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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Her breath caught in her throat at the familiar nickname.

Princess.

Even when she and Adrien had lost touch after starting university, she and Chat Noir had remained close. She didn't see him as often as Marinette as she did as Ladybug, but they'd still occasionally hung out together.

There was a part of him, however small and subconscious it was, that still remembered her, even if he needed to be reminded of her name and the circumstances of their meeting. Things were going to be okay, even if it took time for it all to come back to the surface.

She smiled gently and squeezed his fingers.

"That's okay," She said softly. "We'll take it slow until you're all caught up."

Adrien smiled as he drifted off, breathing evenly, fingers finally going slack in hers. There was a soft knock on the door, and Nooroo flew up and into the collar of Marinette's overshirt, taking refuge with her as one of the nursing staff came in to check on Adrien, take his vitals, ask a few questions about how he was acting and reasoning. The nurse patted her shoulder and left not long after, and Nooroo was free to creep out from his hiding place.

"I wanted to see him," he admitted softly. "I probably confused him, but I wanted to see him again."

It had been such a long time.

"Are you all right, Marinette?"

She brought her hand up to her collar as Nooroo took shelter there, and turned her head to look at the nurse as she entered. Marinette was careful to answer the questions as accurately as she could, and once the woman left, she settled back into her chair and turned her attention to Nooroo.

"I would have done the same thing in your place," She admitted.

She sort of had done the same thing already. It was just that it was easier to explain away her presence at Adrien's side than a kwami's.

"...I'm okay. He's... he's doing better, so that's... it's a good thing, a great thing."

"Did he always call you Princess?" Nooroo asked, his voice softening.

Tikki was far from the only romantic among them. There had been no doubt in his mind, watching them from afar all these years, and Ladybug and Chat Noir felt deeply for each other. But that particular pet name hadn't been one he'd heard before.

It was a sign. A good one.

"Chat Noir called me that," Marinette said softly. "I mean... he called me that, when we met while he had his mask on and I didn't."

She didn't know for sure exactly how many Ladybugs and Chat Noirs there had been over the years, but she was pretty sure how tangled-up and convoluted their lives had been wasn't exactly common. What were the chances of them striking up a friendship with each other in every possible combination?

...maybe it meant something. She hoped that it did.

"Then that's a good sign, right? Even if he doesn't remember everything, he still thought you were familiar!"

Nooroo sounded overwhelmingly like Tikki when he was excited and happy, and it seemed that they could speak with no problem when Adrien was asleep. Nooroo wasn't at all worried about waking him.

"... he's still so much the same."

"I think so. I hope so."

It wasn't just the nickname - he'd even said that he felt like he should know her, even though he couldn't remember that name. Marinette would hold on to that memory as time went on. It could only get better from here, couldn't it? He'd weathered the worst of it.

"...from when he was younger, you mean?" She questioned with a tilt of her head. "What was he like as a kid, Nooroo?"

Nooroo settled down to smile, his eyes warm, distant.

"Always wanting to be held." That, above everything, he remembered. "You'd think nobody ever paid attention to him, the way he'd follow people around. He never liked being alone."

Settling down on Marinette's knee, Nooroo gave it a bit more thought. "When he first learned to walk, he wanted to run everywhere. But he wasn't very good at walking yet." Chuckling, Nooroo shook his head. "That didn't seem to bother him."

...that really did sound like him. Marinette chuckled fondly and reached over to smooth down some of Adrien's bangs.

"I can picture it," She admitted, imagining a small, bright-eyed bundle of energy managing a few steps forward, crashing to the ground, and then picking himself right back up. (She could also imagine Gabriel, looking distinctly pained every time he crashed down, but too far away to pluck him up before his son did it himself. She couldn't really picture his mother all that well; all she had to go on was a picture and a few scant words of description.)

She hoped he'd be able to run and jump as much as he liked soon. Since she couldn't do anything about that, though...

"I'm glad we'll be able to make sure he's not alone now."

Adrien's fingertips twitched as Marinette petted his hair. It was the same movement he'd made all through his coma, but this time, his eyelids fluttered. He made a small sound, turning unconsciously toward the warmth of her hand.

All of this without waking.

"Me too," Nooroo sighed happily.

"Gabriel had excellent reflexes!" he added with a tiny laugh. "If he was close enough, he would catch him. And Adrien would always fall asleep on him when he was a baby. None of us could ever figure it out. Gabriel wouldn't rock or sing to him. He'd just hold him and pat his back."

"What, really?"

Well, of course. Nooroo wouldn't say it if it wasn't true. Chuckling, she cast her gaze down onto Adrien's face and studied him for a few moments.

It wasn't quite as easy to imagine him as an infant, fast asleep in his father's arms, but that was mostly because there was a huge difference between a baby and a young man. Still - it did explain a lot. Adrien had clearly responded to his father's attention from a very early age. When he didn't seem to have it quite so much - when his father had grown more distance...

Her heart gave a sharp pang, and she reached for his hand and gave it a light squeeze. Gabriel wouldn't neglect him again. There was no way she would let him.

"I guess there are some things that just can't compare to the bond between a father and son."

"He did it again when he woke up," Nooroo pointed out thoughtfully. Of course, that probably had a lot to do with Adrien's head injury, but Gabriel had held him just the same way, and he'd calmed down.

Adrien's fingers twitched as Marinette took his hand, and he shifted, turning his head a bit with a little groan. He didn't fully wake up, but he half tried to grasp her fingers before his hand went slack again and his breathing evened out.

"I played with Adrien when he was a baby," Nooroo added, "But once he started walking I had to keep hidden more and more. Too much risk of him saying something to someone."

"...that's right, he did..."

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Marinette's thoughts started to wander, but they were completely and utterly derailed when she felt Adrien's fingers twitch and heard the rustle of his sheets as he shifted. Her gaze snapped to him and she watched him with concern as he settled back into slumber.

She did not let go of his hand.

"Wish I could have seen that," She murmured absently. But then, even if she'd been around, she wouldn't have remembered it, either; she would also have been a baby. "What about now, though? Are you going to introduce yourself to him again? I'm sure he'd want to get to know you."

Adrien slept on once he'd settled, breathing slowly. He wouldn't sleep nearly as well without Marinette there, but they didn't know that yet.

"... I've thought about it," Nooroo said hesitantly, "But I worry that Gabriel will be angry."

It was possible, but honestly, Nooroo had every right to see him.

Marinette's brows knit together and she pressed her lips into a thin line.

On the one hand, yes, Gabriel was Adrien's father. Even if he had a funny way of showing it, he did have his son's best interests at heart. On the other, Adrien should be allowed to decide whether or not accepting the existence of the kwami and the Miraculous was something he wanted to do, even if his memories were jumbled.

What had happened wasn't Nooroo's fault.

(It wasn't Plagg's, either; somehow, they had to figure out a way to make it possible for both of them to see Adrien.)

"He shouldn't be," She muttered, although she knew that Gabriel didn't always do as he should. "You care about him. You're not going to hurt him."

Seeing Nooroo would raise questions, trip memories. A former classmate and a complicated friend made total sense, but a creature like Nooroo was harder to come by. They would have to explain what he was, if he didn't reawaken parts of Adrien's mind simply by showing himself.

It would put them one step closer to Adrien remembering Plagg, and then, remembering himself as Chat Noir.

That was what Gabriel would take issue with. Even if Adrien was technically an adult, he was still Gabriel's son, and he'd spent his entire life being controlling and overprotective. Him getting older didn't fix things. If anything, him being hurt made it worse.

"I did hurt him," Nooroo said quietly. He hadn't been in control of that, of course, but... this had all been accomplished through his powers.

"No," She corrected, shaking her head firmly. "Hawkmoth hurt him."

...she couldn't help the involuntary little shudder that came with the villain's name; even now, just thinking about the man was liable to give her nightmares. It was probably a good thing that she didn't sleep until she really had to; exhaustion was good for avoiding dreams.

"He might have used your powers to do it, but it was never you consciously choosing to hurt either of us, or to go after any of the people he used," She explained, and then reached over to cup Nooroo's cheek with one finger. "You wouldn't do any of that now that you're back in control of yourself, right? That was all him, not you."

Hawkmoth.

Adrien may have been asleep, but some part of him heard the name. He didn't quite stir, but his fingertips twitched again.

Nooroo looked up and into Marinette's eyes, softened by what he saw. Tikki was right. She was a special one. He nuzzled Marinette's finger.

"Soon," he promised, thoughtfully. He wasn't ready, not quite yet, but soon. First, Marinette needed a bit more time with him.

Her expression softened, too, and she shifted her hand up to give Nooroo a gentle pat on the head.

"Soon," She agreed.

As much as she wanted - needed, really - to be by Adrien's side, she also knew that she couldn't and shouldn't be the only one there. Adrien's social circle had always been small, and it wasn't fair for her to keep him from the others who had been a part of his world whether he realized it or not.

"...he's lucky to have you looking out for him, Nooroo."

"You too, Marinette."

Her and Tikki, and Plagg, and Gabriel, even Nathalie. They'd all played a part in keeping him safe, allowing him to wake again.

"You should sleep. In a real bed. I'll come and get you when he wakes again."

...she knew she needed to sleep, but she really didn't want to leave him. Not even for a moment. The chair had been fine for the entirety of the time she'd been here so far; what was one more night?

Marinette looked like something of a wreck, though. If this kept up, Adrien would be worried when he woke and saw her. With a sigh, she leaned over and lifted his hand just enough to press a soft kiss to his knuckles.

"I'll be back," She promised in a whisper, and gently set his hand back down before releasing it and getting to her feet. She shot Nooroo a small smile. "...thank you, Nooroo."

And, for the first time, she left Adrien's room in search of the guest room she was supposed to have been sleeping in all along.

Adrien woke again that afternoon, feeling cautiously hungry, really thirsty, and really needing the bathroom. His head was pounding, and he felt gross and shaky.

With a deep breath, he cracked an eye open and looked around, finding his room absent of anyone else. Carefully, he nudged the blankets off.

While he trusted Marinette, he was still a teenager, and she was a beautiful girl. He did not want to sink to needing help with this. His head spun as he put both bare feet on the floor, and he heard a gasp, followed by a fluttering sound behind him.

Straining his too-tight neck muscles, Adrien glanced behind him and found nothing. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself up to his feet, gripping the edge of the bedside table until the room stopped rocking precariously. His coordination was off. He felt drunk.

A few deep breaths later, Adrien took one step, and then another. He tipped, then made it to the doorway, catching a death grip on it before he took a few more breaths, found the counter. The next few minutes were tense but ultimately, a success.

The trouble came when Adrien decided to push his luck by going to the sink to brush his teeth, because he made the earthshattering mistake of looking into the mirror. He gripped the counter, each breath searing in his throat as the world went overwarm.

The blood had been cleaned away, the bandages mostly removed, leaving all but the worst uncovered. Adrien brushed his hair back, finding the dressings just below his hairline where the bullet had entered. It was stitched up, nice and clean, but the skin was still mottled with bruising. He followed the trajectory with his fingers, feeling numb and detached, and touched his fingers to the back of his head, where there was another healing wound.

Adrien didn't know much about guns. He didn't know it was a small caliber round, that it had lodged somewhere in the back of his skull, which had probably saved his life by sparing him an explosive exit wound. The surgeons had been able to remove it.

Later, he would learn that most of the damage had been to the frontal area right behind the forehead, that the bullet had slowed and pushed aside rather than torn some of the more important areas, bruising and battering, but not destroying most of his brain. Adrien's primary problem now was the pressure caused by the edema as it all healed, but thankfully, that was controlled first by the actual bullet wound (which had, ironically, saved his life by making sure the swelling wouldn't cause further damage during the most dangerous stage) and now by a metric boatload of drugs.

In short, Adrien was beyond lucky. By all rights, he shouldn't have been alive, let alone able to make it to the bathroom on his own.

But he still nearly threw up when the reality of it crashed into him, and he very abruptly had to sit down on the bathroom floor, clutching the top of the counter and struggling to breathe like a normal person, so he wouldn't pass out.

Nooroo made for the door.

He came bursting into Marinette's room, flitting down to her bedside. Adrien wasn't hurt, so he tried to be as calm was he could, but the anxiety still showed.

"... Marinette! Marinette, he's awake!"

Edited (missed one (1) letter) 2016-05-07 08:10 (UTC)

To her credit, she'd tried to sleep. And she'd actually managed to drift off.

It was just that, once she was out, she actually dreamed. It started off as more vague, fuzzy impressions than an actual dream in any sense of the word - but then it solidified, became more real, more terrifying.

First, darkness. So much darkness that it was suffocating, but then there was a pinprick of light off in the distance. She'd started for it, of course. But as she walked she felt eyes on her, felt the brushing of hands, heard cackling - and the light never got closer. She ran, and she made some progress, but then she tripped.

When she picked herself up off the ground and looked up, gasping, she was in Hawkmoth's lair again.

"No," She breathed, looking around wildly. Chat Noir stood where he always did, poised and ready to strike. Her fingers were clutching the villain's brooch, and although she tried to keep herself from doing so, she yanked it away from his lapel. A gunshot. Laughter.

His laughter filled her ears, seeped into her mind.

The barrel of the gun pressed into her forehead.

"Marinette!"

She shot up, eyes snapping open with a start, and let out a strangled cry as she took in the sight of Nooroo at her bedside. It took her a moment to process the rest of what he was saying, but after a few seconds to catch her breath, she realized.

He could only mean Adrien, and if the kwami was this worked up, it didn't matter that she was having nightmares. She threw her blankets off and darted for the door, not even bothering to change out of her pajamas.

Running so quickly through the halls of the Agreste manor was probably not the safest thing in the world, but it wasn't like there were a ton of people who came and went from here aside from the doctors and nurses these days, and they knew to stay out of her way. She made a mad dash for Adrien's room, had to clap a hand over her mouth to muffle a shriek when she saw his bed empty, and only managed to keep from outright screaming because she saw his bathroom door slightly ajar and remembered what he'd said about wanting to brush his teeth earlier.

She found him there, clutching the top of the counter, and dropped to her knees beside him to hold out a hand to steady him.

"Adrien..?" She whispered. "Adrien, I'm here."

Adrien's vision tunneled, and only concentrating on his breathing kept him from passing out. His iron grip on the counter kept him from falling over, but it all made him terribly dizzy. Marinette's voice reached him through the fog, and her hand on his shoulder brought him back like a lifeline.

With great effort, he turned his head to look up at her. He was pale and sweaty, but already coming back. Being in a sitting position was doing him some good already.

"... hey." He sounded breathless, and a moment later the guilt crept in. "Didn't mean to scare you."

His teeth chattered a little, lingering shock.

She wouldn't say that he hadn't scared her - he had. She wouldn't say that it was okay - it wasn't. But she shifted her hand away from his shoulder so that she could wrap hsr arm around him, and then took him by the elbow with her other hand.

"Do you think you're okay to get back to bed or do you need a minute?"

Marinette's voice was gentle, but there was an underlying firmness to it, too. She wasn't going to be going anywhere until she could be certain he was okay.

...even if she had to princess carry him back to his bed to do it.

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