The room stilled, silence held in its coat tails, and the supervillain stepped forward, a half limp, half fall to his step.
Finally, he collapsed, and it was the oddest thing to ever see as Hawkmoth's hands gently smoothed over the white jacket of Adrien Agreste as he stared at the hole blasted through his chest.
He looked like anything but a criminal for a moment, and his hands didn't still as if they had a mind of their own.
"I'm so so sorry." The words were broken phrases, carelessly thrown out the window, as Hawkmoth leaned over the quickly getting colder corpse before him and sobbed, real painful, guttural sounds that tore through Ladybug's heart.
She stepped forward, rage fading to pure agony of sadness. She laid a hand on Hawkmoth's shoulder.
"I miss him too." It was the weirdest thing that she'd perhaps ever said as Marinette or Ladybug to be addressing the criminal that had terrorized and nearly destroyed many lives throughout Paris.
Ladybug had only now seen who her partner was, only now knew for a fact that Hawkmoth had a heart, and only now felt the brokenness of her soul as it fled away from her.
"Do you think there's anyway to save him?" She whispered, watching the small Kwami, Plagg as he'd introduce himself if he could find the words to say, land delicately right over top Adrien's shoulder, face ashen.
Hawkmoth's eyes turned to her, but all that was revealed in that gaze was pure, pure regret.
Ladybug stood up on shaky legs that tried to give out on her and tried, "Miraculous Ladybug." The ladybugs swarmed the body of her faithful partner but their spinning merely left him there, blood dried up, wound healing, but no breath to his throat.
Her tears fell, and she barely noticed her detransformation, heart punctured by the loss before her, "Oh, Cat Noir, Adrien, I'm sorry." She didn't kill him, but her heart gave way just like she had.
Marinette knelt down beside him again to take his hands in her own and leaned down to press a tear stricken kiss to his cheek, pressing down to kiss his forehead, wishing all the while that she could have him back before she thought to try mouth to mouth.
'If only he would breathe.'
Her hands found his chest, cleared of the blood wound though still stained in his blood, clothes still torn, and she pressed her lips to him, breathing for two was all that she could do.
Marinette's hands beat out a steady rhythm, imitating a heartbeat, a breath, that was surely not her own as her heart ached and caved in her chest, ragged beats to a saddened drum.
She could barely concentrate, the ache was only intensified in her chest, and she did her best to breathe what he needed into his lungs.
Somehow she felt Hawkmoth's hand on her back, soothing circles, encouraging her heart to be not be so weary.
It felt weird to say the least to know that her enemy was here longing for her hero partner to breathe again; it felt weird to feel those comforting circles and realize that while she didn't know who Hawkmoth was that she had a guess as to who he could be though no reason why.
Her hands were encouraging, timid, but yet not whisper soft touches, her mouth felt tear stained by the tears of hers that fell without fail and that she could barely feel.
When there was a breath meeting hers, heartbeat easing to be much easier to hear, there was relief, but it still did not feel real, not after today.
She stayed strong for his sake even while her heart gave nervous leaps in her chest, even as she felt herself breaking and falling more into this moment.
Marinette only pulled back when there was a slight rhythm beneath her, a slight hint of life.
"P-Princess?" It was weak and feeble, but she doubted that he'd realized that he'd detransformed.
"We should get him to a hospital." Tikki murmured somewhere near Marinette's ear.
Hawkmoth stood up then, almost graceful but not quite there yet, and offered a hand for her to take, "I'll make sure that they treat him."
She wonders as she reaches down to pull Adrien into her arms how all of this has changed so fast; she doesn't feel evil from Hawkmoth anymore, just a little nervous over how sides shift and change after all of these years.
Marinette carries Adrien, and she could see his surprise as his green eyes peer up into her blue eyes; she can't quite find the will to confess to being Ladybug as of yet, it would be too much for his tired heart that only now knows how to beat again.
She follows Hawkmoth to a hospital, not explaining in the least to Adrien why Hawkmoth isn't fighting, isn't attacking, just escorting them.
"Help, help, Adrien Agreste has been hurt." She wonders briefly if it's wrong to panic for a moment to draw hospital staff over like moths to light to protect the life of her partner, sort of valuing him over the other people here.
She aches though and can't find it in herself to care even though she knows that Paris is her duty, her livelihood, and that she's selfish in that way.
Marinette handles the paperwork with Hawkmoth's assistance, and it flows from their fingertips to the hospital staff; they aren't allowed to step into Adrien's room yet though she's vaguely sure that Plagg snuck in anyway.
She counts her fingers, her toes, to keep busy, to pretend that her world hasn't shifted, isn't changing.
Hawkmoth sits beside her and counts butterflies that only he can see, and she wonders vaguely how they came to be like this, how they'd managed civility and pretended normalcy.
She wonders if he feels like a spear drove through his chest too, and if he understands that the world feels small and is growing smaller beneath her feet; it's the most terrifying weightlessness that she's ever known.
Hawkmoth's hands are gentle when they are soothing her back again, and she realizes that they are both drenched in blood, both broken beyond repair.
"I'm sorry, Ladybug." Her heroine name is muttered softly, a well kept secret, but he can't help but say it.
She doesn't know what energy within her compels her to say what she does next, "Marinette."
"I'm sorry, Marinette." He mutters, and she marvels over the fact that she feels anything but like a hero in the moment.
Her belly feels topsy turvy, her insides mush; she feels like throwing up.
"You can come in now." A nurse tells them with a smile as if she has this thinly veiled mask to keep joy on her face to ease visitors' minds though she nearly frowns at just the sight of Hawkmoth in the waiting room though chooses not to say anything.
Marinette enters the room first; Adrien's unconscious, tubes stuck to him, pumping what they could of life back into him.
She steps forward, notices numbly that Plagg is sitting on his shoulder again, and holds onto Adrien's hand that is close to her.
His breaths are much more regular, he definitely has a heartbeat now though it's not quite at the pace that it's supposed to be.
'He'll make it' fills the room though no one says the words out loud, and she just collapses by his side, tears of relief, of joy, of anguish fall from her sides, and finally she sobs like Hawkmoth had earlier, lets her emotions bounce off the walls, relieve her of the stress of the evening.
Hawkmoth kneels by Adrien's other side, gently massaging his fingers like it will make him better, and just silently accepting her sobs like she had his earlier.
Marinette's relieved that he doesn't say anything, doesn't discredit her relief, the ache and burden in her chest.
"Thank you," She whispers, and she isn't sure if it's a prayer, a gratitious thanks to Hawkmoth for silence, or a way to ease the ache in her chest.
She relaxes in the room as her tears run dry, refuses to ever leave until Adrien's awake and well again and hopefully discharged, knows that she'll visit him often to check up on him, and knows for once that that will be allowed.