...um.
kinda sequel to Grumpy Cat, at least, a possible what if set up I've always kinda wanted to do.
"I don't want them."
"But I don't want to leave you!"
"There's a... there will be a..." There was a shaky breath, "maybe there should be a, a new-"
"No! This is the worst time for me to leave! To leave you! Leave you both!"
"...This is the worst time for you to stay."
It was quiet for a moment. "Take off the earrings," came the shy reply, "if I'm gone, then I'll leave. But only if I'm gone."
In his short run as Chat Noir, Adrien's gotten quite a mixed reaction from people.
Some have been genuinely happy to see him.
And some have been confused and unsure.
And he could get and understand why. Out of the two heroes, Chat Noir wasn't affectionately known. From what he could recall of the previous Chat, he didn't remember him being a very friendly cat. Even Plagg backed the claim, confirming that the Chat before him didn't care much for others. He only ever cared for two.
The little god still had yet to tell him which those two were, though Adrien was sure that one of them was Ladybug.
...Ladybug.
His partner.
A partner he has yet to meet.
A partner that hasn't been seen in nearly three years.
Same as the previous Chat.
It left Adrien wondering if something happened to them both. All he had on his predecessor was that he "couldn't do it anymore". And then Plagg comments that he may even get a new Ladybug partner to work with him.
That both the previous Ladybug and Chat Noir were likely fully retired.
There was a curious, pestering question of why?
And Plagg, little imp, wouldn't breath a word. All he said was, "Just do focus on your job. Worry about Ladybug when they come."
And so he did.
He saved and helped as best he could, and tried to improve the view of Chat Noir. He was there to help. He could be trusted. No one should be afraid to approach him. He wasn't going to hiss or give anyone an evil eye for approaching him.
He was a hero.
He was here to help.
And his hard working was paying off. There were still mixed views, but they were now associating Chat Noir as a friendly face, someone they could trust and turn to.
So when the first ever akuma appeared in almost four years and attacked an elementary school, Adrien was in a slight, stressed panic.
He had no Ladybug at his side, and children to save.
He was on his own.
The akuma was wolf based, and called himself Howler. His largest goal was scaring shit out of little kids.
Chat didn't have to try hard to keep the beast's attention, the wolf charged him in a maddening fury; Chat took the opportunity to struggle with him while teachers rushed kids out.
The school was near empty when Chat found her.
Howler had tossed him across the room and while he slid to a stop, he turned on a whim to see light silver eyes staring back at him.
Chat blinked.
A remaining, hidden dark haired girl with light freckles on her nose stared back, wide eyed.
They missed a kid.
They missed a kid.
"Great," he muttered. As Howler came charging, Chat reached for her and hauled the little child out from under the desk and tore off deeper into the school; not stopping till he had lost Howler in the maze of halls.
Breathing a little hard, he carefully held the little girl out to meet her wide eyes. He flashed her a big, reassuring smile. "That was pretty close, huh Kitten?"
As said before, Adrien's come across quite a mix of reactions as Chat.
He did not expect to see the dark pout on the little girl's face as she glared up at him.
Chat blinked down at her, surprised.
Before he could ask, she angrily muttered, "You'we not my Minpa."
He stared at her, dumbly repeating, "Minpa?"
Both jumped and squealed when Howler burst in, snarling savagely at the two and glaring at them with wild eyes. Adrien held the struggling girl close, baring his teeth and hissing back at the overgrown mutt, daring him to come near.
Howler's lips seem to curl up into a twisted smile, the beast rearing up, ready to lash at them both; only to yelp and jerk around, facing his attacker from behind.
Adrien blinked in surprise to see a dark haired woman standing behind the beast, glaring up at him fearlessly as she held a metal bar in hand. He heard her softly growl, "You dare attack her."
"Maman!" the child cried, wiggling in his arms.
Chat held tightly to her, shouting for the woman to get away. Only she wouldn't listen. She faced Howler fearlessly as the akuma reared, growling deeply. Chat was just about to charge when Howler dove. Chat and the girl cried out.
The woman dodged and slammed the bar hard on the akuma's nose.
Howler jerked back with yelp, paws coming to rest on his nose.
She slammed the end of the pole into his stomach, jerking the akuma into a hunch. Grabbing the watch on his brown, furry wrist, she ripped it away and kicked his feet out from under him. She tore around the akuma, dropped the bar, and grabbed the shocked cat's wrist, dragging him and her daughter away from the whimpering akuma.
She didn't stop till they were far away, breathing a little hard from the near encounter. She turned to them, meeting Chat's gaping gaze. She quickly looked away from him and instead to her squirming girl. "You ok?" she asked, reaching for the dark haired child.
"Maman," was all she got in return, a whisper of sweet relief.
The two nuzzled and pressed against each other, holding the other tightly. Without looking at him, she bid, "Thank you."
He offered a stiff smile, still shocked at the feat she just pulled. "N-No problem."
She gave him a small smile, while the girl twisted in her arms and shot him a dark look.
The mother broke it by pressing a kiss to the girl's brow. "I'm sure Ladybug will be here soon," she mumbled, before turning and leaving the confused cat.
Shaking his head, he rushed back to Howler, ready to occupy him till the red heroine did come. But just as he had arrived, Howler was covered in black bubbles, dispersing to reveal a dazed, tired teacher.
Adrien stiffened.
Ladybug had cleansed the akuma.
But she didn't come.
Not where he was.
That night, tired, confused, wary, and wishful; when he got home he asked Plagg, "What's a Minpa?"
The kwami didn't answer him. He just gave a small start, then slowly chewed on his cheese.
"Plagg," Adrien pleaded.
Quietly, sparing him a glance, Plagg clarified, "It's a term of endearment."
Adrien wasn't able to get anything else out of the kwami.
She was being fussy again.
Fussy and loud and difficult.
It seemed nothing was going to calm her down, it seemed like she was going to howl and cry forever on.
They had tried everything.
She didn't want to eat.
She would not be soothed or rocked, she would not listen to tired, impatient coos or desperate lullabies.
"Please, please sleep," the mother whispered, playing with the thin black strands of hair on the infants head.
He bounced, scolding her with no real bite, "We don't make such fusses in our family." Then, a moment of consideration, he held her up and light boops his nose against hers.
It starts the baby quiet for a moment, and he allows a rare, pleased smile.
Only for her pink face to twist up before she wails out once more, dragging an exhausted sigh from him.
She fell quiet when a creature of the night came for her.
He picked her up with sharp, deadly claws and stared down at her with inhuman eyes.
She stared up at him, mystified.
With a loud giggle, she reached for his head, silver eyes locked on the cat ears on his head.
He held her up, letting the child grab those ears, let her tug and twist them in gleeful wonder. He didn't even mind when she pulled one close and started to suck and gnaw on a ear.
The creature of night just nuzzled her stomach, purring and making her squirm and giggle. His purr grew in volume as a smaller body came to his side and leaded against him. Exhausted, his partner lightly teases, "I guess we know whose going to be her favorite."
With a slight grin, he mumbles against the soft belly of the child, "Cats are classy, My Queen."
"You got his hair," Marinette uttered once, curling her finger through the dark coarse hair. "It's a little rough, and difficult." Marinette smiled a bit tightly. "You're probably going to hate working with it when you're older."
"Don't cawe," Emma utters, twisting and playing with the Chat Noir doll Marinette gave her. "I like my hair."
Marinette just chuckled, tugging her hair and weaving it into a sloppy bun. Emma didn't make a fuss, sitting still and letting her Maman weave the strands. Squinting down at the doll, Emma asked, "Did... did that cat steal from Minpa?" Emma asked.
Marinette froze at the question. "What?" she asked.
Emma leaned back, staring up at her mother. "Did he steal from Minpa? Cause Minpa should be the only cat."
Licking her lips, Marinette warily said, "He... he didn't steal from Minpa. This Chat Noir, he..."
"He's here to help," Tikki voices, floating close and offering a small smile to the curious girl. "Ladybug shouldn't fight alone, she can be quite capable, but she shouldn't fight alone. There's a new Chat Noir because she needs help, someone to watch her back and protect her."
Narrowing her silver eyes, Emma pressed, "So, he's not going to replace Minpa?"
"He's here to help," Marinette repeated, leaning over and lightly booping her nose to Emma's brow, earning a giggle from the girl. "Don't you worry about him." Grinning against her cheek, the tired mother blew a loud raspberry against her daughter's cheek, earning a squeal from her. As Emma scrambled away, Marinette lazily pursued, calling out, "You should worry about me!"
"No!" Emma cried, giggling as she scrambled away.
Marinette let her get ahead, let her get a chance to hide before she followed.
Tikki gave her a knowing, patient stare.
Marinette met it weakly before looking away. "I'll try," she said softly, before getting up to try and find her daughter.
She will try.
Try and connect with this new Chat.
It won't be easy though.
"You need a break from work."
Her tone was clipped and firm, the worry filling her bringing out the frustrated bite behind them.
It did not help.
"I'm fine," came his sharp tone back, his icy eyes locked on his laptop screen, the keyboard chirping beneath his busy fingers.
"You're not fine," she stressed. "Something's up. You're barely eating, you can't sleep, you're exhauste-"
"I'm just stressed," he grounds out. "There's a lot that needs to get done. Don't have time for-"
"Felix."
"...I'll eat soon."
"You will?"
He shoots her a look over the rim of his laptop.
"Seems like you're conveniently forgetting lately."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated. "I don't feel like eating. And I'm not that tired. And there's a lot of work that needs-"
"Have you looked in a mirror lately?"
He shoots her a dark look.
She glares back, miffed.
The ring of a cell breaks the fuming glares, and Marinette growls as her husband turns away, answering the call swiftly. She stomped out of the room as he greeted the person on the cell.
Transforming into Ladybug was like riding a bike. The suit settled over like like a blanket, warm and welcoming, and happy to wrap around her again.
After not transforming for so long, she guessed Tikki was relieved that she was up enough to transform.
She was healing.
She was getting better.
Doing better.
Marinette though, she wasn't sure... her heart still ached. She was still so mentally exhausted. She could barely draw or design anything. Didn't have the will to. And ideas, they came, and then left her like frightened birds.
Tikki did reassure and persist that she was doing better.
That both her and Emma were doing better.
She really had to wonder...
"When's Minpa coming back home?"
"...He's, he's not coming back ho-home, Em..."
"Why not?"
She sucked in a sharp, shaky breath, quickly grabbed the rim of a building, steadying herself.
It was ok.
She got this.
She could... she could do this.
He would... he would find it utterly ridiculous that she had hidden away for so long. That she had done nothing while he was gone.
He'd be disappointed.
He was a firm believer that a job had to be done no matter what.
Just...
"Ladybug?"
She jerked at the unfamiliar voice, turning to see Chat Noir... the new Chat Noir coming her way cautiously, green eyes locked on her form.
The costume was so similar to his, the changes small and few. The belted tail was smaller and shorter, the ears were smaller, the bell was new, she didn't see pink pads decorating his fingertips. It, it was like it was his own costume now, a new take on Chat Noir, one that fit him better.
It was too much.
"I," she choked out, scrambling back.
Chat perked, reaching for her. "L-Ladybug?"
"I'm sorry," she rushed out, turning sharply and rushing away.
It, even after three years of not seeing Chat Noir in person, it was too much.
He wasn't her Chat.
"Minpa is not a word," he lightly scolds, pursing his lips when he accidentally pressed down too hard with his colored pencil. Now there was a darker shade of color in the mass.
"Uh huh," the two year old chirped, uncaring if Minpa was a word or not.
He was Minpa whether he liked it or not.
Glancing down at her drawing, her father grimaced, tapping the page. "Emma, Princess, you're supposed to color in the lines. That's why they're there."
"Don't cawe."
"Emma." It was going to drive him batty.
Pursing her lips and sticking her nose in the air much like she's seen her father do, Emma quotes confidently, "Scwew it!"
He stared down at is daughter, unimpressed.
Emma giggled, gleeful that she was able to quote her godmother so well.
He'll have to apologize to his queen, but he was really starting to think that Alya Cesaire was an unideal role model for Emma.
The second time he met her, it was in another attack.
Somehow she had gotten into an akuma's clutches.
But instead of screaming out in fear, the little dark haired girl with silver eyes was angrily kicking at the akuma's face, snarling words in Chinese Chat knows a child shouldn't know.
He didn't think twice about kicking that akuma away as he plucked the child from her grasp.
In one great leap, Chat was safely on the roof of Paris, the girl squirming in his arms.
"You got to be careful!" Chat scolds, carefully shifting his hold to meet her watering silver eyes.
Her face pinched up angrily as she sniffed. "You'we not my Minpa," she muttered again, giving a painful squeeze to his wrist.
He frowned down at the bitter child, ears falling flat on his head. "Who is Minpa?" he asked, gently holding her out when she squirmed again, avoiding her little feet.
"Papa!" the girl snarled, finally breaking and crying in his arms. "Papa! Papa! Papa!"
Chat stiffened, wide eyed as the child through a tantrum in his claws, crying and flailing and just scrambling the words of Minpa and Papa and I want and wrong...
Chat stiffly realized who she was, who Minpa likely was.
This was Chat Noir's daughter.
The previous Chat Noir.
Adrien had his daughter.
And he wasn't her father.
He wasn't the right Chat.
That's why she was so upset.
An uncomfortable bubble started to fester in Chat's chest as he drew the flailing girl closer, crouching down and shushing her, rocking back and forth and not minding the kicks and smacks she threw against him as she cried.
What had happened to the previous Chat Noir?
By the time the little girl calmed down, exhausted, a swarm of ladybugs rushed through the air, fixing all damages.
Chat turned to the red figure in the distance, moving his body so she could see the child, her child, sitting in his lap.
When she came, Chat handed the exhausted girl to her, not breathing a word.
Ladybug would not meet his curious and worried eyes.
She would not look at him at all.
She left and Chat fought off the urge to pursue, to pull her close in a comforting hug.
He was the wrong Chat.
He wasn't their Chat.
"You don't want anything?" Tom asked, surprised.
"I'm not hungry," Felix stated, running a hand over his face.
Emma hummed a song, playing with the Chat Noir doll and oblivious to the grim talk above. Felix doubted the two year could even understand. But his father-in-law wasn't going to allow the chance. Anytime she looked up, curiosity shinning her eyes, Tom swooped in, pressing his prickly mustache to her and earning a loud squeal from the child.
"You're not torturing my dear granddaughter, are you Tom?" Sabine called from the kitchen.
"No!" Tom called, then blew a raspberry against Emma's ear.
With a squealing giggle, the girl hopped off and fled to the kitchen, shouting, "Granmana! Granmana!"
Felix stared after her, feeling very tired.
Tom's smile fell as he looked to his son-in-law. "She's very scared," he murmured.
"I know."
"Are you going to get checked?"
"...I am."
Tom stared at him, quiet. He reached out and gently clasped Felix's knees. "Let us know if you need anything." He followed Emma to the kitchen, leaving the blond alone in the den. On the back of his neck, Plagg shifted, slight vibrations coming out of the small god.
Felix made no comment on the purr, just focusing on the sensation tickling over his skin, and trying not to think about the visit he was having tomorrow.
He was scared.
He was scared of what he was going to hear.
Scared of the future.
Of what it could mean.
It wasn't a simple flu.
It couldn't be.
It...
"Paaaaaaa!" Emma cried, crashing onto his lap and startling the cat. He simply blinked down at her as she crawled up, wincing only a little when she shoved at him hard. Set in his lap, she gave him a big grin before pressing against his chest, rubbing her nose on him with an excited Eskimo kiss. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her a little harder against him and just curling around her small frame.
A weak purr broke out of his chest and he could feel Emma smile.
He always purred for them.
To make them happy.
To lift their spirits.
To feel comforted and loved.
He always purred for them.
For the first time in a long time, he purred for himself.
"You really need to talk to Ladybug," Plagg declared.
Adrien didn't respond, scrolling through the information the web had on his predecessor.
There wasn't much.
Barely anything on him.
Only his devotion to Ladybug and his distaste for interacting with others.
She had given no explanation why her Chat disappeared.
She had disappeared not long after him.
The indications had Adrien's heart aching.
"You need to talk to Ladybug," Plagg repeats.
When Adrien still didn't respond, the kwami threw a bit of cheese at the back of his head.
"She won't talk to me," Adrien bit out, not tearing his eyes away from the screen.
There was the previous Chat Noir before him, arms crossed, lips pursed in agitation.
Despite the sourness of his expression, he didn't seem annoyed with his smaller partner leaning against his frame as she talked to the reporters, a light smile on her lips.
Adrien peered at him, contemplative.
He was taller than Adrien.
His near platinum hair was longer as well.
He didn't have a bell on his costume.
He had a silver belt instead, with a cat head shaped belt buckle.
And his eyes were different as well.
They weren't all green like Adrien's. They were entirely silver, with a slight hue of pale blue in them.
That's what the girl got from him.
His eyes. His slanted silver eyes.
And his scowl.
Everything else seemed to be from her mother.
"She will," Plagg said simply, tugging at his whisker. "She's just being stubborn and dumb."
"She lost her Chat. The father of her child. Her daughter, Plagg. I..." He wouldn't be up to working with a new Ladybug if he was in her situation. He could just imagine how much it hurts to see a different Chat.
Plagg gave an agitated growl. "A miraculous wielder can't let their emotions get the best of them. If she's going to be Ladybug, she's going to have to work with you."
Adrien frowned at the little god's lack of empathy, turning to scowl at him.
Plagg glared back, narrowing his green eyes.
Adrien looked away. "You miss him too, don't you?" he asked.
The kwami didn't answer. He just turned away and curled up. Adrien sighed. Then asked, "Why is she still Ladybug?"
"I don't know," Plagg snapped. "Talk to her. I don't know what goes through her head. Even after a near decade." The kwami grumbled some more before zipping away, leaving Adrien alone with his computer.
Felix stared down at the silver ring resting in his palm. It was warm and soothing against his clammy skin. He didn't want to let it go. He felt that if he did...
Plagg sat patiently on the bed, staring at him with expectant eyes.
Licking his lips, Felix quietly asked, "What's it like?" He spared a fast glance to the little black god, then looked away.
He wasn't nervous.
He... he wasn't scared.
He, he was just getting prepared.
He was a D'Noire.
He liked knowing what he was getting into. Liked to be ready.
"I don't know," Plagg grumbled, tugging at his whiskers and looking away. "That's something I can never answer."
"You're over five thousand years old," Felix grumbled, rubbing his thumb over the silver band. He should know.
"I never died."
"We've died before."
"You've died," Plagg corrects "You have died and faded away a few times. I never died though." He shoots the thin blond a look. "You'd know what it's like better than me."
"I don't remember," Felix grumbles, slumping back in his bed. The Miraculous Cure fixed all damage. Akuma damage. It reversed it. It readjusted memories. He couldn't remember any of the times he died. Sometimes he had to wonder if he did even die before.
Plagg keeps quiet, eyeing him as he shifts awkwardly and contemplates his chosen. Plagg whispers, "I hear it's like falling asleep."
Felix glances down at him.
Plagg peers back.
"How comforting from an immortal."
Plagg hisses, his ears falling back on his head while his tail gives an agitated twitch.
Felix jabs his hand near the little god, ordering, "Just take it already."
Plagg doesn't move, eyeing the ring.
"She's going to need Chat Noir. She can't work on her own."
He couldn't be Chat anymore.
Not like this.
Plagg takes the ring and the instant the metal was gone, Felix felt drained and cold, like a blanket had been ripped away from him and the life pulled from his bones. He almost asked for it back. Almost asked if he could just hold onto it till the end.
Felix drew his hand back and gripped the sheet of his bed tightly.
Plagg rubs the silver band, staring down at it with half lidded eyes. "You're one of the most difficult grumpiest cats I've ever had to work with."
Felix snorts and retorts, "You were a very annoying rat."
Plagg growled sharply, baring his fangs. "For the last time, I'm a cat Nitwit!"
"I still doubt that," Felix declares, turning away from him.
Plagg scoffs, and holds the ring close to his small body. After a few moments, he reassures, "We'll watch them."
Felix glanced down at him.
"The new Black Cat. I'll make sure he keeps an eye out for them both. We'll scratch anyone that tries to hurt them."
"I'll hold you to that," Felix warned. "I'll haunt you if anything happens to My Queen and Princess."
Plagg returned, "You'd be the worst ghost to be haunted by. You'd be so annoying." He floated up, drawing near the pale blond. He surprised him by rubbing against his cheek, a small purr coming off his frame. "Rest easy Nitwit."
Felix didn't reply. He just cupped that small black body against his cheek and leaned against the small frame, soaking in his presence.
Plagg didn't leave him when he fell asleep.
And was gone when he woke.
If he thought he had felt cold when he implored the kwami to take the ring, Felix felt chilled to the bone when he woke to find the kwami gone.
He felt frighteningly... mortal.
The pencil pecks restlessly at the page, making hushed tap, tap, tap sounds beneath her. The page stayed rebelliously blank, the idea that knocked on her brow was dancing out of her reach. Though Marinette's efforts of catching it were half-hearted at best. She felt lazy and slow, with no energy, no spark...
Her troublesome friends inspiration and creativity were still with her, lingering on her shoulders; but motivation had abandoned her.
Try as she might, she could not bring the thought to life.
"Keep frowning like that, you're going to give yourself wrinkles."
Marinette pursed her lips as she looked up, meeting Alya's playful gaze as the woman drew near, holding the dozing Emma securely against her.
"Thanks for picking her up," Marinette bid, taking her daughter.
"Anytime," Alya bid, seating herself across from Marinette. After a moment, she comments, "You still look pretty tired."
"I feel like I'm doing better," Marinette said, resting her head on Emma's soft hair, feeling it tickle and shift along her jaw.
"You are, but you still need to sleep."
"I am," Marinette persisted.
Humming, Alya glanced down the street, contemplative. "Ladybug's back. And there's a new Chat Noir."
Marinette paused. "I heard."
"...What do you think happened to the old one?"
"...Maybe he retired."
"You should draw."
"I don't feel like drawing."
"...I feel like watching you draw."
"Felix."
"I'm bored," he said gruffly, heavily leaning his head on her shoulder. "Bored and tired. Watching you draw is therapeutic."
She shifts against him, nervously tapping her fingers over this thin wrist. It was too thin. "Nothing comes," she confesses.
He simply sighs, and rubs his nose against her neck. She could feel the weak effort to purr, to soothe her; but he could scarcely keep the rumble up for long.
The fact put a spike in her heart.
Reaching up, Marinette threaded her fingers through his thin hair, feeling it easily tangle around her fingers, easily pulled away from his skull. She pressed against her scalp, soothing and massaging. Felix slumped heavily on her, his purr going mute as heavy hot breath brushed her bare arm.
Beside him, Marinette took a big, shuddering breath, and pressed her face against the unconscious man's forehead, longing for the days when he smelled like leather and books. She hated this smell. Hated where he was. Hated feeling his hair fall away from her touch, or how he could barely keep his eyes open.
How sometimes he didn't see her, even when she was there, reaching for him.
She hated this.
Marinette was barely aware of Tikki settling into her lap, running gentle, soft paws over her chosen's knuckles.
"I'm sorry for running."
Chat turned to her, blinking his big patient eyes. He offered her a small, welcoming smile. "I understand," he said.
Ladybug wouldn't meet his gaze, her eyes stayed locked on the city around them, not seeing it, or hearing the the bustle of the evening. Chat turned his gaze away from her, staring out as well, soaking in the evening lights, watching the crowds drift about in the streets.
"How is she?" he asked.
Ladybug glances at him, her red ribbons flipping about in the air.
"Your Kitten," he said.
Ladybug licks her lips, fidgeting slightly. "She, she's fine..."
"How old?"
"Three."
Chat chuckles, grinning. "She's very smart for her age."
She chuckles, tired, maybe a little amused? She sat down beside him, letting her feet hang. "He wanted her to be the smartest little girl in the world. Read to her all the time, fiction, nonfiction... Emma likes coming to me for bedtime stories."
"Does she have a favorite?" he asked.
"...She likes The Little Prince."
"I always liked the story of Rapunzel," Chat confessed. "I can relate to being stuck."
With a hum, Ladybug said, "Cinderella for me."
"Cinderella?"
"Stay persistent, keep up with your morals and hard work, it'll be worth it in the end. It's a tale I liked to cling too." Her smile was gone, her gaze hollow as she stared out.
Chat peered at her, tail twitching. Slowly, carefully, he drew near her.
When she didn't move away, he leaned over, nudging his cheek against her, ready to draw away if she needed him too.
She stiffened at the contact, eyes widening at the touch.
Chat was just about to draw away when Ladybug slumped towards him, breath shaky before wrapping her arms around him, burying her face into the crook of his neck. His arms came up, wrapping around her shoulders.
A strong, loud purr bubbled out of his chest.
"Are you going to get better soon?" Emma demanded, hugging the Chat Noir doll to her chest, pouting at Minpa, who was slumped heavily in the bed. He eyes her with half lidded eyes, frowning like he wasn't sure if she was there.
Emma didn't like it.
"You need to have more chicken noodle soup," she declared.
That's what people had when they were sick.
Minpa should have more of that.
Minpa blinks her, a weak hum coming out of him before his eyes fell closed and his head lolls to the side. Beside him, the steady beat of the monitor rang out, repetitive and annoying.
Emma hated the sound.
She hated being here.
She hated that Minpa was here.
Reaching out, she shook his shoulder, trying to wake him.
He would always wake for her.
No matter what time in the night, no matter what scared her, he would always wake and be there for her. Stay till she fell asleep.
There was no reason for him to not wake now.
"Come on Minpa," she scolds. "You've slept enough!"
He just continues to sleep, barely a twitch at her voice.
Licking her lips, Emma laid out the big guns. "If you wake and come back home, I'll let you read that boring book to me."
Still nothing.
"Minpa," she presses.
"Let him sleep Emma sweetie."
She turns to the little fairy, peeking up at her, her blue eyes sad, knowing things the child didn't. Just like every single adult she passed by these days.
Emma hated it.
She hated that sad knowing look in their eyes.
"He slept enough!" Emma declared.
"Oh sweetie," Tikki repeats, drawing near and rubbing against Emma's cheek. "You look tired," she said, "lay with him."
"I'm not tired!" she protests, her eyes starting to sting, her frustration with this building.
Tikki considers the human child before her, and offers her a smile. "How about you read to him then?" she offered. "He would be so proud to see you reading so well!"
...That wasn't too bad an idea. He may wake to hear her read!
Hopping off the bed, she went to the bag Maman left, searching through it for a book. Ah ha! Here's one! The Bridge to Terabithia! Minpa would wake to hear this! Scrambling back onto the bed, she snuggled up against him, moving his thin arm about so that it was loosely wrapped around her. Cracking it open, Emma struggled to work and read the words, just as Minpa taught her too.
She was three pages along when she heard a mumble.
"You?"
She looked up, meeting the sleep filled gaze of Minpa, gazing down at her with a furrowed brow.
Emma beams up at him. "I'm weading to you!" she exclaimed, waving the book to show him. He blinked at the object. So giddy and happy, she crawled up and kissed his nose, earning a surprised blink from the man. Resettling down against him, she told him, "I'm glad you woke Minpa!" She quickly continued reading aloud, believing that that was what roused him, that it would keep him awake.
Felix blinked down at the small girl, his head heavy and fogged. Slowly, he leaned over to her, curling around her, burying his nose into her hair.
She smelled like cookies and books.
He liked this smell.
Things were starting to ease as they were before.
Ladybug and Chat Noir were seeing racing along the Parisian roofs, patrolling, facing akumas together.
Ladybug was able to stand being with a new Chat Noir, meeting his gaze, not flinching back at the sight of him, recalling the first cat to shadow after her.
And Chat kept a respectful distance, never pushing her to open up to him, waiting for her to move towards him.
Normalcy came slow, but it was coming.
Ladybug was lingering, getting used to her partner.
And Chat was pleased, pleased to finally work with her, pleased to see that she was doing better.
Pleased when she opened up, sharing a small tidbit of doubt.
"I tried giving up being Ladybug."
He could see it.
He could understand it.
He probably wouldn't want to be Chat Noir anymore if he lost his love, and had a new Ladybug to work with.
"I really didn't think I'd be good for it," she continued. "Not anymore... but apparently, I, I still wanted my miraculous. I wanted to keep at being Ladybug."
He leaned over, resting his cheek on her shoulder. "I'm glad you wanted to stay," he mumbled out.
Slowly, her hand came up towards his head.
Chat made no move, letting her come to him.
Shy fingers tangled into his hair, drawing over till they brushed against the fake leather ears, making them twitch. Chat closed his eyes, purring as Ladybug played with his hair.
He woke to his hair being played with, the weak strands being weaved about by gentle hands, humming a soft tune as they were weaved into a braid.
"Tikki," he rasped.
"Felix," the sprite returned, somewhere on his head, shuffling about as she braided his hair.
"What are you doing?" he wondered, grimacing at how heavy his eyes were.
"Making you pretty," she said. "I've always wanted to put your hair in little braids."
He makes no reply, closing his eyes and laying still, just soaking into the kwami's touch, taking comfort in the relaxing feeling of his scalp getting pleasantly brushed, his hair being played with.
"Does," he rasped, wincing as his throat ached, "does it... does..."
"I do not know," she answered gently.
"...Plagg didn't either."
"I don't think it hurts," Tikki offered gentle, crawling over to press a kiss to his forehead. "I think it'll be like sleeping."
"...That's what Plagg said too."
He felt her smile against his forehead. "It's the best we can guess," the kwami said.
"Will... will you..."
Tikki floated down, meeting his tired silver eyes. "We remember each and every chosen we've had. We will remember you, so will Marinette, so will Emma."
"Emma," he repeats, blinking his eyes rapidly when they started to sting.
He wouldn't get to see her grown.
He would get to see her through the years.
He wouldn't get to age beside his queen, see her safe and happy...
Tikki offered no words of reassurance to the man as he took shaky, trembling breathes. She just nuzzled his cheek, offering her silent support.
Emma wouldn't meet her Maman's gaze when she sat down beside her, eyeing the overgrowing roses on her balcony garden. Undeterred by her daughter's cold shoulder, Marinette leaned over into her space, offering, "Those were his favorite flower." With a snort, she quotes, "Roses are classic."
Emma bit her lip, plucking the doll's cat ear.
"Chat's been asking for you," Maman puts out, "wondering how you're doing-"
"I don't want him," Emma said.
"He'll be sad to hear that," Marinette returned, resting her chin on her knees.
"I don't cawe."
Marinette didn't respond, tiredly staring out, letting her daughter fume.
Just like Felix.
Always had to brood a bit before he could talk, just quietly fume and rage till the damn melted away and his agitation bursts forth. Sometimes it could be hard to tell when he was upset since it could fester for so long.
"I won't forget about Minpa."
Marinette blinks, and turns to Emma. "What?" she prompts.
"I won't forget about Minpa," Emma repeated, turning her sharp gaze up to her mother.
"Oh sweetie," Marinette sighs, leaning over to her daughter. "We don't want you to forget Minpa. Never would we want you too."
"But he's replacing Papa..."
"...I need Chat Noir at my side," Marinette said gently. "My guarding shadow. He watches out for me Em. Helps me stay safe. Helps me keep my head so I don't do anything stupid. Minpa would be sad if I was working alone, choosing to work alone because I don't want a new Chat Noir."
Emma hugged the doll tightly to her chest.
"It's not fair," she bubbled out, biting her lip angrily.
"It's not," Marinette agreed.
"I want Minpa. I want him back, I want him to be Chat Noir."
Marinette wrapped an arm around the dark haired girl, pulling her close and nuzzling the back of her head. "I do too," she mumbled into her hair.
Emma gave a loud sniff, pressing her face against the doll's.
Marinette rocked them back and forth, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of her head. "I'm... I'm going to visit Minpa's grave Em. He, he's going to be there. He wanted to see Minpa." Withdrawing, she leaned around, meeting her daughter's silver eyes. "Do you want to come? Do you want to meet him?" With a tight smile, she adds, "Plagg'll be there."
Anniversary.
It was his first anniversary.
Of course Emma was going to be there.
Hugging the doll close, she said, "I suppose I miss that rat."
Marinette laughed, earning a small, pleased smile from her daughter.
The nurses weren't crazy about the idea, they shot her odd and estrange looks, some even approached and uttered how she shouldn't do that.
But Marinette didn't care.
She knew his comforts better than them.
She knew what would relax him most.
Her cat laid on his side, his near bald head in her lap, with Marinette running her fingers over his scalp, shakily humming a tune she's sure he couldn't even hear. She didn't even know if she was humming for him, or for her, trying to drown out that slowing beat of the monitor, trying to ignore what was coming.
Even as her hot tears slid down her cheeks, and dribbled onto him, she just kept stroking and humming, pretending that this wasn't his last moment, pretending that he was just sleeping. Pretend that Emma would rush in at any moment and bounce on him, waking him up with a sharp, grumpy grumble. And she would kiss that scowl away, laughing her good morning to the sleepy cat.
And he would turn, nuzzle her and purr, mumble his sleepy greeting back before rising up, carrying Emma off, asking what she'd like to drink for breakfast, saying no when she asked for coffee, the ultimate breakfast drink for adults.
But Emma didn't come rushing in.
She was with her parents, huddled up, confused, scared, and sad.
And Felix didn't wake.
Not to her touch.
Not to her tears.
Not the the loud, dragging beep of the monitor.
He wasn't going to open his eyes again, or grumble at her ever again.
With a big shake of her form, she hunched forward, pressing a long kiss to his brow.
When Chat confessed that he knew who she was, or at least, what she looked like; Marinette reasoned that keeping secret identities was pointless with that.
So she made the offer, the chance for them to officially meet.
And he agreed, wishing to pay respects to his predecessor.
Emma clung to her hand, eyeing the rows of graves as Marinette guided her along, stomping before one of the larger ones.
The D'Noire family insisted that he'd get a decent sized grave, shadow over a small few at least.
That's a bit of who Felix was.
He liked casting shadows. Just as much as he enjoyed being in the shadows.
She stopped before the grave, eyeing the chiseled text, not reading it.
Emma came down, placing the rose on the tombstone. Taking Marinette's hand, she asked, "He'll get it, wight?"
Marinette hummed her confirmation.
"I think he'd be crazy to miss out on such a beautiful rose." They turned, seeing a blond man nervously approaching, his green eyes flickered between them.
Marinette blinked, recognizing him.
Adrien Agreste.
This was her new partner.
She wants to laugh. A dry and humorless laugh. All these years later, he did become her Chat.
She gave a start when Emma hid behind her legs, eyeballing Adrien warily.
Tikki peeked out into the open, offering the man a wave.
Plagg popped out of a pocket, huffing. Drawing near, he greeted, "Marinette."
"It's been a while," she returned, reaching up to scratch the little cat's head.
"Nearly two years," he adds, leaning into her touch with a purr.
"Rat."
He blinked, looking down at Emma and scoffing. "Don't know if I missed you," he sneered lightly, dropping down to jab at her nose. He let the child grab him, hold him close to rub her cheek against him, feeling him purr and slightly nuzzle back.
Adrien stared, surprised at the affection.
"I suppose that would take some getting used too," Marinette chuckled, coming to his side with a tired smile.
"It's weird," he agreed, offering an awkward smile as he turned to her. Holding out a hand, he introduced, "Adrien Agreste."
"Marinette D'Noi... Dupain-Cheng," she returned, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.
"Marinette," he repeats. It was familiar on his lips.
Nodding, she turned to the little girl beside her. "Emma D'Noire-Cheng." Silver eyes glanced at him. "Emma, this is Adrien, the new Chat."
He offered her a shy wave.
Emma pursed her lips at him.
Coming around, Adrien crouched beside the tombstone, coming beside Emma. He eyed the chiseled letters, considering the grave before him.
Felix D'Noire-Cheng
2001-2026
True friend
Devoted father
Beloved partner and husband
"What was he like?" he asked Emma, sparing the silver eyed child a glance.
Emma blinked at him, then wrinkled her nose. "He wouldn't have liked you."
"Oh?"
"You're like... sunshine." Plagg gave a dry chuckle at that.
Adrien stuck his tongue out at them.
"He would've liked you," Marinette said, offering a hand to Adrien, pulling him. "It would've taken a while though."
"...He wasn't that unfriendly, was he?" he asked lightly, not letting go her hand.
She made no move to pull it away. Marinette smiled, breathing a shaky breath as she peered at the tombstone.
Adrien gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, noting her squeezing back.
To the tombstone, he bows his head, offering silent words of wonder, and the promise to be there for his family.
Beside him, Emma peered up at this new Chat Noir, eyeing the serious expression on his face, how tightly he held her Maman's hand. She glanced at the kwamis, settled on his shoulder, with Tikki eyeing the grave sadly while Plagg looked away, tail twitching slightly.
She glanced down at her empty arms, wishing she brought the doll with her.
Her silver eyes flickered to the hand hanging near, open, and empty.
Slowly, unsure, she shyly took a few fingers, wrapping her smaller hand around them. Those fingers gently curled around her hand, holding her securely, and spreading warmth over her skin. She spared a wary glance up, meeting warm green eyes and a reassuring smile.
She quickly looked away, dark hair bouncing around her shoulders.
She still thought he was too smiley to be Chat Noir.
Still wasn't too sure of him being there.
Or what it meant, if he was going to be a constant in their lives now.
She didn't know what to think or feel.
But at this moment, standing over Minpa's grave, she tightened her grip on Adrien's fingers, shaking slightly.
He gave her a reassuring squeeze back.