AN: Tissue alert. See end of chapter for warnings (to avoid spoilers).
Anywhere, I would have followed you (Say Something)
By Indygodusk
Chapter 10: Drowning the Stars
Walking by, Adrien noticed his father standing in his now dark office staring up at the gold painting of his missing wife. Unmoving, he stood with his hands clasped behind his back. The room's only illumination came from the night sky and the hall light, an uneasy blend of bone white and harsh yellow. Whatever his father saw when he got like this, it wasn't the details of the Klimpt-inspired painting.
"Why don't you ever talk about her?" Adrien hovered outside his father's domain, his fingers barely pressing on the doorframe. The conversation with Professor Ogbore weighed heavily on his mind.
At the question, muscles up and down his father's back clenched, but he didn't turn around. The silence stretched. Dropping his hand to his side, Adrien sighed and turned to leave.
Abruptly his father spoke. "When you do everything you can to achieve a goal, giving it your blood and soul, calling in every favor, using all your time and money, wielding the lives of others, even ignoring should and should nots, and still it remains out of reach… saying too much dilutes the will and leads to acceptance of past-tense and defeat."
"I don't understand," Adrien stared at the back of his father's head, completely lost.
His father's head tilted, giving Adrien a glimpse of the humorless twist to his lips. "As it should be."
Adrien clenched his jaw at the answer, but he didn't leave.
Sighing, his father turned and came to Adrien's side. He placed a hand, heavy and hot, on his shoulder. With Adrien's body blocking the hall light, most of his father's features and form disappeared into the shadows like a chiaroscuro painting. Adrien both yearned for more connection and yet felt uneasy at the touch. His father squeezed his shoulder. "Your mother loves us. She'll return one day. Nothing else need be said."
Before the arguments cramming Adrien's throat could escape, his father stepped past him and disappeared up the staircase without a backward glance. Adrien pressed his lips tight, ignoring the frustration stinging in his eyes. He kept his head down to avoid seeing the shadowed face of his mother. Spinning on his heel, he retreated to his room. He only realized his own hypocrisy in avoiding her image once the door to his room swung closed.
Sending his missing mother a silent apology, he decided to ignore his nerves and just call Aunt Carrie. If his father wouldn't give him any information, maybe she would. The phone rang five times and went to voicemail. Hanging up without leaving a message, Adrien paced back and forth across his floor.
Tension thrummed through his body. Going to his climbing wall, he jumped up and grabbed a hold with both hands. As he climbed to the top, he purposefully avoided all of the easy handholds. Sweat beaded on his brow. Once at the ceiling, he let go, somersaulting to land on the floor in a crouch.
Launching himself to his feet, he snatched up his phone and hit redial. It rang four times. Then a female voice picked up with a confrontational, "Dr. Moreau speaking. This better not be a salesman or recording."
Adrien licked his lips and wiped an arm across his damp forehead. "Hello, um no, this is Adrien Agreste. I don't know if you remember me? You were friends with my mother, Marie Agreste."
"Yes, of course I remember you, Adrien. Of course I do." Carrie's voice went from confident to shaky. She cleared her throat. "How've you been doing? Is everything alright?"
"I'm fine, thank you for asking," Adrien answered politely. Then he let himself speak bluntly, "I haven't heard from you since my mother disappeared almost four years ago, but I ran into one of her old friends today, a Professor Ogbore. He gave me your number when I mentioned how I didn't know a lot about my mom's time at University. I mean, I didn't even know she had schizophrenia. It made me wonder if that's why she left and hasn't come back yet, because she's mentally ill. Maybe she just needs the right medication or something to remember that she belongs here with us."
"Adrien, does your father know you're talking to me?" Carrie's voice sounded strange.
Frowning, Adrien clutched his phone tighter. "I'm eighteen now, not eight. I don't have to clear every phone call with him. It's not like I'm asking for classified secrets or something. I just thought you'd be willing to tell me more about my mom, your supposed best friend. She disappeared into thin air. I- I miss her and I thought you might too. No one ever talks about her anymore. You may not get along with my father, but I thought you loved my mom and cared about me at least a little bit. Just because my mom's missing doesn't mean she should be forgotten. I'm her son and I deserve to know. Please, Aunt Carrie, help me."
Through the phone, Adrien heard the unmistakable sound of crying. It made him realize that tears were dripping down his cheeks too. His mouth felt dry and his lips tasted salty. Sniffing, he mopped his face roughly with his sleeve.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Carrie said in thick voice. "You're right. Marie loved you more than anything. She'd want you to know. You both deserve that and your father's opinion doesn't matter anymore. I'm sorry I haven't been around-" she broke off as her voice became unintelligible. Adrien found himself having trouble keeping his breathing even. He turned away from the door and tried to muffle the sound behind his fist lest Nathalie hear and come investigate.
Finally, Carrie managed to get ahold of herself. "Sorry," she apologized wetly. "I'm out of town, but I'll be back in a few days. I don't think what I have to say should be done over the phone. Can I text you a time and place to meet when I get back?"
Clearing his throat, Adrien hoarsely replied, "Yes, of course. I'll see you then."
They said their goodbyes and hung up. Adrien had told Nathalie and the chef earlier that he intended to get takeout for dinner and then spend the night playing videogames. However, after such an emotionally wracking day, he decided to just skip dinner and go to sleep early. Despite his exhaustion, he tossed and turned for almost an hour, but finally managed to escape into unconsciousness.
When Carrie finally texted him back, Adrien put his escape plans into motion. After cancelling his driver after school, Nino helped distract his bodyguard. Adrien then ducked out and made sure to meet up with Chloe in public so he wasn't technically lying.
He'd told Nathalie that he'd be helping Chloe go shopping and would be home late. Chloe was of the few people on his father's approved friend list. She served as a valid excuse for changing the schedule. With his father unexpectedly traveling out of town this morning, Nathalie was too busy scrambling to yank Adrien's chain shorter.
Despite the fact that Chloe was dating a boy in college, she still kissed his cheek lingeringly as soon as she saw him. "I'm glad you called me," Chloe smiled. Then she wrapped herself around Adrien's arm like an octopus, pressing it against her chest, and began dragging him down the street. Her touches made him very uncomfortable, as always. Remembering his talk with Marinette about being more assertive, Adrien abruptly stopped moving.
Caught off guard, Chloe stumbled to a stop, almost falling onto her face. "Adrien! What's the matter?"
"You're a good person and my lifelong friend, Chloe," he began. She preened and pressed herself closer "But I don't like it when you kiss my cheek and press against me. When I try to get away, you ignore it and clutch even tighter."
Flinching, Chloe leaned back, but didn't let go. "What are you talking about? We always do this."
"No, Chloe. You always do this. I've never liked it and I wish you would stop." He met her eyes levelly.
"But…" lip trembling, Chloe stared at him with eyes swimming with tears, "aren't we friends?"
Adrien would always be loyal to Chloe as one of his earliest friends. Plus, she was one of the few people who understood not having a mother anymore without him having to talk about it. However, they'd reacted to their losses in different ways. He didn't like the masks Chloe wore to protect herself from getting hurt. To keep herself feeling safe, she acted spoiled and self-centered, not seeming to care if she hurt others. She acted strong, but inside she was the most fragile person he knew.
"You'll always be my friend, Chloe. This isn't about that. I don't want to hurt your feelings. I just get touched out with my modeling and the way people always crowd me, if you know what I mean. I have to be polite to strangers, no matter what I'd rather do or say. You aren't a stranger, though. I'd like to be able to fully relax and be honest around you so our friendship can remain strong, but it's hard when I'm uncomfortable with the way you touch me. Does that make sense?" He gave her a beseeching look.
Unwillingly, Chloe nodded. However, she didn't drop her hands from his arm. Her mouth drooped in a frown.
Squaring his shoulders, Adrien let himself be a little manipulative. "Other people ignore it when I ask them to stop touching me, but they aren't you, Chloe. You really know me. I don't mind the occasional short hug from a friend, but unless I ask for it, I don't really want more. Is that okay? Can you still be my friend knowing that?"
Chloe chewed on her lip and stared at him. Then with glacial slowness, she slid her fingers off his arm, leaned back, and crossed them over her chest. Subdued, she said, "Of course I'll still be your friend, Adrien."
"Thank you," he gifted her with a smile, surprised but pleased that his words were actually working.
Blinking hard, Chloe looked down. "Can I- can I have a hug now?"
Adrien hesitated, wary of a trick, but in the end he couldn't hold out in the face of her unhappiness. "OK, Chloe, a short, friendly hug. Then we can keep walking. Aren't we supposed to be shopping for your date tonight before I take off?"
Shrugging moodily, Chloe stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his waist, and gave him perhaps the gentlest hug he'd ever received from her. Adrien squeezed back just once. Then he dropped his arms to his sides. "Shall we go?"
Though she stiffened at his words, Chloe nevertheless slid back without further protest and let go. It was practically a miracle. In his mind, a cartoon cheerleader with Marinette's face jumped up and down shaking her pompoms. Cartoon Adrien gave her a fistbump.
"Why don't you tell me where you're going tonight on your date," he invited.
Although she initially sounded stiff, within a minute Chloe had resumed her normal level of babbling. Thank goodness. Chloe had a good heart; she just rarely let it show. Her admiration of Ladybug came out of that. Unfortunately, Chloe usually preferred to pretend she didn't have a heart. It made it hard to be around her sometimes, but he refused to give up on her. He had too few friends to throw one away.
"Adrien, are you even listening to me?" Chloe asked demandingly. "I asked what you thought about buying this jacket!"
Forcing himself to focus, Adrien looked at the white denim and lace jacket in the window. It had denim along the shoulders, front, and upper back, with a long, ruffled lace hem that sat high on the waist. The lace had a tight pattern, which helped it look fashionable instead of frumpy. However, "Not every woman could pull off a jacket like that and still look classy, Chloe," he cautioned.
"But I really like it," Chloe whined. "Besides, I'm not most women."
"Very true," he placated. "As long as you keep the rest of your outfit simple, choose the right accessories, and with your confident attitude, I'm sure you'll make it look great. You always do."
A genuine smile peeked out of her unusually soft expression. "Thank you." They went into the boutique. Chloe turned to say something, but then she saw someone over Adrien's shoulder. Her mouth snapped shut and her mask unfortunately fell back into place.
Raising her nose into the air, she sniffed haughtily. "Too bad some girls just can't accept that they'll simply never be pretty. They should wear bags over their heads to spare the rest of us the discomfort."
Glancing back, he saw her focusing on Marinette outside as she walked by. Marinette's hands, encased in pale pink and white knit gloves, flew enthusiastically through the air as she talked on her phone. A charcoal gray coat flapped around her legs. The cold made her cheeks glow rosily. Suddenly, she threw back her head and laughed with delight and abandon. Adrien personally found her animation delightful.
"Whatever, Chloe," he answered softly. As she'd said, Marinette wasn't pretty. No, instead, she was beautiful – both inside and out.
They hadn't been close his first year of school after he'd made such a bad first impression with the gum on her seat. It took a while for her strange discomfort with him to fade, but getting to finally know her had been a revelation. Marinette's friendship felt like being wrapped in a warm scarf, biting into a sweet chocolate croissant, and then playing an exhilarating game of tag before collapsing onto the ground in fit of giggles.
Adrien wished Chloe and Marinette could be friends. Chloe had a wicked sense of humor in private that would leave Marinette in stitches and ease the sometimes burdened shape of her shoulders. Marinette could give Chloe the love and loyalty, not to mention the firm boundaries, that she secretly craved. Plus, she'd have no problem pointing out that Chloe was most wonderful when she acted true to herself. They'd be good for each other.
Unfortunately, they hated each other. They always believed the worst of each other and their opinions had formed well before he came on the scene. Sadly, neither seemed interested in moving beyond animosity.
Just as Marinette disappeared out of sight down the icy sidewalk, his phone produced a discrete beep. It was finally four thirty. "Uh oh, Chloe," he said with feigned surprise. "Aren't you supposed to be meeting up with your boyfriend soon?"
A complex expression twisted Chloe's face as she checked the time. "I am, but I don't want to leave you. You know that he's only my boyfriend because you won't be. We rarely get to hang out just the two of us anymore. I could cancel. "
Adrien shook his head. "Nah, you shouldn't leave the guy hanging like that. I'm happy to just be your friend. He's the boyfriend you've got and if you don't like him, you could easily find another. Besides, I have something else I need to do. You go on and have fun."
"But, Adrien," she protested weakly, obviously still torn.
"We can always meet up online and play a videogame later this week," he offered. Although she'd publically disdained videogames for years, she'd become secretly addicted one memorable weekend in their junior year. Unsurprisingly, she was quite bloodthirsty in the virtual world.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. He didn't want to be late for his own meeting. Huffing, Chloe crossed her arms. "Fine, how about tonight?"
Adrien doubted that he'd be in any mood to play after his meeting. "I've got to work on a school report tonight and you've got your father's political rally tomorrow. We can figure it out at school later."
"I suppose," Chloe sighed dramatically. "But don't raid any villages without me, alright? I'm going to buy this and then run back home to shower before my date. Do you want a ride?"
"Nah, I'm good," Adrien said, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I'll catch you later, Chloe."
Before he could escape, Chloe jumped at him and gave him a tight hug, seemingly forgetting their earlier talk. "Bye, Adrien," she breathed coyly. "Call me if you change your mind."
Disentangling himself, he stepped back so she couldn't grab him again. At least she didn't try to give him a goodbye kiss. That was progress. "Bye," he waved.
Chloe sighed and something complicated went through her eyes. Lowering her voice, she added, "If anyone asks, you were with me for hours. Good luck with your meeting." Then she smirked and turned her attention to the rack of accessories near the cash register. At that moment, he was grateful to have Chloe as a friend.
Following the map in his mind, Adrien left the boutique and strode down the street, coincidentally in the same direction that Marinette had gone. When he reached the transit station without seeing Marinette, he tried not to feel too disappointed. With every step, his mood had darkened. He'd planned on having this meeting with Carrie alone, but seeing Marinette on the sidewalk made him wistfully yearn to have her with him. Thinking back on his conversation with Professor Ogbore, he kept remembering the way Marinette had tucked herself into his shadow as a warm line of comfort, barely pressing but unequivocally there as support. He wanted that again. It was nice to not be alone.
An unexpected tap on his shoulder yanked Adrien out of his thoughts. Jumping in surprise, he turned around and saw Marinette standing behind him with a big grin. He should have guessed based on the faint scent of raspberry macarons, linen, and rose water. The only women he knew who smelled like that were Marinette and Ladybug. Yawning, Adrien wiggled his jaw to pop the pressure in his ears and lost his train of thought.
"Hi, Adrien!" She bounced on her heels cheerfully. "I didn't mean to scare you. I saw you waiting as I was waiting and then I thought that maybe we're going to the same place, so I thought I'd come and ask you about your waiting to see if we're waiting for the same thing, the thing that is a place and not a train, because the train part's obvious. Obviously." Her face turned red with embarrassment as she pressed her lips together firmly.
For some reason, Marinette randomly descended into babbling around him. When he wasn't confused, he found it amusing. "Hi, Marinette," he gave her a faint smile, trying to decide how much to say and if he really could ask for her help.
The sheepish look on her face faded into one of concern. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he automatically replied.
Cocking her head to the side, she raised her brows skeptically. "O-kay, if you say so. Alya and I were supposed to hang out, but she cancelled on me, so I'm on my way home."
"If she alright?" Adrien asked.
Marinette waved off his concern. "Alya got a last minute interview with a Media Studies Professor. She knows everyone wants her in their University; she's just casting out lures to see which department will offer her the most incentives. This is the fifth professor in town that she's gotten to the negotiating table." She sighed. "I wish I had fashion professors calling me, but then again, maybe it's just as well," looking away, her voice became soft and musing, "less temptation now that I've chosen to embrace duty."
"Temptation?" Adrien asked curiously.
Turning back, she flushed red again. "Never mind me, what about you? Where are you off to?"
At her question, his anxieties flooded back. "I-," he hesitated, but decided to give her the truth, "I contacted Carrie, my mom's friend. She wants to meet me at the Ladybug & Chat Noir statue in the park to talk about my mom."
"That's great," Marinette said encouragingly.
"Would you- would you mind coming with me?" Adrien asked before he could second-guess himself.
Surprised pleasure broke out on her face. "Sure, course I'll come."
"Thank you," he said, feeling better already about his upcoming meeting.
Once they exited the bus, they both shivered and fastened their coats higher as the temperature had dropped, especially in the shadows. They pulled their hats down as far as they'd go. Marinette had huddled down inside her scarf like a turtle in her shell. Only her blue eyes peeked out from the pink fabric.
Adrien didn't wear a scarf. He'd left it at home. The blue scarf had been a gift from his father for his fifteenth birthday. Today wasn't about his father; it was about his mother and her best friend. Adrien didn't want his father spoiling this conversation in any way, not even with a silent reminder of his presence.
"Hey Adrien," Marinette said, "if this meeting lasts past sunset, we're going to have to retreat inside or else risk becoming popsicles. I'll treat everyone to hot chocolate if it will help move things somewhere warmer."
"We'll have to see what Carrie wants. She specified the park. I suggested a bakery, but she insisted we meet at the statue. If it gets too cold for you, you can go and get warm in the nearest store until I'm done. You're doing me a favor by even being here. No reason for you to freeze to death with the rest of us. I can take you home when we're done," Adrien offered.
Marinette sent him a mock-offended look. "Don't be ridiculous. I was just complaining. I'm here to support you and satisfy my curiosity about your mysterious, genius, beautiful mother. If you want privacy, say the word and I'll disappear, but otherwise you're stuck with me. You might have an urgent need to protect your head and I'm just the shoulder-hopping girl to do it."
"Thanks," he said with a small smile. As they neared the park, the sun came out from behind the clouds to warm the air. The shadows by the transit station had felt bitterly cold, but the temperature in the park wasn't that bad.
They came around a turn in the path to see the statue of Ladybug and Chat Noir atop its pedestal. It always filled him with a sense of pride to see it. Adrien loved being Chat Noir, even if he did have to put up with unexpected schedule changes, constant danger, and Plagg to do it. He liked this statue much more than all of his modeling photos combined, though the recent photoshoot where he'd pretended to be Chat Noir in a three-piece suit ran a close second.
A mature redhead waited at the statue in a gray wool peacoat. She faced the opposite direction. Despite not seeing her for years, Adrien recognized his Aunt Carrie's plump silhouette immediately. She'd always given great hugs that smelled like cinnamon. When he'd lost his first tooth, he'd wished for cinnamon red hair just like hers. He'd burst into tears in front of the mirror when he saw blond hair still on his head. The money under his pillow from the tooth fairy hadn't consoled him at all.
Pace speeding up, Adrien left Marinette behind in his rush. "Aunt Carrie," he called.
Turning around anxiously, her eyes went wide as she looked up at him. A delighted smile stretched her lips wide. "Adrien, you've gotten so tall! The little boy has turned into such a handsome young man. Come over here and give me a hug. I've missed you."
As a boy, Adrien used to grin up at her face before throwing his little body against her torso. She'd wrap her arms around his body, lift him up into the air, and give him tight squish hugs that made him feel warm and bubbly inside. Now he found himself leaning down to wrap his arms around her instead, much too big to be picked up, much less squished like he remembered. He thought it would be awkward, but it wasn't at all. The affection in her tight hug was clear as she squeezed and rocked him back and forth. Plus, she still smelled like cinnamon.
"It's good to see you again," she said, squeezing one last time before letting him go.
"You too," Adrien replied.
Looking over his shoulder, Carrie gave a friendly smile. "And who's this young lady? Your girlfriend?" Adrien's heart skipped a beat.
"Oh, no, no," Marinette rushed to deny with a strange laugh. "We're just friends, school friends. I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Dr. Carolyn Moreau, but please call me Carrie," she said with a friendly twinkle in her eye.
At Marinette's loud denial, Adrien felt the flush of warm pleasure in his belly turn ice cold. She didn't have to be so vociferous about it. Was the thought of dating him really so distasteful? No one else seemed to think so, well, except for Ladybug. Depressed, he looked away from the two women and schooled his expression.
When he turned back, they'd finished shaking hands and had turned to the statue. "The artist did an amazing job of capturing the vitality and heroism of Paris's superheroes, don't you think?" Carrie asked, gesturing up. "The details in their faces are astounding."
"He's very talented," Marinette answered with an awkward little laugh.
Remembering the man's obsession with meeting Ladybug, Adrien was pretty sure that had something to do with it. The artist had gotten evilized over his disappointment at not meeting Ladybug when she'd missed the unveiling ceremony, after all. Chat's attendance hadn't been good enough. Then again, she was just that kind of woman. Ladybug inspired obsession in a lot of people, himself included.
"Paris is lucky to have Ladybug," Adrien said, gazing up at her features for the millionth time in a futile attempt to see the face of the woman behind the mask.
"They make me feel brave just looking at them," Carrie sighed, staring up at the statue as melancholy drew down the corners of her mouth. "That's one of the reasons why I wanted to meet here. I needed the reminder to be as brave as Paris's superhero duo. Otherwise, I might have chickened out and not shown up for this conversation."
Adrien only hid his flinch at her words through long practice with his father. "Why not?" he asked evenly.
Closing her eyes, Carrie swallowed hard. Then she met his eyes with an expression swimming with sadness. He'd beg if he had to. Carrie tilted her head towards the path. "Let's walk and I'll try to find the courage to explain my other reason for starting here."
They began to walk with Adrien sandwiched in the middle of the two women. A cloud drifted over the sun where it hung low on the horizon. He saw Marinette shiver as they moved into shadow, but he didn't even notice the drop in temperature through his focus on Carrie's next words.
Licking chapped lips, Carrie began her story. "Marie was blessed with heightened beauty, smarts, and compassion. You have to understand that she was inherently good in a way that very few people in this world really are. Everyone loved her because she always did her best to be what the person wanted so they'd feel happy: her parents, her professors, her husband, even me, her best friend. Conflict and negative emotions were difficult for her to be around; they made her profoundly uncomfortable."
They left the park and slowly drifted down the street. "Because Marie felt like she had to change to make others happy, that she was responsible for making the people around her happy, she didn't do well with crowds or large groups of people. It made her too anxious and stressed. She'd never stand up for herself, only for others. It used to drive me crazy! It took me years to figure out who she was stripped of everyone else's opinions.
"Marie was a genius with a mind that never rested. Sometimes she'd babble on for hours whether someone was listening or not. All of that internal energy needed an outlet. As her friend, I learned that being too idle also made her anxious. It put her in a bad place mentally. I tried to always carry something around to keep her mind busy, even if just a little toy maze or crossword puzzle." Pressing her lips together tightly, Carrie pulled a water bottle out of her purse and took a sip.
"Is that related to the schizophrenia Professor Ogbore mentioned? That was the first I'd ever heard about her having any mental problems," Adrien asked tightly, his breathing speeding up. He felt powerless in his ignorance and so tense that a stiff breeze would probably snap him like a bowstring.
Gloved fingers brushed against the back of his hand, reminding him of Marinette's silent support. The lack of skin contact actually made it easier to calm down and slow his breathing. It reminded him of similar gloved touches from Ladybug during battle. It reminded him that he wasn't alone.
Although Nino was Adrien's best friend, he had trouble dealing with the darker side of people without getting angry and depressed. Nino's negative spiral could actually make problems worse. Over the years, Adrien had learned that some troubles were best kept private around Nino. It made their friendship go much more smoothly. Nino was such a good and loyal person otherwise that Adrien couldn't really resent him for it.
However, despite being much smaller physically, Adrien had no doubt that Marinette had shoulders strong enough to bear anything he had to say. Ladybug also would take his problems in stride. Those two women had each in their own way become firmly entrenched in his heart. In the face of trouble, they had eyes of flint and hearts of gold.
"I didn't know about the schizophrenia until she ended up in the hospital. I don't think anyone did." Carrie made an angry face. "Her family didn't believe in mental illness, said it was a label created by weak people and reinforced by con artists in a bid to get money out of gullible people who couldn't stand on their own two feet by themselves. Marie tried to hide it, but she struggled with highs and lows, with anxiety and depression. I tried to get her to go to the campus counseling center, but they couldn't treat her long-term without charging her parent's insurance policy. The one time she asked, her parents threatened to just bring her home so they wouldn't have to waste their money on quacks.
"After that conversation, it seemed like she got better. At least, I thought she did. She wanted all of us to think that, including herself. Grad school was tough, but Gabriel and I did our best to support her, one of the only things we've ever agreed on. Then I got busy designing a new physiology lab course and Gabriel had a big show coming up that had him scrambling because of a mistake by one of his suppliers. Marie was working on this math proof, something insanely complicated that barely anyone, including the professors, could understand. The head of her department was practically orgas-," Carrie cut herself off with a little blush as she looked back at their young faces and edited herself, "was really excited about it. He was constantly checking up on her progress. She worked on it feverishly, barely eating or sleeping until she finally submitted it to a journal for publication. We were excited for her, but everyone was just so busy."
Guilt suffused her face. "We didn't notice that she'd started to spiral down until it was almost too late. I never got the full story, but the paramedics got called when she was discovered in a bad state on campus. Her parents whisked her away to a private psychiatric hospital and wouldn't let anyone see her. They told us she'd been diagnosed with schizophrenia, but that's it. In retrospect, I should have pressed for more information, but her family refused to talk about it and once we got her back, we all just wanted to forget about the scare."
Tipping back her water bottle, she drained it. Then she dropped it back in her purse. "After that, her parents decided that the pressures of school were too much for her, that it had caused her psychotic break. They wanted her to quit. Gabriel agreed with them. How could she stand up to all of them?" Carrie grimaced and gestured helplessly. "I know why they felt that way, her being sick terrified all of us, but it wasn't what she wanted. Nevertheless, Marie always put other people's happiness above her own. Making other people happy made her happy. So she put her studies aside and focused on being a wife and mother."
Heart heavy, Adrien couldn't help but ask, "Was she miserable staying at home with me then?"
"Oh no, not at all," Carrie rushed to assure him. "Never think that. She adored you, Adrien. Nothing made her happier than her husband and son. Just as she'd dreamed of one day explaining the working of the stars, she'd also dreamed of love and having babies. She wanted it all and didn't want to settle for less. If she had to do it sequentially instead of simultaneously, she would. Marie believed that having the important things just took time. If I heard it once, I heard her say it a thousand times, 'Carrie, have a little more patience! It'll either happen or something better will come along.'" She wrinkled her nose petulantly. "I hate waiting for things." Looking over at Adrien, she smiled sheepishly.
"I remember that about you," Adrien said, matching her grin weakly.
Reaching out, Carrie touched his chin lightly. "You are blessed with your mother's smile." Her eyes became wet and she looked away.
They reached a street corner and Carrie turned them left towards a quieter part of the city. "Your mother was so happy with her life that she stopped taking her psychiatric pills altogether. I tried to convince her to stay on them, but she said she felt fine and her husband didn't like the reminder of her weakness. She also didn't want you to think less of her if you found out."
Carrie's face twisted in anger and frustration. "I told her that it was rubbish, that have an imbalance of neurotransmitters was a disease like any other, that taking pills was completely normal, but she refused to hear it. Every time I tried to bring up restarting her pills she changed the conversation. I eventually gave up because nothing happened. She really did seem fine. Time moved on and we all got older.
"However, one day your father Gabriel blinked, looked around, and realized that his son was growing up into a very intelligent and attractive young man without much input on his part. Since Gabriel Agreste has very firm opinions and a pathological need to control everything, he decided that this just wouldn't do. Although he loved your mother, he couldn't very well have her be the primary influence in your life over himself. Thus he insisted on switching to private tutors of his choice and ended Marie's home schooling. Gabriel also decided to bring you into the business as a fashion model so he could mold you into the perfect scion to take over his company when he eventually retired."
Carrie wasn't completely wrong about his father, but she also had an obvious bias against him. She didn't take into account how much his father loved him. Adrien suspected that there was more to what happened than she knew. Unfortunately, his father's lips were sealed so he couldn't get his side of the story.
"As you began spending more and more time away from your mother at lessons and modeling jobs, Marie found herself with more free time." Carrie frowned despairingly and rubbed her forehead hard. "She became bored and increasingly anxious. We talked about it, but none of my suggestions worked." Dread began pooling in Adrien's stomach.
"Marie wanted to return to her study of astrophysics. Sometimes she'd call me in a manic mood and I'd put her on speakerphone while she babbled about math so advanced I couldn't understand a tenth of it. Yet her love of it made that tenth absolutely breathtaking. It seemed like a good option, but Gabriel categorically refused. He wouldn't hear of Marie taxing her mind that way. Instead, he put more money in her shopping account and suggested she take up yoga."
Face set in tight, unhappy lines, Carrie led them towards a park up ahead in the shadow of a big stone church. "Your mother wasn't content with her life, so she felt like a failure. The truth is, Gabriel failed her. I failed her. We all failed Marie."
Their pace slowed as Carrie wiped slowly escaping teardrops off her cheeks with shaking hands. Marinette reached around him to offer Carrie a tissue. Taking it, Carrie scrubbed her cheeks, but the tears just fell faster.
"We can stop talking if you need to," Adrien offered quietly. As much as he wanted to learn more about his mother, he didn't want to make anyone cry.
"No, I need to stop being a coward," Carrie said wetly, sniffling as she gave Adrien an apologetic look. "I need to borrow Ladybug's bravery and finally tell you. I'm so sorry, Adrien. You were just a child and everything felt so raw, but you're old enough now. I should have ignored Gabriel. I shouldn't have listened to him. You should know."
Adrien's tongue felt frozen in his mouth as Carrie's words stuttered into several sobbing breaths. He felt scared. Part of him desperately wanted to hear her next words while the rest of him wanted to cover his ears and run away. This wouldn't be an easy truth.
"Know what, Carrie?" Marinette prompted gently as she leaned firmly against Adrien's arm, reminding him of her presence and almost making the air a bit less heavy.
Staring straight ahead, Carrie seemed to be struggling. Then she spoke. "Your mother called me the day she disappeared."
Adrien stopped breathing. Marinette became the pillar keeping him upright in a world that tipped and swayed alarmingly. The gates of the park were just ahead, but all Adrien could see or hear was Carrie as he waited for her next words.
"Your mother just wanted to make her family happy. In her mind, it was her highest duty. Marie decided that the problem was in her love of the stars. I tried to talk her down, asked her to take the emergency psych meds I insisted she keep in her jewelry box, but she wouldn't listen, just talked over me. She thought that being unhappy was a failing, but she said she knew how to fix it, fix herself so she wouldn't hurt her family. At first she sounded crazy, manic, but then her voice became completely calm. That terrified me most of all. She said-" Carrie blew out a quivering breath and forced it out, "she said that she was going to drown her dreams of the stars so she could finally be content with her down to earth life, that it would fix everything. She said she loved you and your father more than anything, that she loved m-me, and then she hung up."
Unexpectedly falling down onto her knees, Carrie curled forward and hung her head. Cinnamon-red hair draped over her face, but she continued talking. Her voice sounded like her throat was full of glass shards. "I ran out the door with the phone clutched in my hand. I called your father, your house, the cops; I called everyone I could think of. By the time I got to the house, she was gone." Swallowing hard, she forced out, "We searched the city for almost three days before- before we found her."
Adrien jerked. "What? No," he mumbled in shock. That wasn't right. None of this was right! She couldn't be talking about his mother. What did Carrie mean, they found her?! No one had found her. His mother had just disappeared one day without a trace. That's what his father said, what everyone said.
Carrie buried her hands in her hair and clenched her fists. "She was a Jane Doe in the ER of a small clinic on the outskirts of the city. Marie threw herself in the Seine, just like she said she was going to. In her insanity, she tried to drown the stars. A boat fished her out and got her to the clinic, but her heart stopped twice. She fell into a deep coma and they had to put her on life-support. Your father blamed me and promised he'd kill me if I came around either of you ever again. I blamed me too." She bit her lip so hard it began dripping blood down her chin. He should feel something about that, but he was too unstable.
Lifting her head to stare straight ahead, she confessed, "Gabriel put Marie in a private clinic, but I found out where and started volunteering there without his knowledge so I could see her regularly."
"Can I see her, see my mom," Adrien begged desperately, falling to his knees by Carrie's side and leaning forward. "Please, let me visit her!"
"Oh, Adrien," Carrie looked over into his face with red-rimmed eyes and trembling lips, "I'm so sorry. Three months ago, Marie contracted an infection that resisted antibiotics and passed away in her sleep. She's buried here," Carrie gestured and Adrien saw through blurring eyes that the park next to the church was actually a cemetery. "I brought you here to visit your mother's tombstone. She's dead."
Uncontrollable shaking overtook his body. Falling forward, Adrien closed his eyes and pressed his face against the cold, frost-bitten ground and broke into sobs that painfully cut his heart open with jagged knives. It couldn't be true, it couldn't…, but deep down he knew it was. Aunt Carrie wouldn't lie to his face, not like his father. His mother really was dead, had been dead for three months. If only he'd known, he could have been visiting her in the hospital for years. He could have stopped wondering, worrying, imagining the worst, because he would have known. Instead, ignorance had brought him to this.
Inconsolable, he began to wail. It felt like the agony would flail him open, baring his pulsing organs and brittle bones to the sharp ice, that exposure to this truth was too much and he would bleed out on the ground until he joined her in death. He wanted to stop feeling it, stop hearing those words: she's dead.
Clenching his fist, he punched the sidewalk. Then he did it again and again as hard as he could, trying to overwhelm his emotional pain with physical pain. His glove shredded on the hard ground and became saturated with blood, but the pain still wasn't enough to free him. Going to hit the ground again, he knocked into something soft instead of hard.
Blinking uncomprehendingly, he stopped pounding. When he looked down, he found that a hand had interposed itself between him and the ground. The glove's pink and white knit pattern was flecked red from his bloody knuckles. He'd hit Marinette.
Disgusted with himself, he gritted his teeth and snatched his throbbing hand against his chest. Adrien rocked back and forth, trying to exorcise the mental pain that made each breath in and out feel like the sharp snap of a breaking bone. Distantly he felt Marinette's warm body curve over his back, trying to shush and sooth his torment. Rationality disappeared. Adrien would never be sure how much time passed, but finally, he noticed his tears start to slow. Eventually he found the strength to open his puffy eyes and take stock of his surroundings.
He found his head lying in Marinette's lap with his fingers twisted tightly in the coat at her back. Her face was drenched with sympathetic tears, the lashes clumped and shining in the sunset. He could feel minute tremors shaking her small but sturdy frame. She must be freezing. Head aching, nose stuffy, and body feeling a million years old, Adrien unwound his stiff fingers and forced himself to sit up and away from her warm, sweet body.
"I want to see her," Adrien said hoarsely, then cleared his throat, "before the light's all gone. I want to see her headstone now."
Arms wrapped tightly around herself, Carrie stumbled awkwardly to her feet and nodded. "Let go see her then." Marinette passed out tissues to everyone. He swiped his cheeks carelessly and then wadded it up in his pocket.
Seemingly unconcerned that he'd hit her again, Marinette gently took Adrien's uninjured hand. Perhaps he should be pushing her away, but he couldn't. Instead, he clutched her hand tightly in his. They entered the cemetery gates and passed a small duck pond that reflected the purpling sunset. Snow blanketed the ground and muffled their footsteps. Bare trees cast long shadows like skeletal fingers pointing where to find her grave.
Finally they left the path and trudged over crunching snow to a carefully maintained rectangle of stone. Adrien's eyes kept skipping away from the words etched there. A bouquet of vibrant pink Stargazer lilies sat at its base in a midnight blue vase sprinkled with gold glitter. His fingers were probably cutting off the circulation to Marinette's hand, but he couldn't force them to unclench. Instead, all of his strength went to forcing his eyes to actually focus on the headstone's epitaph.
Marie Ann Agreste
Beloved Wife and Mother
Love Has No Limits
Adrien couldn't read the carved years through the tears once more obscuring his vision. Staring fixedly, he finally managed to take in the entire scene of flowers, tomb, and snow to burn into his memory. They stayed until the last sunlight disappeared over the horizon and all hints of yellow cheer leeched into the frozen gray of night.
"Look," Marinette finally interrupted, pointing up. "Stars are already appearing in the eastern sky. We should get going now that it's dark, but they'll keep her company until the moon gets here. I don't know if you believe in heaven, but I bet she's up there right now, dancing with shooting stars and charming their secrets from the angels."
Adrien felt faint warmth fuzz over his pain at the picture painted by her words. His mother had loved to dance. He used to stand on her feet as they twirled. Somehow, he'd almost forgotten that.
When he looked down, Adrien realized that Marinette was holding not just his hand, but had wrapped her arm through Carrie's too. Marinette squeezed gently, adding, "Everything I've heard about Marie tells me that she loved you all very much and wouldn't want you to blame yourselves for anything that happened. It's not anyone's fault, not even hers. Her dearest wish was for your happiness. Mental illness tragically caused her death. It's okay to be sad about that, but I think it's also okay to think of her with happiness and remember what her tombstone says: love has no limits."
"You're right," Carrie said bracingly, giving her a grateful nod. "Marie would say the same thing. Thank you, Marinette."
They turned in tandem and began to walk back out to the street. Before they could go more than a few feet, however, Marinette stopped in her tracks. "Oh! Marlene's here too!" she cried, pulling them forward to a nearby gravestone.
Marlene Germaine Tillion
Always a Lady
A Heroine With & Without Spots
"Did you know her?" Adrien asked, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat, but it still felt thick and painful. Everything felt painful.
Marinette wiped her cheeks and turned to him with a complex smile. "I only met her once, but she was… Miraculous."
An icy breeze slipped down the collar of his coat. Seconds later, Carrie's teeth started to chatter as she shivered. Looking over at them, Carrie shook her head sharply and schooled her expression. "Brr! I don't think any of us are up to a long walk right now. I'm going to call for a heated cab to take us all home. Take your time and I'll let you know when it gets here." Carrie slipped free and pulled out her phone. As the call connected, she wandered towards the front gate, giving them some privacy.
"I'm sorry." Adrien said, his taxed brain slowly turning over Marinette's words as he looked back at Marlene's tombstone. "Wait a second. Miraculous… lady… heroine… spots…." He gave Marinette a wide-eyed glance. "Are you saying she used to be…?" his voice faltered.
Giving him a closemouthed smile, Marinette leaned forward. "When she was young, she saved Paris."
"In red?" he asked in soft wonderment.
"Red and black," Marinette whispered reverently.
Looking between the two tombstones, Adrien found that he could still smile. He made a note to bring two bouquets of flowers when he came back to visit. "I'm glad she's here. She can keep my mom company. I always hoped my mom would have a chance to meet Ladybug."
Not like this though. His expression crumbled, but he forced his tears back. If he started crying again, he didn't think he'd stop.
"We should join Carrie," Marinette said quietly, nudging him out of his downward spiral. "The cab will be here soon." Nodding, he silently followed her to the street.
As they waited, he felt an unexpected surge of gratitude for the woman by his side. Surreptitiously, he glanced over. Adrien saw the familiar slopes of Marinette's forehead and jaw slowly outlined by silver as the moon crested the horizon. She'd twisted away slightly, looking down to rummage in her purse. The folded brim of her knit hat shadowed her eyes. The slight upturn at the tip of her nose plus the shape of her lips, glistening in the moonlight, made something in his chest spark to life. An epiphany hovered on the tip of his tongue, sweet and thick like creamy fondant oozing out of a milk chocolate shell. Instead of chasing the thought, Adrien released the pressure and looked away.
"Aha," Marinette pronounced with satisfaction as she pulled something out of her purse with a loud rustle. Holding out her hand, she offered him a cookie. "You can't go wrong with sugar," she said with a hopeful smile, pressing it closer to his face.
"Is it a macaron?" he asked as he took it from her fingers.
Her smile faltered, "Ah, no, sorry, just a sugar cookie."
Taking a bite, he felt butter and sugar disintegrate in his mouth. "It's good."
Smile restored, Marinette fished another out of her purse for herself. "Are macarons your favorite cookie, then?" she asked.
"They didn't used to be when I was a kid, but they are now," Adrien explained absently as he popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth and chewed, concentrating on the sweet flavor in a bid to make himself feel better and not fall back into numbness or despair.
"I've always loved macarons best, but only the ones my father makes," Marinette confided, looking away and shrugging self-consciously.
Just then, Carrie joined them. Marinette passed her a sugar cookie too. They munched in silence until the cab pulled up. As soon as they sat down in the warmth of the car, Adrien felt his body begin to crash. The pain in his head ebbed and flowed. He could barely keep his swollen eyes open. Between one blink and the next, Marinette disappeared from the cab.
"Adrien, wake up," Carrie said softly, shaking his shoulder. Opening his eyes, he realized that he'd fallen asleep on the drive to his house. "Hey there, kiddo," she said with a faint smile. "You should go inside and find your bed."
Shaking his head, he slid from the center of the seat to the door. "Yeah, I'll see you later," he said gruffly.
A touch on the shoulder stopped him. "I'd like that a lot," Carrie said earnestly. "You have my number now. I'd love to see you again. We could meet up at that place that makes those amazing cinnamon rolls with the buckets of frosting. If you want, that is," her fingers dropped from his shoulder. "Whatever you want, Adrien. I don't know if you can forgive me, but if you can, I'll do whatever you need me to do to make this better for you."
Pressing his lips together, he looked at the deep wrinkles on her forehead, the shadows in her eyes, and the gray-threaded copper of her hair. The grudge he'd been building in his gut drained away. In its place, he pulled on memories of long lunches with his mother, where Carrie would slip him crayons and cinnamon candies under the table when he'd get bored. Feeling young and vulnerable, he asked, "How about a hug goodbye, Aunt Carrie. Then next time, you can tell me more stories about my mother."
Giving him a trembling smile, she reached out and engulfed him in her arms. "Definitely." Sitting down, their heights weren't that different. It felt nice. "See you soon," she promised.
"Yeah," he agreed, breathing in the cinnamon scent of her hair for a moment before letting go. Adrien would see her again, no matter what his father wanted.
To be honest, he didn't know if he'd ever forgive his father for keeping the secret of his mother's fate from him. It hurt to know she was dead, but he also felt relief. He didn't have to hope anymore. Hope hurt. At least he could mourn now. Maybe someday he'd find some kind of peace. Someday.
If Gabriel hadn't been out of town on business, Adrien would have walked into his office and punched him in the face.
As it was, Adrien went up to his room, stripped off his clothes, and collapsed into bed. He thought the revelations of the day would keep him up, but he was too tired. As soon as his swollen eyelids closed, he fell asleep.
Although he woke up the next day with a sore throat as if he'd been screaming, at least he couldn't remember the details of his dreams. He did remember that his mother was dead. He'd have to grieve more over that later. Right now, though, he had to track his father down and finally make him talk.
AN: Warning: Discussion of mental illness, suicide attempt, and death.
Thank you so much for continuing on this journey with me. Reminder that my Indygodusk Tumblr has some pictures that go along with the story, like real-life casting and a picture of Chloe's jacket. The next few chapters are going to be intense. The next chapter starts the big events that will rock this universe and eventually lead us to the final showdown with Hawkmoth. However, soccer season has also started in my house. This means that I'm going to games on Saturdays instead of writing in the back corner of Chick-fil-a with my endless refills of Coke Zero. I have the next two chapters written, maybe three, but then the updates might slow down a bit. Nonetheless, I'll do my best! Please keep encouraging me with your awesome comments!
Next time on Anywhere, Adrien confronts his father, Marinette goes shopping at the mall with her mom, and Plagg's spell gets strained to the breaking point in the middle of a fight.