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 had been thinking he'd either have to cut or gel his hair back, but Marinette's fingers on his skin made him reconsider. If it gave her excuses to touch him, he'd keep it like this.

"If you want to take a nap I wouldn't mind," he assured her, counting the beats of her heart as she lay close to him.

He was struck by the familiarity again, the closeness. Moonlight tingled in the back of his mind, the scent of her hair. She'd cuddled up to him like she'd done this a thousand times before.

Had she?

"You're really sure it's okay?"

Marinette might have asked the question, but... her eyes were already starting to droop shut. She was exhausted, and now that the adrenaline that had started coursing through her when Nooroo had burst into her room was wearing off, she honestly felt like she was about to drop.

She probably wouldn't have enough energy to get up even if he said he had changed his mind. He'd have to push her out of the bed.

"...I don't want to impose..."

"Really sure."

Adrien lifted his hand and fumbled a moment, but then managed to tuck her hair behind her ear, palm brushing her cheek. The back of his hand was still bruised from the IV.

"I'm not going anywhere," he added, settling with a warm sigh.

If he tried, she'd feel it... and truthfully, with her there, he didn't feel inclined to get up again.

Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she allowed herself a moment to breathe as Adrien tucked a few stray strands of her hair behind her ear. Being able to see him was one thing. But being this close - close enough to hear and feel his breathing, to be able to reach out and touch him and know he was there...

It brought her peace.

"...wake me up if you need anything. Promise, okay...?"

Her voice had a low, slightly detached quality to it that indicated she was moments away from drifting off.

His response was a mumble, half-asleep already and barely understandable. His thumb ran lightly across Marinette's cheek, and his eyes were already mostly closed. On the edge between sleep and waking, it seemed that the memories came bubbling to the surface more easily.

It was also the place Chat Noir was most likely to peek through, in the twilight of consciousness.

"Cat's honor."

There was something about the way he said it that left Marinette more at ease than she'd been in a long while.

"...goodnight, chaton," She murmured. A moment later she was more or less silent, her breathing evening out as sleep overtook her. She didn't stop to think that someone might find them like this; it was just a nap, wasn't it? She would be sure to wake up before him an set things to right.

But the slumber she fell into was deep and restful, and curled up at Adrien's side, she might actually sleep through the night for the first time since the incident.

It said something about how tired he was that Adrien never questioned the nickname. Marinette fell into a deep sleep in his arms, and Adrien slid into a doze, coming in and out of it, to be eventually, slowly awakened by the pins and needles in his arm. It was falling asleep, but he didn't want to move it.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, watching the blurry room.

On his lap, on top of the covers, a small violet something was moving, wings waving hypnotically back and forth. Strangely at peace, Adrien watched it, blinking to clear his vision.

It was larger than a normal butterfly, and it even... appeared to have a face.

For some reason, this didn't alarm him. It was odd, but he felt half in a dream in the first place, helped along by the numbness in his arm, the way his injuries played with how conscious he was at any given point.

They stared at each other, him and the creature, until he reached out with inaccurate, leaden fingers. Not grabbing, just... to touch. The tiny being watched him with wide, unreadable eyes.

Suddenly, it flinched back, and Adrien heard footsteps outside the door. It flew open with a shattering bang of sound, and Adrien crashed into the waking world.

Marinette didn't dream.

After the nightmare she'd had the last time she tried sleeping, it was something of a relief to be blissfully oblivious to the world around her for a few hours. She didn't know that Nooroo was watching them - well, watching Adrien, mostly - and she didn't know that Adrien's arm was falling asleep (though she would feel terrible about it when she found out). She didn't hear the footsteps approaching the room.

In fact, it was only the door flying open that actually drew her back into consciousness, at which point it was far too late to leap out of the bed before anyone noticed she was actually there.

"Who's there?!"

She sat up with a start, though, eyes wide, slightly disoriented from being so suddenly pulled out slumber. Her first instinct was to throw out an arm over Adrien protectively, shielding him as she focused her attention on whoever was entering the room.

If it was a threat, then-

But no. There were no threats to Adrien in this house, not really. The only threat here would be to their collective dignity once they were discovered napping together in a hospital bed, honestly.

Of all the things Chloé Bourgeois was expecting to see when she came to see how Adrien was doing - because the press had more or less been kept at bay for now, so there weren't a lot of details, which meant her imagination had sort of run away with itself - Marinette Dupain-Cheng asleep in his hospital bed with him was not one of them.

There was a long, tense moment when she simply stared at the two of them, her gaze darting from Adrien's face to Marinette's and back again. Then she sucked in a breath.

A second later, she screamed. Admittedly, it wasn't the most mature reaction.

"What the hell is going on here?! You! Out of his bed! Get out of his bed right now!"

At first, Adrien couldn't see anything past Marinette. His head was still reeling, and he was a second or two behind everyone else as it was, when it came to putting things together.

It made a lot more sense when he heard the scream.

Well, he whispered to himself in the back of his mind, there's something familiar.

Unfortunately, the pitch of the sudden loud noise left him with a raging headache, and he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose with a groan. A moment later, pins and needles raged into his new-freed arm, and Adrien prepared to have a very bad time.

"... hey, Chloé," he murmured, trying to sound casual.

He failed. Mightily.

Marinette started to get out of the bed, if only to quiet her shrieking, but it evidently wasn't fast enough for Chloé - because a moment later she reached over, grabbed the other girl by the arm, and pulled.

With a yelp, she went sprawling on the ground. Chloé stepped over her daintily and settled herself in the chair at Adrien's bedside, reaching for his hand and softening her features into a look of concern.

"Oh, Adrien," She breathed, looking for all the world like she hadn't just steamrolled his friend, "I was so worried when I heard you were hurt. How are you feeling?"

On the ground, Marinette fumed. Chloé ignored her.

Adrien happened to have been looking down at that precise moment, trying to pinch away the beginnings of a really brutal headache, and when he looked up, Marinette was disappearing from the bedside and getting really chummy with the floor.

"Did you just-"

It was all he could get out before Chloé had captured his hand, the one with all the pins and needles in it. Her touch ached, and Adrien winced before he could help it, reaching up a hand to point awkwardly.

"... did you just throw-"

He was pretty sure she had, but... head injury.

Edited 2016-05-10 06:31 (UTC)

"What? No. She fell on her own."

It was a brazen lie, but to someone who actually remembered Marinette, it wouldn't be completely unbelievable. Little did Chloé know, Adrien didn't actually remember her.

On the ground, Marinette mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "Seven years of this crap" and pushed herself up onto her elbows, turning to look over her shoulder and shoot Chloé a glare.

That, too, went ignored. The blonde's focus was on Adrien.

"Is there anything I can get you? Water? An aspirin? Some food?" It wasn't every day that she lowered herself to fetch things for people, but Adrien was special, and she would rather do it herself than let a hussy who crawled into hospital beds do it.

"Is she okay?" Adrien asked, feeling confident that he wasn't the one acting like a brain-damaged person here.

Then again, he'd never really seen -- in his memory -- Chloé hate someone. He'd seen her in bully mode, sure, but never to the extent she was assuming for Marinette.

Adrien reached out and put a hand on Chloé's shoulder, attempting to move her aside so he could check on his friend.

... he didn't think that one through.

"Are you okay?"

"She's fine. She was just leaving, weren't you, Marinette?"

The look Chloé shot the other girl was one of pure loathing, and she dug her heels in to keep herself standing when Adrien tried to move her out of the way. Yeah, no, that wasn't happening. He was still on a cocktail of painkillers; she was in perfect health.

"No, actually," Marinette retorted. "I'm staying right where I am."

"On the ground? Well, that works for you."

"...ugh." Marinette got to her feet and tried to move back to Adrien's bedside, but Chloé threw out an arm and pushed her back.

"No you don't. I've got half a mind to call his father in here and have you thrown out."

"...yeah, good luck with that."

"Chloé-"

Were they fighting?

Adrien's frown only deepened as they went back and forth. He couldn't understand what was happening, or why, or why Chloé was acting like Marinette had done something wrong, but he didn't like being ignored.

"Marinette-"

They kept talking over him, or at least Chloé did, and there was only so much of this he could take. His headache was intensifying to a fever pitch, making him snappy and irritable, and the frustration finally burst out of him.

"Chloé!"

"Hmm?"

Marinette had the good grace to look chagrined, at least, but Chloé was completely unabashed. She turned her back on Marinette and put her focus back on him entirely, pretending for a moment that the other girl simply did not exist.

"What is it, Adrien?" She asked, all smiles and cloying sweetness, and behind her, Marinette rolled her eyes and made a gagging noise.

Adrien cleared his throat, lifting a hand to cover his mouth, mind racing.

Mostly he'd just been trying to get them to stop whatever was going on between them. His eyes went to Marinette, behind her, and he fought not to react. Apparently they knew each other really well.

"Could I have a glass of water please?"

"Of course you can!"

She spun on her heel to go and fetch it, but paused right next to Marinette to hiss "And you better be gone by the time I get back," before sashaying right on out of the room.

Stubbornly, Marinette sat down in the chair at Adrien's bedside and rubbed at her temples.

"...sorry about that," She mumbled.

Adrien half expected her to turn around and order Marinette to do it, so he breathed a sigh of relief when his old friend turned away, hissing her very audible threat. As soon as the door clicked shut, Adrien moved closer to the edge of the bed.

"Sounds like you two know each other."

That was one more tactful way of putting it.

"We were in the same class from the time I was eleven until we graduated from lycée," Marinette sighed, taking her cue from him and at least trying to be tactful instead of just muttering Dunno if you've noticed, but your friend is kind of a bitch or something along those lines. "She's never liked me all that much."

Honestly, the feeling was pretty much mutual.

"I'm not even really sure what started it anymore."

But they were both far too stubborn to just let bygones be bygones and let it go.

"Can't imagine why."

Later, it would be clear exactly why, and Adrien would kick himself for never noticing. For now, he shifted a bit awkwardly, squinting at the hallway. They wouldn't have much time before she came back.

"I wonder how she got in. How did she find out I was hurt?"

The look Marinette shot him was slightly incredulous. Then again, he did have amnesia; she had to make some allowances for being oblivious here...

Her brows furrowed at his question.

"...you were in the hospital for maybe a day. The police did talk to your father and me..." She hated to say it, but... "A reporter probably caught wind of it somehow. People are interested in your family, you know?"

As for how Chloé had managed to get in -

"She probably just walked up to the gate and didn't take no for an answer, though."

Adrien sank down into himself a little more at the mention of the media. It was nothing he didn't expect, but they had...

"Vultures," he sighed, reaching up to rub at his forehead. His head was pounding. Still... if no one had told Chloé he was hurt, and she'd had to find out through the media, she must have been worried for him. Worried enough to come over here and see that he was all right for himself. He could understand her anger at finding Marinette here -- Marinette, who apparently knew all about the situation, had access to him, while she was left out of the loop.

Chloé thrived on attention, was easily jealous. If he liked Marinette, it was no wonder Chloé hated her.

It was sad to say, but... he knew his friend.

"... she was probably worried. I'm sorry, I know how she can get. But we might need a few minutes."

Marinette would be more inclined to make disparaging remarks about reporters in general if Alya hadn't been on track to becoming one herself. As it was, she had some very strongly-worded descriptions of specific reporters, but...

"My roommate once said that only the worst reporters focus on stuff like this - because they aren't good enough to capture the public's interest with anything short of a tragedy," She sighed. "I'm pretty sure she's right."

And that was putting it diplomatically.

"...no, I know she was worried about you. No probably about it." Chloé was selfish, but even Marinette had to admit that she cared about Adrien. She just had a really funny way of showing it sometimes. "I'll step outside once she gets back - take as much time as you need. She's your friend, after all."

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