as if to give the father and son their privacy.

(She would have stepped out of the room, except Adrien's grip on her hand tightened when he saw his father, and she didn't have it in her to be the one to pull away first when he needed her.)

She didn't want to intrude. The two of them spent so little time together even before the accident - involving herself in what should be their time just felt wrong. But if she'd looked, she would have caught Adrien's look of confusion. If she'd looked, she would have seen the way his gaze wandered to the door.

She saw none of it, and even if she had, there was no way for her to warn Gabriel about the question his son had asked. Not without alerting Adrien to it. If the man had picked up his phone, she could probably have tipped him off somehow and made it sound like a normal part of the conversation, but he hadn't, and now she had no way to bring it up without causing more questions.

...if Adrien asked, she could take her cue as to how to respond from Gabriel. If he didn't, she'd be able to ask him about it once he fell back to sleep.

For now, though, she tried to make herself as small and inconspicuous as possible. This was their moment, not hers.

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