Fuck.
Chapter 11: Scream
'Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq...'
As Marinette's arch nemesis fed off of her anger and sadness to control her body, she discovered that there was very little she could do to manage this situation—if she was really able to manage anything at all.
'...Six, sept, huit, neuf, dix...'
Deep inside her, there was still a small spark of... whoever she used to be. There was a small fraction of her mind that was still self aware. It should have been impossible, really, but Marinette guessed that she'd always been a stubborn girl. It was one of her worst faults; Ladybug never quite knew when to give up, did she?
Well, now would be a great time. Letting go of reality and embracing akumatization sure would save her from a lot of suffering. And she was really tired of that.
Besides, she wasn't even Ladybug anymore. That happy, friendly, hopeful hero she once was felt so far out of reach. That girl was lost forever now, lost in the sea of darkness.
There was nothing left to lose. Everyone she could possibly let down was already let down. Nobody needed her, nobody really ever had.
But, for some reason, the ember glowed, and she was forced to beat on.
'...Neuf, huit, sept...'
In her captivity, Marinette was constantly assaulted by images of what she—no, the akuma—was doing to Paris. She was only catching flashes and glimpses, blurred and hazy, like she was looking through the lens of a camera that was shaking too fast. She couldn't make out faces, places, or voices, but she hated every second of it.
blood bugs death screams bugs rain crack black screams bugs bugs—
'...Six, cinq, quatre...'
She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't cry. And she couldn't do a fucking thing to fix this.
'...Trois... deux...'
So she counted.
'...Un, deux, trois...'
Marinette knew she was stuck. She had relinquished complete control of her body to Hawk Moth, and there was nothing she could do, or anyone could do, to get it back. Counting was the only way she could pull her mind away from Hawk Moth's voice and the akuma's influence. She could only try to ignore the terrible things Hawk Moth was doing with her akumatized powers, try to ignore the fact that he was tearing down her city with her own two hands.
She just wanted it to stop stop stop.
'...Quatre, cinq...'
Was this all she was ever going to be? A monster? A destroyer? She liked it better when she was dead.
'...Six, sept...'
She was hopeless. Powerless. Done.
'...Huit, neuf...'
She was Disenchanted, now.
'...Dix—'
There's a red and black spotted suit emerging from the foliage—
Marinette's heart skipped a beat.
The image was so fleeting that she thought she imagined it. Afterall, she wasn't in a very reliable state of mind. She could be so far gone that her brain was hallucinating the things she hoped for the most.
But then it reappeared.
Ladybug rushing towards her, yo-yo spinning to deflect ladybugs, feet splashing up mud as she runs—
No, that was real. It had to be.
For a second, Marinette was actually happy. She never thought she'd see that suit again. That must mean that Alya got her miraculous, and that Chat must be around, too, and maybe something could finally be done to stop this.
But then she remembered—this wasn't their fight. They weren't supposed to be here. This wasn't anybody's fight but her own. She couldn't risk losing them, not like this.
And then she realized.
Soaked blond hair, narrowed green eyes, teeth grit in anger or fear or both—
This was not Alya.
It was a boy. A very familiar boy.
He bursts through the swarm, yo-yo swinging, and slows to a stop right across from her. She shoots ladybugs at him, but instead of protecting himself, he drops his arms limply to his sides, opening himself up as a target. His yo-yo slips through his fingers and falls to the mud, surrendering himself to the akuma's will. The bugs keep flying, circling him like vultures, flocking like crows, biting at any exposed skin they can reach, but his eyes no longer betray fear—
He was trusting her.
What a stupid, stupid thing to do.
Marinette tried to scream, tried to tell him to get away before she hurt him or killed him or worse, but she couldn't. She tried to control her hands, tried to make sure they wouldn't blast him, but she couldn't. She tried to run, but there she stayed.
Her hand stretches out just centimeters from his face, glowing purple in warning of the swarm to come. But he's just standing there, blood on his face, tears in his eyes, unmoving, unflinching, unafraid—
And he smiles, wide and happy, bright and dazzling, as if they weren't standing on a battlefield, in the thick of a storm, the weight of the whole world sitting right on their shoulders. As if they weren't fighting for everything and about to lose it all.
Then, he speaks:
"Marinette, it's me. It's Chat Noir. Do you remember me?"
His voice was hoarse, as if he had been shouting, or crying, or both, and quiet, as if he was telling a secret just for her ears. But it was undoubtedly, wholeheartedly her partner's voice. Marinette felt chills crawl up her spine.
When the akuma doesn't say anything, Chat steps closer to her, even though her hand remains poised in place. "I know you're in there. I need you to listen to me, okay?"
"No," the akuma whispers venomously.
It was the first time the akuma had ever spoken. The word sounded so toxic and cruel, and Marinette hated that it was through her own voice, her own lips.
"Marinette isn't here," the akuma continues, and she grins darkly, expressing any emotion on her face for the first time. "It's just Disenchanted, now."
'No, I'm here,' Marinette thought desperately in response, even though Chat couldn't hear her, and Disenchanted was ignoring her. She felt her heart ache in her chest. 'But you shouldn't be.'
Chat Noir is visibly shaken by the akuma's words, but he doesn't let the revelation set him back. He doesn't acknowledge that the akuma had spoken at all; he doesn't give her the satisfaction.
"I know you don't want this," he says, speaking directly to Marinette, only Marinette. Ever so slightly, his voice is shaking. "I know you would never have done any of this on purpose. Nobody blames you for anything, Marinette. They know this isn't you, this isn't Ladybug."
"You don't know me," Disenchanted seethes. "You don't get to say what I would or wouldn't do, what I want or don't want—!"
"Yes, I do," Chat says determinedly. He steps even closer, and her hand never strays. His words are not accusatory, but gentle, understanding. "This isn't what you want, is it?"
In favor of replying, she cries, "Go away!", and the blast shoots from her hand.
Chat looks startled, as if he hadn't expected her to actually attack him. He's forced to drop to the ground and tumble away before his face is skinned off. He lifts his head off the grass, revealing to have mud in his hair and blood gushing from his left nostril. The bugs swerve after him, so he has to grab his yo-yo off the ground to shield himself again.
"Get the miraculouses," Hawk Moth echoed in her mind. "Nobody will ever be able to stop us!"
'Un deux trois quatre—'
"I know you're scared!" Chat cries, his voice barely audible over the buzzing. He's still attempting to get through to her. She shoots the bugs after him, but he leaps out of the way again. Still, too focused on not dying, he can't finish what he has to say.
It turns out even a super akuma has its limits. Having summoned so many ladybugs throughout the day, it's getting hard to control them all at one time. Some of them are starting to fall to ground, unable to function. Little by little, the hoard grows smaller and smaller.
Frustrated, and starting to grow alarmed, Disenchanted frantically shoots the bugs after Chat as fast and violently as she can, hoping they can catch up to him. He can only use his shield and reflexes to protect himself, but with the amount of bugs chasing him significantly lowering, he manages to outskill them.
Sooner than expected, the ladybugs run out of juice. The last of them peter off and drop to the ground. Disenchanted screams and snaps her arm up, attempting to summon ladybugs to do her dirty work, but nothing comes out.
"Don't let him escape!" Hawk Moth cried, clearly not expecting this either. "Go after him!"
The akuma gets in a threatening stance, but Chat drops his arms, once again surrendering. Disenchanted growls in frustration. "Fight me, you coward!"
"I don't want to fight you," Chat says, his voice out of breath, but gentle. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Disenchanted lets out a hollow chuckle. "Tough luck." And she charges.
The akuma rams straight into Chat, causing him to fly off his feet and slam into a tree. He groans and blinks his eyes open blearily, but he doesn't try to get up. Disenchanted lifts him up by the front of his suit and throws him back against the tree. She hears a loud crack, although it's unclear if it was from him or the tree. He doesn't make a sound.
'Cinq six sept huit neuf—'
She's about to grab him again and throw him back against the tree, when she sees Chat look her in the eyes. He's clearly in pain, but instead of having accepted his fate, he looks hopeful. Hopeful that she'll stop, hopeful that he'll break through to her, hopeful that there's still a chance, that there was ever one to begin with.
So fucking stupid.
The akuma steps forward, about to lift him up again. But his gaze is unwavering, and the akuma finds herself inexplicably frozen. Hawk Moth is yelling at her to move, move, but she's trapped in those green eyes, in Marinette's pain and love for her partner, and—she's frozen.
Seeing that she's faltering, Chat takes this as the opportunity to speak. "Marinette, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm never going to leave your side, not now, not ever. You, only you, are my partner, and nothing will ever change that. I promise, we're going to get through this." He stretches out his hand to her. "Together."
There was a tedious relief following Chat's soothing words. The chains on her arms and legs slowly loosened up, and the weight on her body began to lift. She could see light begin to fracture through the dark sea, and muffled sounds started to beat against her ear drums. Warmth seeped under her skin, air trickled into her lungs. The world was starting to form shape around her once again.
"He's lying to you," Hawk Moth lied to her. "You know nobody cares about you anymore. You ruined their lives! You'll never be redeemed! You want revenge, justice!"
'No, I don't, I don't,' she thought despairingly. But a trickle of doubt was all Hawk Moth needed to push her back under; the chains tightened as quickly as they'd loosened, and her senses completely faded to nothingness, emptiness. She tried in vain to search for another glimpse of Chat, just a smile or a word or a breath, but all she got was silence. Everything had gone back to cold and dark and lonely and utterly terrifying.
"See? Don't try to fight me. You'll never win."
'Stop it stop it stop it stop it—'
...
"Stop it!" she yelled, dropping Chat from her hold. He stumbled backwards against the tree, and Marinette grasped her head in her hands, as if trying to squeeze Hawk Moth's presence from her brain.
And then she realized.
Disenchanted wasn't in control.
...
Marinette looked down. She was standing in a crater of dirt, covered in mud and grass and adorned in a black and white knock off ladybug costume. Somewhere along the way, she had lost her shoes and socks and was now standing barefoot in the mud. Her hair was loose and plastered to her neck, and her hands were tingling with phantom power, as if they still believed she could shoot man-eating insects at her command. Oddly enough, she couldn't feel any pain anywhere, even though she saw blood and cuts and bruising. She didn't know what to think about that. (Or, rather, she didn't want to.)
Around her, however, was total chaos.
Trees were uprooted from the ground, some thrown pretty far from where they'd grown. Most of the lawn's grass had been pulled from the ground and tossed around. The museum roof was caved in, and the front of the building was trashed. Windows were broken and statues were severely dismembered. It looked as if a tornado had passed through.
If she'd done this much damage to one area, she couldn't imagine what she'd done to innocent civilians.
Marinette was shaking. She took a step backwards, staring in horror at the destruction. Realizing something was different, Chat slowly ascended to his feet. He approached her timidly. "...Marinette?"
"NO! NO! LISTEN!" Hawk Moth roared.
An excruciating wave of pain crashed through her head as she resisted his temptation. Marinette cried out and clutched her head, and tears leaked from her eyes. "No... no... please..."
Chat seemed to have caught on to what was happening. He stumbled forward and reached out for her. "Fight him, Marinette!" he encouraged. "You can do it, I know you can!"
She shook her head, which only made the pain worse. "I can't," she sobbed.
"You're stronger than you think," he said. "I meant every word I said, Mari—"
"Stop," she snapped, tears leaking down her face. She stepped back from him and turned her back to him. "You can't be here! You can't around me! I don't—I don't know how long I can hold him off." When he didn't move, she spelled it out for him. "Go away Chat!"
Chat slowly stepped forward, his tone soft. "My Lady—"
"Don't call me that!" She spun around to face him again, her teary red eyes boring into him. "I'm not yours! I'm not anyone's! Don't you understand?" Her voice and body and everything was shaking. "I can't be around here anymore. I'm a danger to everybody. Look what I'm capable of. I'm too weak to be a hero. I—" She clenched her eyes shut, squeezing out tears. "I failed.
"I can't go back," her voice cracked. She turned her back to him, inching further away. "I can't face my family or my friends or—or anybody. I've hurt them all and I'll only hurt them more so just—get away from me. Please."
She couldn't see his face, but Chat remained silent for a long time. Marinette expected herself to feel regret, because she knew that Chat didn't deserve her anger. She could never be angry at him, not ever, not really.
But instead, she just felt empty.
Hawk Moth was still an agonizing force at the edge of her mind, ready at any second to eclipse her consciousness and turn her back into a murder machine. She could hear his voice in her ear, could feel his presence looming over her, coaxing her to submit herself back to his power. "Come with me. Give in. Give in. Give in."
She was shaking and sweating and sobbing with the effort to ward him off, but slowly but surely, she could feel herself starting to slip under.
But before she could slip too far, Chat stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. Too numb and scared to fight him off, she allowed him to turn her body to face him. Her ex-partner's eyes were filled with sadness, but he still managed to tug his mouth into a reassuring smile. "Hey, hey, it's okay, breathe, breathe."
'Undeuxtroisquatre—DAMN IT—'
"I can't," she moaned, and she hated how pitiful she sounded.
Seeing that Marinette was on the brink of going under again, Chat let go of her shoulder. He reached a gloved hand into one of his pockets, and pulled out a folded piece of knitted blue fabric.
When Chat unraveled it, recognition jarred her, like a ton of bricks landing on her head. Her sobbing squeaked to a halt.
He didn't meet her eyes. "I tried to tell you, back at school. Before everything fell apart." He flipped over the scarf and pointed to her signature with a trembling finger. "I found your name stitched along the seam."
Marinette couldn't remember how to breathe. Pain stabbed her mind over and over.
Chat cleared his throat before he continued. "I felt guilty, and embarrassed, that it took me so long to figure it out, and that you never got the thanks you deserved. But I... was also confused," he wrapped his fingers around the scarf, "because, how could someone possibly be so—so thoughtful and selfless that she would go through so much effort to make me happy, knowing she would get absolutely nothing in return?"
Chat clenched the scarf in his fists, and he looked at her, his eyes welling up. "And then suddenly, it wasn't just the scarf. I thought about everything you've done for our class, for your friends—and, now, Paris. And I... I was—am—so angry at myself, because I'd always known you were brave, and humble, and beautiful, and kind, but I'd never seen how extraordinary you were. And—just—how could I have been so blind?"
Marinette was deathly quiet. At this point, she had figured out what what the implications of Chat's speech were, and if she thought she was stunned before, this was a whole new kind of shock.
Chat must have felt uncomfortable under her disbelieving stare, but his eyes didn't stray from hers for even a second. He let out a shuddering breath. "So, what I wanted to say was, thank you, Marinette. Thank you for opening my eyes."
And then, there was a flash of pink light, and Chat wasn't in Ladybug's suit anymore. Adrien stood in his place, wearing the same watery smile and holding the same blue scarf.
And Marinette burst into tears.
His smile started to fall. "Oh, Marinette..." he started.
Marinette launched herself onto Adrien, and wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could. Adrien stumbled slightly, but it didn't take long for him to regain his balance and wrap his arms around her as well.
He held her close and buried his face in her hair, her body trembling in his hold as she sobbed into his neck. It was the tightest, warmest hug she'd ever received, and she never wanted him to let her go. She didn't think he could if he tried.
'It's Adrien. My Adrien. My beautiful Adrien.'
She didn't know how long they stood there, relishing the feeling of being able to hold each other, but eventually her crying subsided enough for her to be able to regain her composure.
"Adrien..." she whispered, so quietly he almost didn't hear it. She hiccuped. "Wh-What do we do now?"
Reluctantly, he pulled her back from his chest so he could look her in the eyes. "Give me the akumatized object. I'll free the akuma."
Marinette nodded shakily. She patted her sides until she found her purse, wrapped around her waist like her yo-yo. She was about to pull it off, but the moment she touched it, her brain was overwhelmed with white hot agony.
She screamed. Adrien yelled her name, but the world was muffled again, and everything was gone, gone, gone.
...
The water engulfed her, cold and icy, deep and unforgiving—
Adrien is enveloped in pink light, transforming back into Ladybug—
The shackles wrapped around her arms, legs, waist, neck—
Disenchanted wakes with a howl and summons her ladybugs, bigger and badder and more powerful than ever—
Marinette couldn't hear or see or breathe and she was drowning, drowning, drowning, down, down, down—
—And Adrien snaps the purse off her waist, and Disenchanted lets out a dying scream.
She falls to her knees, defeated.
It happened like clockwork. Marinette's shackles snapped and crumbled away. Her skin prickled and the water around her glowed with warm energy. Her ears rung and her eyes stung and Hawk Moth was screaming at her, screaming, "No, no, NO!"
She could feel him trying to drag her back, and he was strong, powerful, convincing, and she was still broken, scared, vulnerable. But she had faith, and she had love, and she had Adrien's hand, reaching out for her.
'Undeuxtroisquatrecinqsixsepthuitneuf—'
...
—And then there was light.
...
Marinette gasped for air, as if she were a fetus breathing outside the womb for the first time. Adrien grabbed her by her shoulders to keep her upright. She blearily looked up to see Adrien staring at her, his green eyes opened wide.
The lawn was repaired. The ditch was gone. The trees were upright. The building was good as new. She was dressed back in her dirty clothes. And the world was quiet.
"You did it," she whispered.
Adrien laughed, tears in his eyes. "No, you did."
Marinette smiled for the first time in far too long.
But then her eyelids drooped, and suddenly she felt extremely lightheaded. She struggled to remain standing, but after a few seconds she fell to her knees, mud spraying her face. She coughed into the dirt, causing blood to drip from her lips onto the grass. Before she could contemplate how all her injuries were catching up to her, she collapsed against the ground, her body shuddering violently. All she felt was pain, burning, scorching, tearing her apart—
"Marinette!" Adrien cried, dropping to his knees beside her. He tugged the earrings out of his ears and slipped the ring on his finger.
"Plagg, claws out!"
Marinette watched Adrien transform into Chat Noir. Even in her state of delirious pain, she marvelled at how both loves of her life were the same boy.
(Maybe this could work out, huh?)
Chat lifted Marinette into his arms. His eyes were wide with fear, but his voice was reassuring as always. "We're going to get you to the hospital, okay?"
She was too weak to reply.
"It's okay. You're gonna be okay. I got you."
Marinette closed her eyes.
"I love you."
...
The world faded away again.
But this time, she would not be afraid.
...
...
11/15 chapters done whoot
uhhhh it's been a whole year since my last update and I'm A Bad Person.
i'm sorry my friends, i swear i'll finish this fic or perish trying.
also: it's been like two years since i started this fic (wtffff) so i'm gonna go back and edit the hell out of previous chapters. i'll leave a note at the top of each chap i update.
thanks, as always, for being awesome :D
