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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"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."

"Your roommate sounds like she gets it."

As much as Marinette and Chloé clearly disliked each other, it was almost a surprise to see how well Marinette understood. He thought she might have been at least a little bit hurt by being asked to step back.

Adrien's heart gave a twinge, and he smiled, small and grateful.

She'll understand, a voice said in the back of his mind, one that sounded far too much like Marinette's to make sense, but he couldn't decide on whether it was a memory or not. He'd just have to take it as it came.

Reaching up on impulse, Adrien grasped Marinette's hand and squeezed. He couldn't hug her, but at least they had this.

"Thank you."

"She always does," Marinette said with a shrug and a small smile. "Sometime, when you're feeling better, I'll reintroduce you to her."

As she recalled, Adrien and Alya had been friendly with each other too. His social circle really had expanded from what he could remember right now. ...she'd have to make sure Nino came by at some point as well, when he was up to having visitors that weren't forcing themselves in.

...and speaking of Chloé...

She squeezed Adrien's hand back. "You're welcome," came her reply, soft and gentle, but footsteps echoed from the hallway and she glanced at the door before pulling her hand free of his grasp. "I should get going, though."

Seeing them hand-in-hand would only set his friend off all over again. She didn't really want to leave his side, but she knew she had to, and so she headed for the door to slip out into the hall.

Chloé entered through the door in almost the same moment, constraining herself to just shooting Marinette an aggravated look instead of yelling at her, since she was on her way out. Once the door shut behind her, she made her way to Adrien's side and took a seat, holding the glass of water out to him.

"Here you are, drink up," She cooed. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you awake. I guess your doctors know what they're doing after all."

She'd been on the verge of having her father call in leading specialists from other countries. Gabriel Agreste had undoubtedly snatched up the best in Paris, but she wanted to make sure he had the best in the world.

... more things he didn't know. More people. It was terrifying, in a vague, otherworldly sort of way, reminded him of his swiss cheese memories and the way he couldn't trust his own head. He didn't want to feel like this. The best he could do was try.

Chloé, in her own way, was a relief. He remembered her. They had a history he could recall. He knew how she would act. She was familiar.

He desperately needed the familiar.

Adrien smiled for Marinette again as she left, letting her go with a soft "see you soon". He edged himself more into a sitting position to see Chloé, leaning back against the pillows and accepting the drink with a grateful sigh.

"Thank you. ... and yeah, I guess they do. To tell the truth, I don't know how bad it was."

... and Marinette hadn't given him any details. What did Chloé know?

"...it was awful."

Predictably, she'd bullied and wheedled her way into seeing the records of his hospital stay. So it was a teeny, tiny bit of an invasion of privacy, but André Bourgeois had quite a bit of political clout in Paris, all things considered, and using his name was a surefire way for her to get what she was after.

She'd seen his x-rays. She'd seen how badly he'd been hurt when he came in. She'd seen, written clear as day, that his chances of recovery had been low, and his chances of waking up had been even lower.

It had scared the shit out of her. That fear was written all over her face now, and she reached for his hand, squeezing his fingers a little too tightly. "I forbid you to go and die on me. Don't you dare get yourself hurt again, Adrien."

The squeeze hurt, but he swallowed it back before it could show on his face, tucking it carefully away so he could curl his fingers back around hers. (His knuckles were bruised, why-?)

"I'm not planning to."

Adrien smiled, but underneath, this scared him. He'd never seen Chloé so shaken up.

It probably should have bothered him that his first instinct was to pry.

"... how much did you find out?"

"Enough," She grumbled, the fear on her face being replaced by anger as she remembered exactly what she had found out, "to know that you getting hurt was all that girl's fault, and I'm not just saying that because I don't like her. Seriously, if your father doesn't kick her out, be careful around her."

Not enough to know Marinette was Ladybug and he was Chat Noir, though.

"The doctor's notes said that if- when you woke up, you were likely to have some memory problems, but of course you remembered me because I'm your best friend," Chloé said with a shrug, completely ignoring Nino's existence. Sorry, Nino. "What blanks do you need filled in?"

What blanks was he ready to have filled in?

Adrien's head jerked up, eyes widening.

Marinette had told him very little about the accident, his father less than nothing. She clearly felt guilty, but he hadn't believed it was her fault.

So what did Chloé know that was so damning?

"What are you talking about, her fault?" he asked carefully. He knew to take his friend with a grain of salt, but this was the best lead he'd had so far.

...hah. She knew Marinette hadn't told him everything. And the girl still had the audacity to crawl into bed with him...?

Forget waiting for Gabriel to do it, she'd throw her out herself.

"Well obviously it wasn't your fault," She said with a roll of her eyes. "Your father found the two of you in a part of the city that none of your classes or appointments or anything would take you to. She, on the other hand, had clients down there."

Chloé had done more than her fair share of sleuthing when she found out Marinette had also been involved in whatever incident had gotten Adrien injured.

"Not to mention, you two barely saw each other after starting university, and then suddenly the day you do hang out, you both get attacked? Nobody was out to get you before that night. Obviously she had something to do with it."

... a lot of things weren't adding up at all.

Adrien's first instinct was to protest that Chloé was massively wrong. He and Marinette were clearly close. She knew him, and he knew her. Even his father trusted her to be alone with him, and to call Gabriel overprotective was a massive understatement.

She had to be wrong. She had to be.

"... clients?" he asked, groping for answers, confused. "What do you mean?"

"She's been doing commissions," Chloé explained with a wave of her hand. "Supposedly, it's how she's paying her tuition at ESMOD, but nobody's going to pay that much for clothing from some no-name design student."

Never mind the fact that Chloé had been surreptitiously commissioning outfits from her for the better part of the last six months, ever since she'd found out the girl was offering commissions.

"There's got to be more to it. My guess is you got caught up in some kind of a deal gone wrong."

ESMOD?

And she was missing classes to take care of him?

Adrien squeezed the blankets, took another gulp of water, and tried not to feel the slowly growing weight in his stomach. No wonder his father was giving her projects. It wasn't just to keep her busy. She clearly had talent.

He wished he could refute her accusations, but he didn't know what had happened. It could have been anything at this point, and his already-destroyed memories didn't know how to sync with this information.

"There's no way," he insisted after a moment, frowning. "Even that wouldn't make it her fault."

"If she's been up to something shady and you got caught in the crossfire because of it, it's definitely her fault!"

Chloé's voice was firm. Maybe if she'd been here from the start, she wouldn't be so set in her opinion, but she'd had to find out about this from the tabloids, and then she'd had to look into things on her own. She hadn't spoken to Gabriel or Adrien; she could only draw her conclusions from the limited amount of information that she had.

"And for that matter, why were you two even together that night? You don't go to ESMOD, and if you need clothes, you can get them from your father. There's something weird going on and I know she knows more than she's telling. You can't trust her, Adrien."

Hell, for all Adrien knew, he was the one up to something shady.

"Maybe I was sneaking out," he spit out, defending Marinette without realizing it, then pushing on ahead as he did. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't.

"The tabloids are always wrong, you know that. It could have been fan. It could have been a kidnapper. Maybe we were mugged."

And despite himself, he was getting angry. The more he spoke, the more he knew he was right, and he was the type of guy who went with his gut.

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