Jan 10th

Collège Françoise Dupont

First period

"How's your father doing?" Marinette asks.

"He's not all there," Adrien exclaims. "He's still trying to grasp reality and those coma dreams he talks about bother him. Yesterday I grabbed his hand and held it and forced him to remember where he was. I'll squeeze it as tight and as long as I have to until he stops crying. He couldn't even grasp my hand on his own."

"Father, whatever it is you're going through I'm here." Adrien says, in a firm voice. Even when he knows Gabriel bites back another slight hiccuping sob. Gabriel clings onto his son's hand, white knuckled. He wrestles with consciousness that he manages to slip out of once again and Adrien wonders if he was better off calling for a nurse to handle him and he screams and pleads with him to remember until he quiets down. Searching his father's worried eyes for recognition was becoming an exhaustive routine. No doubt Gabriel was just as eager for a shred of sanity as he was. Long after those episodes Gabriel experiences he walks into the white hallway. Wrung out and exhausted, he sobs loudly, wet strangled sobs that shook his shoulders and carried away those grieving echoes that reached the ears of medical staff.

"I-I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong!" he screams inside of his mind. "I can't fix it if he doesn't say anything! I can't help him! Father, what is your son supposed to do if you don't tell me what's wrong?"

"It's pretty normal for comatose patients to feel that way," Alya says, after skimming through most of Gabriel's notes. "It might be a few months or even years until he's grounded back into reality but it's really nothing to be worried about."

"Look on the bright side," Nino says, trying to lighten the mood. "Your old man could write an entire novel with those notes alone." Alya promptly cuffs him around the back of his head. Scolding him for being such an idiot.

"I think a visit might do him some good." Marinette suggests.

"You'd think it might help him out?" Alya says. She quirked an eyebrow above her glasses.

"Sometimes someone's presence alone is helpful." Marinette points out.

"I think that's a great idea," Adrien says, with a watery smile. "Maybe someone else can help take his mind away from the nurses' visits. Sometimes he's a deer caught in the headlights when they wake him up for assessments or even taking his blood pressure."


"I'm sure Gabriel will mind your company." Nathalie says, over Marinette's smartphone.

"It's no problem, Mrs. Agreste." Marinette says, cheerfully. "Recovery isn't like what movies try to make us believe. It takes a lot of hard work. You don't just stand up and suddenly leave the hospital."

"But please," Nathalie warned them. "Be patient and above all be very careful. His worldview has a habit of shattering and then he's forced to pick up those pieces again."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Agreste,"Alya says, speaking loudly, she had barged into the conversation, eclipsing Marinette's voice. "There's nothing a little teamwork can't accomplish. Will chill out and maybe watch some television, nothing strenuous."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Will be real quiet."

"I'm sure you will."

"Promise."


Hospital Group Diaconesses Croix Saint-Simon

"Mr. Agreste." Marinette says, quietly. "Are you awake?" she rapped gently on the door before stepping inside of the room when Gabriel supplied her with no answer.

"I'm awake." Gabriel wheezes out.

Surprisingly, he was lucid. Marinette breathed a soft sigh of relief. "We're friends of Adrien. We heard about the accident and wanted to visit." she announces. The room was dim, yet sterile and clean. She could only hear the slow, steady beats of the heart monitor as Marinette and Gabriel shared a pause between them before Gabriel speaks up again. Her hopeful gaze did not go unnoticed.

"Ladybug?" Gabriel asks, in a breathy albeit trembling voice.

"Marinette," she kindly amends. "My name is Marinette. I admit I do like ladybugs a lot," she exclaims. She did owe him some kind of explanation."They are supposed to be lucky charms, aren't they? You know what someone once told me about ladybugs when I was a kid? If one lands on you, you should count the spots. The spots are supposed to indicate how many months you have until your wish comes true. But I'm getting ahead of myself."

A soft chuckle rolled off of Gabriel's tongue. "Marinette," he says, nervously. "That's right, you are Marinette. I'm having some trouble matching names to faces."

"It's no trouble at all if Ladybug is easier for you to remember."

"Marinette is your given name. It would be like calling my son Adrien Chat Noir. Given how many times I forgotten my own son's name this past week. It feels like I'm not making any real progress. It's quite maddening."

"I wouldn't go saying that. Adrien told me you can finally eat solid foods again." Marinette says, confident in her assumptions. She makes a gesture at the over bed table where his empty tray of food was laid.

"I admit," Gabriel says. He glares at the pristine, white bed sheets over his lap. "Adrien arrived much earlier than you probably expected," his voice had weakened. Something Adrien told Marinette to expect if he ever speaks far too much before it suddenly drops to a whisper. He barely has enough strength to breath on his own. "I couldn't finish my meal so I gave the rest of it to him before I sent him back home," he exchanges a conspiratorial expression back to Marinette, and another brief pause after a few seconds of hesitation. "He has been eating lately? Never mind his bedridden father but he needs something far more substantial."

"Yeah, he has been." Alya says. She strides past Nino to where her friend Marinette was standing near Gabriel's bedside. "He eats everything his mom makes for him during lunch," she places a hand to her hip. "I know he looks threadbare but it's not like he's skipping lunch or anything. He's just worried."

"A strong, healthy appetite is something I'm really grateful for. I'm afraid one day he'll worry himself sick over me."

More silence. And another moment passes.

"That's what his friends are for," Nino tells him. "Bros gotta stick together, amirite?" Gabriel is taken aback.

"Both of us could really use some much needed stability." Gabriel says in a breathless voice.

"You got plenty of time to sort it out," Nino says, with forced optimism. "Sleep on it, everything will eventually resolve itself. You just gotta give it some time."

"Just take it easy, sir." Alya says, she laughs out in agreement. "Adrien only has one dad." Perhaps it's rather redundant, but it does it does bear repetition. She notice's Gabriel's vacant stare. His mind must be drawing blanks right now. She does not expect an immediate response knowing he's still dealing with a traumatic brain injury.

"Sometimes," Gabriel says, defensive, and then "Some-some of the times it is easier speaking to my wife or even Adrien and other days-" he fell quiet trying to probe for the right words to use. Marinette stepped closer. She had sensed the difficulty Gabriel was handling such a personal subject. She waited patiently for him to continue. "Those dreams upset my son and I am truly sorry for burdening him. Sometimes it feels as though I'm living in another reality. We're worlds apart and all I'm able to hear is Adrien screaming my name even when we're in the same room together."

"What were those dreams like?" Alya asks.

"The dreams?" Gabriel says. His sentence ends in a soft, painful groan. "I can't say a lot about them but in those dreams I was aware of an existence. Those dreams held no meaning or emotions connected to my suffering. And oftentimes I'd recall the void," he's referring to the time he spent comatose. "It's a lot like when you've fallen asleep and then suddenly you're bolted forward in time."

"That's heavy, dude." was all Nino could say in response.

"You really think so?" Gabriel says, choking back a sob.