She lay there on the kitchen floor, taking in both her physical and emotional pain.

Her ribs ached where Lila had landed her blow and probably would for some time, as would her scalp.

Her hands and knees were scraped from her tumble down the palace stairs.

She knew her beautiful gown, the last gift of her mother, was now not only soaked and covered in mud, but torn as well from her falls to the ground.

It was taking every ounce of her self-control not to break down into tears then and there, but she didn't know if Lila was just waiting for that show of weakness to strike again.

She gingerly got up as she heard noise, holding her ribs carefully. The sound of the rain had lessened dramatically during the confrontation, and now she could hear loud voices from the front hall. Sabrina's high pitched soprano and Chloé's mezzo voices blended together in a chorus of contemptuous conversation, with only the slightest bit of Lila's tone as she listened to her daughter's complaints.

Marinette heard only snatches of it, but it was enough to confirm Lila's assurance.

"-what she was thinking? I mean, she practically attacked me for these stupid things, and then ran away!"

"You were right, mother - she was just a commoner trying to fool people into believing her story. I can't believe no one else noticed it!"

"What story? She didn't even tell anyone anything. No one knows anything about her, real or not. All that attention she was getting is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!"

Marinette knew that bells would be ringing for her soon, and was suddenly painfully aware that she was, in fact, still Ladybug in appearance. She looked around for her things, remembering that this had been the room in which she'd changed earlier in the day - was it really only a few hours ago? She looked around in yet another wave of panic, seeing no folded skirt and blouse in sight. She swallowed hard and turned to run up the stairs, only to drop to her knees again, clutching her side. Lila's blow had caused more injury than she realized, and her long flight away from the palace had caused both her legs and her bare feet to feel incapable of taking another step.

But she had to.

In the course of a split second, she had made up her mind. In fact, her mind had been made up for several hours, but for the first time she had the determination to do something about it.

She had been hurt in this house for too long. She might not be able to hurt her stepfamily back, but she would certainly make it so she herself would be out of their reach.

She knew her stepmother. If she had set her mind on breaking Marinette, on getting information out of her, no amount of subservience would be enough. And Marinette knew her stepmother - no matter how compliant she might act, wouldn't let go of her determination to discover exactly what she wanted to know. And in this moment, she wanted to know more about Chat Noir. That was the tool she would use to break her stepdaughter.

And Marinette would do anything to prevent it.

She mustered up all the strength she could and rose to her feet again, making for the stairway as quickly as she could without losing her footing. She clutched at the banister as she walked up the stairs, painfully aware of the passage of time, the work she should be doing. Was Lila down there telling the girls about her discovery even now?

She realized, with a certain feeling of calm, that while she couldn't truthfully say she didn't care, she knew it didn't matter anymore.

She reached the attic door and opened it gingerly, the tiniest bit of her disappointed to find the room empty, the rest of her too focused on trying to hide all evidence of her Ladybug persona as quickly as possible.

She tried not to look at the gown as she laid it across the bed, never minding the mud and grime being smeared across the threadbare quilt, but she saw it anyway. The skirt was still soaked and caked with mud, and the sleeves were frayed from her several falls throughout the evening. The waistline had been ripped by Lila's hurling her onto the floor, and Marinette was shocked to find that Lila hadn't noticed the thin silver chain around her neck holding the ruby pendant in place. She realized with a thrill of emotion that the pendant itself had managed to slip around her neck and now hung down her back, hidden by her dark hair. She was amazed that it hadn't been caught in Lila's hands as she had thrown her stepdaughter to the ground in the kitchen.

Marinette took it off with her trembling hands and tried to ignore the pain in her feet as she slipped them once more into her flat shoes, quickly donning the blouse and skirt Tikki must have set on the dresser. She had no sooner finished than she realized… no bells had been rung.

This immediately set her on edge, and she walked as quickly and quietly as she dared toward her stepfamily's bedrooms.

She paused as she reached the long hallway, wondering who would be least terrifying to bother, Chloé or Sabrina.

Chloé had asked for her trust, but had just as quickly lost it by wearing the earrings that night, not to mention she had enough clues to put the pieces together and match Ladybug with her mild-mannered stepsister.

Sabrina now seemed to be totally under the influence of Lila's misrepresentation, and was turning out to be just as capricious and hard to please as her sister ever had been.

Marinette just stood in the hall, waiting for a sound to reach her ears. A ring, a shout, even the sound of something being knocked over. Anything to tell her that her stepfamily was, in fact, still there, that she wasn't going completely insane after her trials.

No sound came from behind any of the three doors. Marinette crept as near to Sabrina's door as she dared, willing a sound to come to her, but still nothing.

Chloé's door, across the hall, was if possible even more silent.

Marinette reached the corner around which Lila's room was located, but couldn't bring herself to move any closer. She just stood there, listening for a moment, willing a sound to reach her.

And reach her it did. A series of clink-clink, clink, almost like the sound of a blacksmith's shop, except each sound was accompanied by a thump of different sound and depth.

It was the sound of glass on every article of furniture in the room in turn.

Marinette turned and ran, knowing even without seeing it that her stepmother was still angrily trying to break the glass shoe.

Past her stepsisters' doors, down the hall once more and then back up to her own room. She then slowed to a walk to save her aching feet and ribs, going as quickly as she dared without making a noise or injuring herself more. She felt her rib creaking as she climbed the last few stairs, but she knew she didn't have much time.

She had grabbed a large satchel as she passed the kitchen, and she instantly opened up her dresser drawers and began to stuff her few extra articles of clothing into the bag, along with the ruby necklace she had set on top of the dresser. She opened every drawer, knowing full well what she would find in them, until she got to the top drawer. As she reached for it, she knew once more what she would find, but it took a moment before she opened it and pulled out the red rose wrapped in a white cloth.

She shouldn't. She shouldn't take it with her. She knew she only had the ability to carry the essentials with her, but she still found herself slipping the rose into the bag, gently setting it in the folds of her second skirt. Then she straightened and looked around, trying to decide what else to bring with her.

She wished, oh how she wished she could take everything she wanted. But she was tied to a single satchel, and she only had room for a small parcel of sewing equipment and a spare candle and flint. Marinette also carefully folded the beautiful gown still sitting on her bed, wrapping it so that the muddy skirt would all be in one place and she could carry it without soiling her own white blouse or black corset.

Then she turned and pulled two small pieces of parchment out of her sewing box, along with a small quill and a tiny pot of ink, tightly sealed for safety.

On those two pieces of parchment, she quickly penned messages. She folded them up, setting one on the dresser and the other in her apron pocket. Then she looked down at herself and took off her apron, dropping it on the floor, setting the other note in the satchel and picking up the beautiful soiled gown.

Without another look, she left the room and closed the door silently.

Sneaking down to the kitchen, she left her things hidden a few steps above as she checked that it was deserted, then she fetched them and set them on the tables as she flitted around the room. Grabbing a leftover piece of bread, a few apples and a tin cup, she set them all in the satchel, then grabbed a dark grey cloak from a hook by the door. She slung the bag gently over her chest, careful not to let the weight settle over her bruised rib, wrapped the cloak around herself and pulled the hood over her dark hair before picking up the gown from the table. And then, once more without a glance behind her, she opened the kitchen door and stepped out into the night.

She stayed as close to the house as she could until she was out of sight of Lila's window, and even that wing of the house. She knew her cloak would shield her from most sight, but she wasn't taking any chances. The rain had mostly stopped by now, with just the slightest mist still left, and all that was left was the silence that comes only after rainfall. The silence that sounds like nothing could ever penetrate it again. Marinette's breathing alone sounded abnormally loud, and she was sure her footsteps could be heard by anyone who might be listening.

But no one was. The night was silent, punctuated only by the gentle drip-drip of raindrops rolling off of trees, grass, leaves and rocks. The ground was still wet, and Marinette's shoes were quickly soaked through, but she kept going, knowing now that she could walk barefoot if she needed.

She had to double back to get to the forest path, but she was quite sure of her destinations. She walked down the path as silently as she could, moonlight occasionally peeping out from being the rolling clouds and illuminating her pathway slightly even through the trees. She felt a sense of melancholy tiredness as she walked, knowing she'd never walk this path again, and feeling oddly saddened by it.

Her breath was coming in gasps and her rib aching more pronouncedly by the time she turned into the glade and saw the familiar pair of stones, the rosebush now fully blooming between them. Marinette walked toward them, breathing deeply and blinking back tears as she gently reached into the bag at her side and pulled out the roll of white cloth, unwrapped it and looked at the flower within. She reached for the rosebush between the headstones, still dripping with raindrops, and grasped the stem of the rose closest to her, gently bending it until it broke off. She set the second rose with the first and wrapped them up, tucking them back into the bag. Then she stood there, looking at the stones and the rosebush, wishing with all her heart her life could have been different. She allowed her tears to run down her face now, not great sobs of emotion like the last time she had come here, but rather almost a lack of emotion. As if she were saddened by the lack of sadness she felt at leaving her home.

After a few minutes, she took a deep breath and spoke two words before turning away, knowing it would probably be forever.

"I'm sorry."

She walked away from her parents without another glance. In contrast to leaving her home, this lack of backwards looks was rather because she knew that if she did look back, she might never leave.

She followed the path once more, coming out in the larger clearing with the tiny cottage. She was half afraid her old nurse might still be awake, but the lights in the house were all extinguished, and as Marinette moved closer, there once more wasn't a sound from within. Marinette crept as close as she dared and felt around in front of the door for a spot of ground that seemed to be less soggy than the rest of it, but had to settle for a small rock a few feet away from the house. Then she reached into her satchel and pulled out the second note, all the while fretting that Tikki would wake up and look out the window.

She set the once-beautiful gown on the stone, trying to avoid the spread of the mud, and set the parchment in its folds, placing it in such a way that it wouldn't blow away in the wind or be soaked through by the misty rain.

This time, she did look back at the little house. This house had fewer memories for her, fewer times of either happiness or sadness. It was rather the thought of losing the protection of the woman inside that almost made her choke and lose her resolve. She took one step forward, then froze.

She couldn't do it. No one must know where she was going.

Including her, she realized. While she had instinctively come this far, she had no idea where to go now.

She knew that Tikki would let her stay, but it would be the first place Lila might look for her if she knew, and she was putting Tikki in enough danger as it was. Not to mention, Tikki would try to keep her from going far.

It was too late to try to find a room at an inn or anything, and it wasn't as if Marinette had any money with which to do so.

She had no friends with whom she could stay, either. All of her friends had believed Lila's lies and were still believing her. She wouldn't be safe with any of them. And while she had found people who accepted her as Ladybug, not one of them would feel the same about plain old Marinette.

Then, the craziest idea suddenly entered her head. She dismissed it as almost laughable, had the situation not been so serious, but she couldn't quite dismiss it completely.

She couldn't possibly be thinking of trusting him, could she?

But she thought back to those few minutes when he had been by her side, walking with her in the rain, and she vaguely remembered the look on his face when he saw her again. And then she started walking toward the main road.

Marinette was someone who wanted to believe in second chances, no matter how much her instinct warned her against it. In so many cases, she had been proven wrong time and time again, and she sometimes felt she had lost her ability to trust again after that trust had been broken. But in this case, as she came out of the forest into the gently-sprinkling rain, she felt an odd mix of certainty that she could, in fact, trust him, coupled with an overwhelming realization that she didn't really have any other choice.

Hoisting her bag more firmly onto her shoulder, she started walking as quietly as she could down the road, away from the city. She hadn't come this way in quite some time, and she hoped she wasn't going to get lost within the first hour of running away from home. But she didn't have any cause for worry. She followed a particular direction until she saw a small house with the light still on, the figure inside silhouetted for her to see. She stopped for a moment, having second thoughts, but before she could do anything, the artist looked up and saw the stranger standing outside his door in the drizzling rain. He quickly opened it and gaped at her for a moment, then his eyes widened with recognition.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

Marinette smiled sadly.

"I'm so sorry to ask this, but please, could stay with you until it's light out?"

Nathaniel looked at her, taking in the bag, the cloak and the expression on her face. Then he nodded and opened up the door.

"Come on in."

So sorry I didn't post this yesterday, everyone! I really don't have an excuse... :-)

Anyway,, this concludes the last of the multiple postings - from here on out it'll be the one chapter per week until the end. But that's only, like, six or seven chapters away! I don't know what I'm going to do when I finish this story... Probably write another, if I'm being honest.

I wish I could say that I hope you enjoyed this, but in reality I don't think anyone did. I know these chapters are really depressing and upsetting, and I just want to promise again that there will be a happy ending. In any case, I hope you appreciated the content of the chapters, even if it was upsetting.

As always, I'll post the next chapter on Sunday - and I'll talk to you all then!