Hey! I hope you guys are all holding up okay, especially any readers from Ukraine. I know it does nothing, but sending virtual hugs to anyone who wants them during such a difficult time. If any of you need someone to talk to, feel free to pm me. Again, it may not mean much, but to every one of you, from those evacuating to those sheltering to those protesting or fighting, I want you to know that my thoughts are with you and that I'm looking into ways to help.
Thank you for every fav, follow, review, and casual read so far. To the guest reviewer (I'm assuming you're the same person as last time; please correct me if I'm wrong), thank you again! I hope you like what I have to offer this time, too. :) Sorry this chapter's on the later side of 2/25; it still needed quite a few finishing touches and I was short on time.
Last time on A Mother's Love: Chat Noir goes for a run to let off some steam; Adrien shares some bonding time with Plagg and Gil before he and Plagg plan their next steps to address the Shadow Moth situation and begin putting it into action.
Now, please enjoy chapter 3, "The Pain of a Son."
The following morning, Adrien woke to soft grey strands of light seeping through the curtains' cracks. He'd taken advantage of his father's absence to sleep in after an exhausting week. The midnight trip to stash his note to Ladybug had him returning through folds of darkness and bitter cold, so he'd stayed up long enough to warm up with a hot shower before finally getting to sleep.
Adrien was reluctant to leave the cozy comfort of his bed. Clutching his Ladybug blanket closer to his chest, he snuggled deeper into his pillows before abruptly shooting upright.
"Plagg! What have I told you about eating camembert in bed?" he exclaimed, wiping the gooey cheese off his face in a mad dash to the bathroom. "Gross," he groaned. His reflection grimaced back at him in dismay. Together, they watched a clump of cheese splatter against the counter in reply.
Plagg only cackled harder in the background.
. . .
Adrien emerged from the bathroom fully dressed but still toweling off his face some thirty minutes later. He promptly chucked said towel in the direction of the kwami who'd dissolved into further hysterics at the sight of his holder.
"What was that for?" Adrien demanded.
"Well, you did tell me yesterday that I needed to work on 'controlling my destruction,' and I'd say that was nothing short of perfection," Plagg snickered, spinning to float upside down in front of Adrien's newly de-cheesed face.
Thoroughly unamused with Plagg's levity, Adrien leveled his kwami with a furious glare. "I thought we were having a serious conversation about dealing with the fact that my father seems to be Shadow Moth. I thought you were actually listening to me, not hunting for opportunities to twist my words just to mess with me. Is this all just some sort of game to you? Do you not understand how hard this has been for me?" he shouted.
Plagg sobered up almost immediately.
"Adrien-"
"How naive of me, to think you'd actually give a damn about what I'm feeling. I should've known better than to rely on you."
Plagg's face dropped further. "I-"
"I don't want to hear it," he snarled. "I can't believe I thought you were going to help me. You're no better than my father. Neither of you cares for me beyond what I can do for you."
"That's not true at all!" Plagg protested. He looked horrified at the accusation, but Adrien remained unconvinced by his kwami's objections.
"Oh, please. You haven't gone a day since I met you without whining for more camembert. It wouldn't kill you to be a little grateful for once, but all I get is feedback on things I'm doing wrong. I do everything I can just to make you happy, but no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I give you, it's never enough!"
An electric silence buzzed between them until Plagg darted up to hug Adrien's cheek.
"I'm sorry, Adrien. I should've realized that a prank was the last thing you'd want right now. You've been through a lot in the past couple of days, and there's no sign of things letting up anytime soon. I thought it would take your mind off everything, but I've only made it worse. I'm so sorry, Adrien," Plagg said.
"I . . . I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't've lashed out at you like that. You've already made this whole ordeal far more manageable just by being here," Adrien said. He hugged Plagg closer, eyes stinging.
"It's okay, Adrien. I'm the one that pushed you over the edge in the first place. But I meant every word I said. I will be here for you, for anything you need. I love you for who you are, kid - the person with the kindest heart and the best holder I've ever had. You've been more than enough for me from the second you opened that box. It was never about the cheese - that's just a lucky bonus," Plagg told him.
"Really?" he asked.
"Really," Plagg said.
"I love you, too, y'know. You mean the world to me, and I never want to know what my life would've turned into without you in it."
"And you'll never have to as long as I have any say in the matter. Now, much as I hate to cut this short, do you think you're ready to get started? We have a lot to get through today."
"Yeah, I think I am. Gil texted me while I was in the bathroom, by the way. All the stuff we ordered last night is waiting downstairs. I can just run down and get it now so we can begin right after brunch."
"Sounds like a plan."
. . .
Adrien pushed the TV off the roof as hard as he could, then scooted back away from the edge like his life depended on it. Actually, knowing Plagg, it probably did.
"CATACLYSM!" Plagg hollered from somewhere below. After a moment, he called out, "It's safe, Adrien!"
Carefully, he inched himself forward to peer over the ledge. A grinning kwami stared back at him, and Adrien saw neither a crushed TV on the ground below nor any massive black scorch marks smeared across the pristine white of the mansion's walls. It appeared that Plagg had successfully managed to destroy the TV with minimal resulting damage to any of the surrounding areas. Sure, some (okay, many) of the red leaves on a tree nearby had developed a strange, soot-like quality, and a few stones along the wall had acquired an air of decrepitness, but it was a far cry from the single breath that caused a street to fracture on Heroes' Day, or the catastrophe Ladybug told him Plagg had weaponized in their fight against Style Queen. Maybe this crazy plan would work after all. A good thing, too, or he and Plagg would've blown all this money on expensive devices for nothing. Hauling it all up to the roof had been no small feat, either, even for Chat Noir.
"Alright, for the next one, remember to just destroy the box at first, then the TV itself, okay?" Adrien shouted down to Plagg.
"Got it!"
The next box went sailing over the edge, then two 'Catacylsm!'s were heard in rapid succession.
"Hey, I did it!" Plagg exclaimed. "Well, the TV was starting to corrupt, but at least it wasn't immediate."
"Nice job! Think you're ready for something smaller?" Adrien asked, grabbing a packaged laptop.
"Well, we won't know until we try. Go for it!"
Adrien hurled the package off the roof, but only one "Cataclysm!" sounded.
"Plagg?"
"Sorry, it went all the way through by accident. Let me try again."
When the next laptop box went flying, Adrien was happy to hear two 'Cataclysm!'s in response.
"Cool! Wanna try a phone this time?"
"Sure!"
There was no summon of destruction when the phone soared out of sight this time, only a string of curses and a loud crash.
"Plagg! What happened? Is everything alright?" Adrien shouted, scrambling towards the edge. But he'd been reckless in his haste, and, much like the variety of devices, he soon found himself falling all too quickly toward the ground.
"GAH! CLAWS OUT, CLAWS OUT, CLAWS OUT!" he screamed, flailing in midair whilst the grass hurtled closer. The transformation washed over him with seconds to spare, and he rolled to absorb the impact. When he finally came to a stop, he opened his eyes. The remnants of a new phone and its box lay beside him. Great. He'd fallen off the roof for no reason, apparently.
After taking a moment to catch his breath, he cataclysmed what was left of the phone, pulled out his baton, and took himself back up to the roof.
"Claws in," he muttered. A very anxious-looking Plagg zoomed out of the ring.
"Adrien! Are you okay? Don't scare me like that, you idiot! I can't believe you did that! Promise me it won't happen again. Good thing you remembered to transform in time, or you would've been toast! Maybe you should sit for a minute. I can't believe you did that!"
"I'm fine, I just heard the crash and then panicked. I thought you'd gotten hurt. Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you," he said.
"You dove off a roof because you thought I might've gotten hurt? May I remind you that I am an immortal being and capable of phasing through solid matter? And that you are neither?" Plagg deadpanned.
"You scared me, too! I know, I know, I obviously wasn't thinking. I just assumed something had happened to you and I had to make sure you were okay. It's not like I intentionally jumped off the roof - I fell off it by accident, thank you very much!"
"Geez, kid, you and pigtails must be some sort of match made in heaven for you to have pulled a stunt like that."
"I'm pretty sure Marinette's never fallen off a roof before, Plagg. I think I would've noticed," Adrien said, handing Plagg some camembert.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that."
"Plagg!"
"Kidding, kidding." Plagg paused to wolf down the cheese. "Alright, aside from missing the last phone you threw at me, I was improving. The blast radius was getting significantly smaller. I think I'm ready for the next level, so long as you're prepared to stay on the roof this time."
"You're hilarious."
"Glad we're on the same page," he said, winking as he flew into position.
Adrien tossed the next phone directly towards Plagg, then watched it arced into his waiting paws and was instantly annihilated upon contact. A black sphere of destructive energy pulsed outwards from the point of collision, expanding to a diameter of about ten feet away before it began dissipating almost as quickly as it had formed. It was beautiful, in a way.
"I'm impressed," Adrien said. "I can't believe how much progress you've made in such a short amount of time."
"Well, I've never had a holder who trusted me enough to help me practice controlling my power on my own like this. Not that I didn't give them plenty of good reasons not to want me unleashing it freely. I'm not exactly one for rule-following. And you already know what happened with Ladybug and Style Queen, and, well, the incidents involving Atlantis and the dinosaurs sort of speak for themselves. . . ."
"Well, once we've gotten through this, if you ever want to experiment more, all you have to do is ask. I trust you, Plagg."
"Yeah, well, thanks." The words may have been rough around the edges, but Plagg's wide smile spoke for itself.
"Thank you. You're the one who believed in me in the first place, anyway. The least I can do is return the favor," Adrien said. "Are you ready to see what else you've got?"
"You bet! I've got just the thing in mind," Plagg said, then flew over to a box containing a laptop. "Think you can catch this after I destroy the box?"
"Probably. Are you ready?" Plagg was hovering a few feet above him now.
"Why not?"
Adrien tossed the box upward at a nod from Plagg, who promptly destroyed the box. The laptop landed neatly in his hands. Adrien marveled at how it looked only slightly singed as blackened cardboard rained upon his hair, the tips of which were now faintly grey. When he pressed the power button, the screen miraculously flickered to life.
Plagg floated down to eye level, looking pleased. "Now, watch this."
He closed his eyes and rested a paw on the keyboard. He slowly breathed out. The computer's light blinked off. Adrien tried the power button to no avail, but in doing so noticed a black tinge to his fingernails.
"Whoa, I'm sorry, Adrien! I wasn't trying to hurt you, are you okay?"
Adrien inspected his hand. "Don't apologize - that was awesome! How are you going to get better if you don't practice? And besides, it doesn't even sting. If you're up for it, I say we try again."
. . .
The pair stood back and watched in satisfaction as, at Plagg's touch to the phone on the other end of the charging cord, a mini cataclysm zipped along the cord and into the laptop. Though the phone and its charger still worked, and the computer was able to turn on, a few select keys refused to function properly. It seemed their hours of hard work honing in on Plagg's ability (or rather, lack thereof) to control his powers had been well spent.
"Well, being a rich kid certainly pays off sometimes," Plagg said, observing the carnage around them. Adrien had to grin.
"You're not wrong," he said. "There's something satisfying about blowing Father's money on ways to help us to take him down."
"Assuming he is Shadow Moth, that is," Plagg reminded him.
"We'll know soon enough. Given that between both of us, the only evidence we've been able to come up with against him being Shadow Moth is that he's been akumatized - and our conclusion that a butterfly holder couldn't find a work-around to that was shaky at best, looking back on it - I'd say it's highly probable, at this point," Adrien said, beginning to sweep up the remnants of their practice session. At least the 'wind' had been able to take care of the stuff left on the roof.
"I really wish I could come up with an argument against that, but I think we've covered it all already. Just keep in mind that highly probable as it may be, things are rarely exactly as they seem."
"I know," he sighed, breaking eye contact. "I know."
"Okay, enough of that," Plagg said. "Worrying more about this isn't going to help with anything. Not coming to terms with this, not preparing yourself for tonight, and certainly not helping you feel better. We're going to eat lunch, practice your piano stuff, and then go and spend some time with Marinette. And we're not going to wait a minute longer. I am exhausted and therefore absolutely famished. Do you know how long I've been waiting for wheels of some nice, gooey camembert? Who are you, mere mortal, to deprive me of my cheesy delights?" Plagg plopped himself down atop Adrien's head and gave his hair a hearty tug. "Take me to lunch, human!"
Pulling open his bedroom door, Adrien didn't bother trying to hide his grin.
. . .
Plagg and Adrien laughed as the last notes of their dueted version of Antonio Vivaldi's "Spring" echoed about the room. It had been a while since he'd had the chance to actually enjoy his piano practice, but Plagg had made sure to keep him entertained, hopping around Adrien's fingers as they danced together across the keys, music beautifully fading from classical to Jagged Stone piano-style to Kitty Section's latest songs and back again.
Adrien could only smile as the sounds of their breathless joy filled the air. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed the feeling of a heart this light. Gabriel should really go on business trips more often.
He looked down at Plagg, who was lounging against C# and D#, then, after checking his watch, stretched and began collecting his French Lit materials. L'étranger - check; article on Camus's background - check; computer - check; post-it notes - check; notebook - check; pencils - check; eraser - check; five wheels of camembert - check. He figured Marinette would probably have plenty of supplies if he forgot anything.
His phone buzzed with a message from Gil: it was time to go. Adrien loaded everything into his bag and grabbed some warmer layers, then tickled Plagg's stomach and shoved him into a jacket pocket despite his snickering protests. He texted Marinette to let her know they were on their way, heading downstairs and out the mansion's doors.
. . .
"S-So yeah, I think you've got everything! The main point of the lesson was just about perspectives and appreciating the different ways people understand life and how that influences the way we choose to live it. Um, yeah," Marinette concluded. "An-An-Anything else you wanted to go over?"
"I think you've covered everything," Adrien said, rubbing his eyes. "Seriously, thank you for doing this. I hate having to miss school for photoshoots."
"It's a prob- it's no problem, really. You can always come to me if you need anything. I love - I'm happy to help." She crinkled a smile at him.
"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to take advantage of your kindness."
"Absolutely." He resisted the urge to turn away so she wouldn't see how glassy his eyes were growing.
"You're the best, Marinette."
"And you are too good for this world, Adrien," she said, flushing cherry red but holding his gaze. "I'm s-serious. All you have to do is ask. You're my friend, Adrien; you could never be a burden."
He had to bite his lip to keep it from trembling.
"S-Sorry," he said. "It's just been a really long week."
"Do you . . . want to talk about it?" she asked, handing him a tissue.
"Thank you, it's just . . . I wouldn't even know where to start. I don't even fully understand it all at this point. I guess I just have to wait it out and see where things go," he told her whilst dabbing at his eyes.
"Well, you're welcome to let me know when you find the words you need. Or you can even just come over to try and figure it out in the meantime. Or even if you just, um, want to."
He smiled at her through the sniffles. What had he done to deserve a friend like Marinette? He swore this girl was like magic - she always seemed to know just what he needed to hear . . . even if it took her a few attempts to actually say it.
He was not pleased when the insistent buzzing of his phone chose that moment to pop their little bubble. But upon seeing the name Gil flash across the screen, he reluctantly looked away from Marinette to read the incoming texts.
"Is everything alright?" Marinette asked.
"Yeah, sorry," Adrien said. "My bodyguard was just letting me know he's gotten stuck in traffic. He had to pick up something from one of the Gabriel's buildings, and apparently there was some sort of incident with a vehicle hydroplaning ahead of him on his way back."
"Ooh," Marinette said, checking her phone. "Looks like no one was hurt; it's just caused a bit of a mess by the Tour Montparnasse. With all the bizarre weather this afternoon" - Adrien guiltily looked away - "something like this was bound to happen. Your bodyguard may be a while. Would, would you like to stay here until he can pick you up?"
"Thanks, but I really should be getting back. It's almost 17:00 already."
"Well, I can walk back with you, then! Just let me grab an umbrella, and I'll meet you downstairs."
Admittedly, he was not expecting her to show up with the very umbrella he'd gifted her the day they first became friends. Adrien couldn't help but gawk at her in astonishment.
"You've kept it? Even after all this time?" he asked.
Marinette whispered something that sounded suspiciously like an 'Always,' but quickly backtracked into a series of apologies and levels of stuttering he hadn't heard from her in a while. "Oh - I mean - that is, I didn't mean to - you can have it back if you love m- if you want to - I'm sorry, I should've returned it ages ago, it is ours - I mean! yours after all - basically, here," she finished, shoving it in his direction. Adrien wondered if he couldn't add 'Marinette-word-salad' to the list of languages he'd mastered over the years.
"Marinette," he laughed, nudging it back. "We're walking back to my house together, aren't we? Besides, you can keep it. A token of our friendship, if you will."
She relaxed at his words, and with an unexpected spurt of confidence, linked her arm through his as they began the walk back to his mansion.
Adrien liked the comfortable silence between them as they strolled along through the pitter-patter of rain, liked the tug of her arm against his, the occasional exchange of quiet smiles. He felt himself clinging tighter and tighter as every step drew them closer to the not quite a house that was not quite a home.
"Marinette?" he breathed as they drew to a halt at the mansion's front gates.
"Yeah?"
"I . . . It's just . . . It's . . ." But the words weren't coming, so instead he turned to wrap her in a hug. "Thank you," he said, once the racket of the dropped umbrella and her stammered apologies had subsided.
His heart soared when he felt her arms wrap around him, too. For a second, they just leaned against one another, breathing softly.
But then, she froze. He stiffened. Oh, no.
"Adrien . . . ? Why does your hair smell . . . ashy? Does this have anything to do with why your fingernails are all, well, blackened? I didn't want to ask when I noticed them earlier, but did something happen?"
He nervously tugged his beanie lower on his head. "Um . . . no?"
It sounded horribly unconvincing, even to his own ears.
"Adrien!"
"It's nothing! I mean it is something. I mean I was trying to cook something, and then there was fire, and it's not that bad, really and -" Maybe he'd become a little too well versed in Marinette-word-salad. This was going extremely poorly, he thought as he hurried to punch in the passcode.
"I'm fine, really! Just a little accident. Nothing to see here at all." The gate was opening, but in true Marinette fashion, he overestimated how fast it was moving and ran straight into it. "Ouch! Anyway, thanks again for everything! I'll see you Monday!" he called over his shoulder, darting up the front steps and leaving a baffled Marinette in his wake.
. . .
"Okay, Plagg. I think I'm ready." It was 22:00, and Gil was sound asleep, going by the snores emanating from the bedroom down the hall. Adrien fidgeted with the strap of the bag resting on his shoulder, shifting his weight from foot to foot in a combination of dread, curiosity, and anticipation of what they might discover tonight.
"Just remember that it's never too late to back out, and the second there's even a hint that something is too much to handle, we'll get out of there, then choose between getting Gorilla down the hall there, calling the authorities, or calling in Ladybug. And we are not going through anything we find tonight, just collecting it to look through with a clear mind in the morning. Got it?" Plagg said.
"Got it," Adrien replied.
"Now, wait in here. I think it's time for a little catastrophe, wouldn't you?"
"Oh, most definitely," Adrien said. They had spent a good deal of time practicing this particular power earlier that morning. Hopefully, it would be enough.
With a wink, Plagg zoomed upwards and phased straight through the ceiling. Adrien felt the air of sizzling power wash through him not a minute later. It didn't take Plagg long to return to him, fur looking distinctly electrocuted but otherwise unharmed.
"All clear?"
"All clear. Everything else in the house appears to be working fine, but not a single security camera is functional. If only I could guess what might've happened to them, causing their wires to short like that," Plagg drawled.
"Perfect. Let's get to it."
They crept across the hallway to his parents' bedroom. Plagg phased through and Adrien heard the lock click. A zap of adrenaline buzzed through him as he laid a hand on the handle. He took a moment to breathe. Then, he pushed open the door.
Adrien hadn't been in here in years. It was a shock for him to see every detail remained the same, from the pictures on his mother's nightstand to her shoes neatly placed by her side of the bed. It was like she'd never left, like a day hadn't gone by since her last.
Averting his eyes, Adrien made his way with Plagg to his father's desk, the only thing that appeared to have changed. They noticed a drawer had not been completely shut. Upon pulling it all the way open, Adrien first noticed a picture of their family. Baby Adrien looked up at him from the photo, his giggles mixing in merrily with his mother's laughs. Even his father appeared to be smiling. Adrien wished he had more than fading memories of times like these.
He quickly shook off the thought and dug deeper into the drawer, finding a file with his mother's name scrawled across the top. He emptied the contents into a folder of his own, then placed it and the picture back where he'd found them.
Adrien and Plagg both carefully searched around the rest of the room, but found nothing more of use.
They moved on to the security room next. Rather than searching through the physical tapes, Adrien allowed Plagg to make quick work of the computer's thumbprint scanner. It prompted them for a password.
He tried his mother's birthday and then his father's to no avail before finally entering his own. They were in. Quickly, Adrien searched through the digital files until he stumbled across those from the week of his mother's disappearance. Each day was downloaded onto a pre-labeled flash drive. The computer was powered off, and again they scampered out of the room.
Adrien's heart was beating against his throat now. He felt nauseous. He couldn't do this. He didn't want to do this. He let his feet walk him towards his father's atelier anyway.
He and Plagg did not exchange a word as they hunted through his father's office. They found nothing but more pictures of the late Mme. Agreste. Adrien looked to his kwami for reassurance, then slowly marched up the steps towards the image of his mother.
He gave Plagg the go-ahead to open the safe. Every instinct in his body continued to scream at him to flee, to get as far away from there as possible, to run to Gil and not stop running until the three of them reached Nino's, or perhaps Marinette's.
Adrien's eyes raked carefully over the contents of the safe, eyes catching on the same strange book he'd taken all those years ago. It seemed all the more suspicious in light of his recent discovery, and so Adrien shoved it, too, into the depths of his bag.
He saw something on a shelf he'd been too short to see properly the last time they'd broken in.
It was a journal. And it was titled in loopy writing, "Property of Emilie Agreste."
Cautiously, he reached out to it, barely daring to let his fingers brush its precious surface.
A layer of dust clouded outwards. Coughing, he grabbed the journal and placed it delicately in his bag before closing the safe's door.
They stood in front of his mother's closed portrait now, and Adrien was beginning to notice his breaths coming in shorter and shallower by the second.
"You're not as alone as you think, Adrien. You'll always have me."
"I love you, Plagg."
"I love you, too, kid."
"Now let's find out exactly what Father's been hiding."
Adrien stepped forward, Plagg on his shoulder, and pressed his fingers into the hidden keys in the painting of his mother. They huddled together on the concealed elevator as it sank beneath the floor.
. . .
There was a heavy air of wrongness to this place, this humid underground cave. Adrien wanted to leave more than he had ever wanted anything. But still, he hugged Plagg closer to his neck and forced himself to keep moving forward, to cross the ominous walkway ahead. Lights flicked on overhead the second he stepped out of the elevator. His heart was beating faster still, dread pooling in the pits of his stomach.
"I'm right here, Adrien. Do you want to turn back or do you want to keep going?"
No one was forcing him to do this. He could walk away. He could pretend he'd never overheard any conversation and go back to living his semi-normal life.
"Let's keep going."
As they drew closer to the end of the walkway, Plagg was the first to discern the white shapes fluttering around some sort of object hidden amongst the greenery on the island they were approaching.
Adrien might've mistaken them for butterflies if he hadn't seen Ladybug purify akumas so many times.
This was it. This was the proof. His still rapidly beating heart dropped to the floor.
They walked closer. With shaky hands, Adrien reached one out for a butterfly to land on, and with the other he took a picture.
There was grass beneath his feet now. But to his surprise, he was barely able to catch himself before he tripped over a cord. Adrien and Plagg exchanged worried looks as they followed it to the strange object they'd observed from out on the walkway.
It was with bated breath that Adrien stretched out a hand to touch the edge. Unexpectedly, the white panels slid open upon contact. And his world caved in.
It wasn't real. It couldn't be.
His reflection stared back at him, hovering over her still body. His green eyes blinked back at him while her eyelids stayed closed. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening.
"Maman?" he whispered. Her pale face gave no response. "Maman?" he choked. Still nothing. His breath fogged up the glass, and he quickly wiped it clean again. "Maman!" he screamed. "Maman! Wake up! You have to wake up! MAMAN!"
He could no longer see for the tears streaming down his cheeks. "No, please no, please no, Maman. You have to wake up, Maman. Don't leave me, Maman! Not again, you can't leave me again, Maman! You have to wake up, Maman! MAMAN!"
"Adrien," Plagg's voice called from somewhere in front of him. "Deep breaths, kitten. Focus on your breathing."
But he couldn't, not with his mother lying there with her face ghostly white and eyes that refused to open. Instead, he kept crying and gasping for air that his lungs refused to take in.
"Adrien, I need you to listen to me, okay? That's all you have to do for now, just listen to my voice." White noise buzzed ever louder in his ears. "We need to leave this place. As soon as possible. You need to get out of here."
He was torn. He couldn't leave his mother like this, yet he couldn't bear to stay another minute in the presence of this . . . shell.
Numbly, Adrien staggered to his feet. He stared down into the coffin, then out towards the elevator they'd entered through. He gave a last glance through the glass. And then he ran.
He sprinted with Plagg on his heels, back to the elevator, back out of the atelier, and out the mansion's doors. His bag swung around him as he escaped into the storming night, not caring about the lightning, just running, stumbling, sobbing, through the darkness.
It felt like an eternity as he ran, ran, ran, until he eventually collapsed, exhausted onto a bench in some unknown park.
To the guest reviewer - you read my mind. I hope you like where I ended up going with it.
Fun Fact: While I was up writing a part of this chapter at an ungodly hour of the morning again, autocorrect kept suggesting I change "Plagg's" to "Plant's," prompting a series of giggle fits in which I couldn't stop thinking about the idea of Adrien having spent several hours trying to train a plant to learn to properly use its potentially world-ending powers. It was a very productive writing session.
"Spring" happens to be one of my favorite songs, though I only know it on the flute, not piano. Also, no, I was not physically capable of resisting a Harry Potter reference despite the serious nature of this chapter. I regret nothing.
Thank you again for reading, and lookout for the next chapter, "Don't Let Go," on roughly March 25th. Just as a heads-up, March is looking to be a long, busy month for me, so there's a slight chance I'll fall a little behind on my schedule. If that is the case, there will be a notice posted to my profile page. It shouldn't be more than a week delayed. Hopefully, I'll see you on March 25th!
Chapter Word Count: 5,207.
Published: Friday, February 25, 2022.
