Chapter 26

"Dude, are they ok? Maybe we should call the nurse."

"Nah, they're just sleeping."

"Both of them? At the same time?"

"It's not like we're being quiet either! They both just passed out!"

"We really should call the nurse. Nino—"

Adrien blinked, unsure of his location, the time, or anything, really. "S-sorry," he moaned, rubbing the back of his neck and sitting up, "What's going on?"

Everyone laughed, despite him being perfectly serious. He rubbed his eyes into focus and saw Marinette sitting next to him in their familiar Humanities classroom. She had her hands pressed into the sides of her face and was rubbing little circles there.

"Sorry," Adrien repeated, "I don't know what happened."

Nino was laughing the loudest, "I never thought I'd see the day when Adrien goody-two-shoes Agreste falls asleep at his desk!"

"And at the same time as my girl!" Alya crowed.

"Do you have to be so loud?" Marinette whined. She adjusted her pigtails. Adrien ran his hand through his hair—his classic Chat Noir length hair—and then Marinette turned toward him. Their eyes met. The look on her face was indescribable. Something passed between them, a mutual understanding, a mutual remembering. The events of the last week swirled hazily in Adrien's memory, and he wasn't sure whether it had all been a dream or whether it had been real. Maybe both? Yes, both. But looking at Marinette, in that moment, reality was redefined. They had shared each other's soul, and no matter what had led to that, they would never be the same.

He tentatively reached across the table, toward her hand. She glanced at his fingers, then returned her eyes to his gaze. They touched, and electricity buzzed between them as powerfully as ever.

"Marinette," he whispered.

Her blue eyes sparkled with understanding, "Adrien."

"Oh, are we doing introductions now?" Chloe laughed from the other side of the room, "I'm Chloe, and you two are ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!"

The class laughed and started gathering their things to leave. Adrien didn't look away from Marinette's face to even check the time—it wouldn't have mattered if the whole world was on fire, he was never going to let her go again. Wait, was the world on fire? A hazy, smoky memory bubbled to the surface.

"Paris!" he gasped.

She smiled, "They're fine."

He relaxed. Nino clapped him on the back, and he jumped, jolting out of his reverie. "Hey, bro, I never heard back from you. You coming tonight?"

"Uh…" Adrien looked up at Nino, who was adjusting his ballcap. "What are we talking about?"

Nino guffawed and rolled his eyes, but it was Marinette who answered, "His party tonight. You… you asked me to go with you."

Adrien's head snapped back to Marinette who was blushing lightly. "And… and you said yes? Or was that not…?"

She smiled coyly, "I did say yes, didn't I."

Adrien grinned up at Nino, "Count us both in."

"Excellent."

"But, I should check in at home," Adrien remembered with a pain in his stomach.

Nino nodded, "Sounds good, say hi to Gorilla for me."

Marinette smiled, stood, and took Adrien's hand, "Hey, want to come on a walk with me?"

"Yes."

Alya's jaw fell to the floor, "Wait, what in the world is going on with you two?"

Marinette shrugged, squeezed Adrien's hand, and marched them out of the room. Once on the staircase, Adrien laughed. "You know we're both going to get cornered for this."

She giggled, "Definitely." She didn't say anything more, she just guided them out of the emptying school, across the street, around the corner, and to the park bench that seemed to be calling out to them. They sat down, watching the pigeons pecking at the ground in front of them. She cozied up to his left side, gripping his bicep with her right. "Adrien," she finally whispered, "what do you remember?"

He thought for a while, "You… you're… I mean… I love you." Of anything, of all the strange, disorienting memories that continued to swirl just out of grasp, the only thing that was real, the only thing steady was his overwhelming love for this incredible girl by his side. "I love you, and I'll never give up on you," he repeated.

She looked up, "That's what I remember too. I love you. I love you… Ch-Chat Noir."

His heart triple-timed a rhythm against his ribcage, but then, everything became clear. Their eyes met again. "That's right. I love you, Ladybug."

He cupped her cheeks in his hands, her brilliant bluebell eyes swallowing him whole. His fingers ran over her ears and to the tiny earrings on her lobes. He leaned in, feeling her breath wash over him, ready for the moment—

"Finally! I'm so glad I don't have to live in your jacket pocket all the time! Ladybug's purse is so much roomier!" Marinette gasped and pulled back to look at the black kwami that had just phased through Adrien's pocket.

"Plagg!" Tikki's voice interjected, "You're totally ruining their moment! Don't you realize how much they've been through together? Let them have just a little peace!"

Plagg shook his head, "No way. You just love it whenever our holders fall in love and get all mushy."

Tikki sighed, "Well, it is terribly romantic—"

"Tikki!" Marinette gasped.

"Oh, sorry," Tikki giggled as Plagg tackled her and headed to Marinette's purse.

"Seriously," the black cat kwami growled, "you're way worse than me. I only interrupt their gross moments, not sit back to watch…"

The two disappeared into the purse and Marinette and Adrien broke into hysterics. They laughed with their foreheads together until Adrien's eyes watered. Finally, their eyes met once more, and the electricity buzzing between them reached a fever pitch.

"Well, if it's a show Tikki wants, a show she'll get," Adrien smirked, then leaned in and kissed Marinette so passionately that even Tikki's ladybug-red-cheeks would flush.

The mansion was quiet when Adrien held his breath and walked through the front doors. Once inside, though, it wasn't as bad as he had been expecting. He walked to his father's atelier and boldly knocked on the door. The sound echoed dully. After a minute, he knocked again, then tested the knob. It was unlocked, so he entered hesitantly. "F-father?" but even as the word passed his lips, swirling memories of Hawkmoth's face surrounded by purple flames cropped up and he knew his Father would not be in the atelier.

The room was clean and had a quasi-reverent feel to it. The desk had been freshly organized, the furniture was warm, even the tile design that had once looked like butterflies to him now was only a design. It wasn't different, Adrien noted, it just didn't carry the same haunted gravitas that it once had. The portrait of his mother was different, however. He walked forward to study it. The colors and shapes were the same, but she was smiling softly. She looked so peaceful. Adrien knew what he needed to do, though, and gently placed his fingers in the slots that would activate the elevator.

There was nothing but canvas and the textured paint. Adrien pulled his fingers back in alarm, then stepped even closer to inspect it. He lifted the back of the painting and there was only wall. Surprised, Adrien checked behind the other painting where Gabriel's safe had been hidden, and there was nothing there either. Finally, Adrien got to his hands and knees and felt the edges of the floor tile for any hint of the elevator's whereabouts. Eventually, he was forced to conclude that the elevator, and by extension, Hawkmoth's lair, was gone.

He sat on the floor with his back against the desk and looked up at the art deco painting. His mother's tender smile rained down on him. The memories swirled forward forcefully.

The airport tarmac was flanked with lines of people in black, all holding umbrellas to keep the soft rain at bay. Adrien didn't want an umbrella. His mother and he had always shared a connection through the rain. He lifted his face to the sky and let the water pour over his eyelids and hair. They rolled her coffin through the lines of people. Everyone was weeping, except Adrien. He was grateful—grateful that she hadn't suffered, grateful that he'd had the chance to say goodbye before they left for Tibet, grateful that she was at peace.

Once the coffin had passed, Adrien and Gabriel followed behind. Gabriel growled beneath his breath, "I will avenge her, if it is the last thing I do."

"Father?" Adrien asked, looking up at the older man, "She wouldn't want you to be angry. Her death was a tragic accident."

Gabriel's gaze was fixed forward. Adrien knew he was still upset and probably would be for years. But Adrien promised himself that he would live his life to honor his mother and not give in to despair and bitterness.

That's right, Adrien thought as warmness filled his chest, she died in an accident in Tibet when I was thirteen. We mourned her, we laid her to rest, and my father was angry. That's what happened. Gabriel had changed then, and Adrien remembered becoming Chat Noir in his mother's honor and fighting Hawkmoth, a man bent on revenge.

There was another memory, one that was foggier and more distant than the memories of his mother's funeral… almost as if it were a dream, or a different lifetime—his mother locked in a tube, his father working to heal her—but even as he thought about it, it slipped further and further away. That may have happened once, but—his Miraculous glowed softly—not anymore.