Marinette was panting, trembling, frozen in terror. Every second she waited, the Makara moved closer to her home, and her partner was taken further away. There was no more time to argue with herself, she had to make a choice. She allowed herself one more moment of indecision, then she released the Makara's tail.
She threw her yo-yo in front of it, dodging all the attacks from the tail. It apparently recognized her as the one which kept trapping and attacking it, and it now held a personal vendetta against her. She dodged it all, forcing herself to focus on what was important. What had her family taught her her whole life, what did her gang fight for, what did she value above all else?
She crashed through her balcony window. She heard her father cry out in surprise. He was in her parents room. Typical. If she or her mother weren't there, he wouldn't leave. He had the mentality that nothing would happen-the Makara destroyed other buildings, the Akuma went after other people; nothing would happen to him. When she or Sabine were present, he would even risk the chance, but if he was left to his own devices, he'd happily camp at home and wait the attack out.
She ran through the hallways, taking possibly her last look at these carpets, this hallway, her things. Tom crept out of his bedroom, face blanching when he saw her. He tried to stammer something, but she didn't have the time to comfort him. She grabbed him and pulled him along with her, back to her bedroom. She forced him onto the balcony, grabbed his arm, and swung them away from the building. The Makara was close enough that its tail swung at her. She couldn't even look behind-all she could do was hear it destroy her home, her life.
Her muscles trembled, but she was no longer in danger of falling asleep. Adrenaline pumped through her. Everything was so clear, everything was moving too slowly for her.
Marinette kept swinging, holding onto her dad with all her strength, moving closer to the police. They'd take care of him. They shouted at her as she dropped him off on a building next to them, but they had flying horses; they could get him down to street level. Tom tried to grab her arm, to get her to talk to him, but she shrugged him off. Her partner was out of sight, and she was too worried about him to feel back about ignoring her dad.
Her fingers trembled as she threw her yo-yo again. Nine minutes left. Damnit, if only she had a dessert with her. She whirled around, shoving her hands into the pockets of her dad's apron. He always had old cookies or something in there. It drove her mom mad, and he did it just to get a rise out of her. Now, it would be her saving grace. She grabbed a cookie, ignored her dad's confused stutters, and swung away.
She threw herself up in the air, scouring for anything out of the ordinary. Whatever was up with this Akuma, it wasn't normal-it wasn't interested in the Makara at all. So what did it want? And why had it taken her partner with it?
She landed on a roof. She'd be no good to Cat Noir if she had to leave him in eight minutes. She detransformed, shoved the cookie in Tikki's mouth, and suited up again, bone weary. Again, she threw herself up in the air, scouring the Parisian horizon, looking for something-anything-which would lead her to her partner.
"Just go straight," Tikki said. "He's close. I'll lead you to him." Marinette mentally cursed at her kwami. How could she sound so calm when her partner had been kidnapped? She swung forward, the icy wind biting at her exposed skin. If she wasn't so worked up, Marinette would have been frozen stiff. As it was, she couldn't actually feel her toes, fingers, or nose. There were more pressing matters, though-like the fact that Cat Noir was still in the air, kicking at the Akuma trying to...what was it doing exactly?
She landed on a roof and wrapped the Akuma in her yo-yo. A small part of her marveled at how much more precise she'd gotten with the tool-the distance between the Akuma and Cat Noir had been less than a foot, but she'd still been able to get just her intended target. She gathered the string in her hands and threw the Akuma away.
Her partner screamed, flailing in the air. Marinette's eyes widened, heart stopping. Why wasn't he using his baton to save himself?
She called the yo-yo back, throwing it at him, pulling him to her on the roof. He crashed into her, but she stood firm, holding him steady. His fingers gripped her arms. He was shaking, unable to speak from how heavily he was breathing. Behind him, the Akuma dove at them again. She shoved him down, and he collapsed at her feet.
She jumped up, grabbing the Akuma's wings. It grabbed and pulled at her hair, scraping her scalp with its sharp talons. Marinette grit her teeth through the pain, blinking the tears back. She couldn't do this; she was too tired to deal with its wings.
"Lucky Charm!" Her fingers glowed. Scissors. With one snip, the Akuma screeched, and the two of them dropped to the rooftop. The Akuma's back bled, and it glared at Ladybug. Marinette's mouth dropped open. That was her mom. What the hell had happened to her?
The Akuma ran at her, and Marinette recognized the look in her eyes. She shifted into her stance and fought against the older, more experienced woman. Her only chance at winning was her speed, her desperation, and the fact that she also had her yo-yo.
Her mother aimed a kick at her, but Marinette blocked it, kicking at her stable leg simultaneously. Sabine anticipated this and jumped to dodge. Marinette threw a combination of punches at her mom's face and chest. All of them were blocked, and Marinette found herself too busy throwing and blocking hits to pull out her yo-yo. She needed her partner. She was about to call for him, but he heard her silent call first.
"Simple Release!"
Marinette dropped low and swept her leg out, finally catching Sabine off guard. She jumped forward, grabbing the Akuma's hair, pulling it back. She twisted around, pulling the Akuma up and held it in a choke-hold. Her entire body shook. She was so cold, so pumped on adrenaline, and so, so afraid. She looked at Cat Noir, who was reaching for the Akuma's shoulder.
The butterfly flew lazily towards Cat Noir's claw. Marinette threw her yo-yo at it with as much anger as she could, purifying it with all the fury she felt buzzing inside of her. These stupid Akuma, these stupid butterflies, these goddamned incompetent police. They'd had two years to figure out who was making the Akuma and Makara, and they'd gotten nowhere. Instead, it had taken two teenagers (with magical powers and underground connections) a couple of months to get further in the investigation than they had ever gotten.
"Pick her up," Ladybug told Cat Noir. "I can hold you with one arm, and I'll swing with the other."
"Are you sure?"
"There's no time to waste. The Makara's still on the loose!" Marinette snapped, tears pricking at her eyes again. Sweat dripped down her neck-or was that blood? Cat Noir picked up Sabine with such care, it surprised Marinette. She hooked an arm around him and took off. A beeping caught her attention. Without looking down, she winced. "Do you need to leave?"
"I just need to recharge," he grimaced. "I'll be back as soon as I can!"
"Please don't take too long."
Tikki pointed out Cat Noir's baton on the street below, and Marinette dropped him off next to it, Sabine still in his arms. Then she turned and swung towards the Makara. It wasn't hard to track down. She knew how to get home from here. From the demolished bakery, she simply followed the trail of destruction, bitterness and despair fighting for dominance in her chest. She grit her teeth against it. If there was one thing she knew from experience, it was that fighting from emotion was a sure-fire way to get seriously injured, or die.
She pushed down all her emotions and swung through the street, getting closer to the Makara. It's tail seemed to have forgotten all about her, because as she drew closer, it didn't go out of its way to knock her out of the air.
Remembering her previous encounter with it, Marinette fell to the ground and ran underneath it, placing herself just under its belly. It was now so late at night that it was almost impossible to see anything too far from a street lamp, and she could feel a new layer of ice forming on the ground.
She threw her yo-yo up and it snagged on a jagged edge of the Makara's shell. It twisted as it felt her pull on the string, throwing her to the side. It screamed, pausing its rampage to figure out what was going on. The tail whirled around, searching for any and all possible foes. The police backed off, and Marinette was left to face the Makara alone. She continued climbing up her yo-yo, hindered by the Makara's constant twisting and thrashing. Her fingers were too numb to properly grip the string, so she kept slipping. Seconds felt like hours as she continued the seemingly impossible climb to the Makara's back.
She stood on the shell's edge. Struggling to keep her balance on the uncooperative Makara, she tied one end of her yo-yo string around her waist and wrapped the other one an outcropping of its shell.
"Lucky Charm," She mumbled, trying not to bite her tongue off. Her hands heated, and she almost fell off the Makara's back, but her yo-yo anchored her to it. Her fingers tingled, and the smell of the Makara made it hard to breathe.
In a flash, a giant hammer with an axe-edge in the middle of it appeared in her hands. She braced her legs, gripping the shell with her toes for extra leverage. With all the strength of her and Tikki combined, she slammed the hammer-axe hybrid into the Makara's shell.
It jerked suddenly beneath her, and she was dislodged from the shell. She fell, only saved by the anchor she'd made earlier. She was thrown forward, almost slamming her head into another jagged spike jutting out of the shell. She brought the weapon behind her head, swinging it down in front of her. The spike was cut clean off, and out of it spewed a pressurized gas.
The Makara fought like never before, but Marinette now had hope. Not bothering to pull herself back to where she'd originally anchored herself, Marinette planted her feet on the side of the Makara's shell, like she was rock climbing, and swung at all the spikes she could reach, willing the weapon to turn into more of an axe than a hammer. It obeyed and grew impossibly large, but no harder to wield.
Soon she was surrounded by pressurized air. It smelled sweet, like the after-scent of a defeated Makara. She pushed off the shell and propelled herself to the side, cutting off jagged edges and spikes and anything else her axe could reach. At some point, Cat Noir joined her. He saw what she was doing, and copied. He didn't have any way to keep himself on the Makara, but she kept an eye on him, ready to dive after him if he needed any more saving tonight.
"Hey!" An officer on a police pegasus hovered near Cat Noir, yelling to get their attention. "You have to retreat! The Makara is disintegrating, get to the ground!"
She pulled herself up with minimal hindrance from the Makara, and hurriedly untied herself from the yo-yo. Cat Noir extended his staff to the street and grabbed her, lowering them both to the ground just as the Makara dissolved. The fresh scent fell over them like a fine mist. Finally, this hellish night was over.
On the ground, Ladybug's legs gave up on her. Tikki tutted in her mind, telling her to pace herself better next time. She'd be lucky if she could walk tomorrow. Marinette didn't want to think about tomorrow. She didn't want to think about tonight. She didn't want to think at all. If she did, she would have to remember what had happened.
She had lived in the bakery her entire life. The wall by the kitchen had her height milestones since she had first learned to stand. The line at five foot had been run over so many times since she'd stopped growing in sixth grade that there was a groove in the wall. The second step creaked, and the fifth step had a dip on the side-Marinette had made a note of both of these things when she'd first started sneaking out two years ago. There was a loose tile just behind the display case of the bakery, and Marinette once stashed a love note to her third grade crush there, imagining he would find it and ask him to marry her.
Her mom had been making dinner in that kitchen her entire life. Her father had been waking up and making bread at five in the morning her entire life. She'd been climbing up the ladder to her room her entire life. Now it was all gone.
There would never be any more all-nighters in the cozy bakery kitchen as her family scrambled to complete a last minute order. There would never be another hot-chocolate special in December. There would never be another destroyed tray from her dad refusing to believe that the third oven in the bakery was broken.
Her room was gone, her designs were gone, her things were gone. Everything was destroyed. It was just a pile of rubble.
Spots danced in front of her eyes. Where were they going to live now? What was going to happen to the members of the gang which relied on the earnings of the bakery to stay afloat? How were they going to make ends meet?
Cat Noir looked down at her in concern. "Are you ok?"
Liquid ran down the back of her neck and she shivered. Her feet felt swollen with fresh bruises, and her legs quivered just from standing. The muscles in her upper arms spasmed, and she knew they could continue to do so for a few more days, at least. The toll of using so much magic was catching up to her. The horizon tilted suddenly, and Cat Noir grabbed her as she slumped. The events of the night kept replaying in her mind: she'd seen her partner almost die twice, she'd almost died, her mom had gotten Akumatized, her dad was who-knows-where, likely crying from the stress of it all. She'd lost her home, her parents' past and future, and she was powerless to help them fix it.
"What's wrong? Ladybug? Are you ok?"
She was about to say 'no,' but she lost consciousness before she could get the words out.
(Cat Noir caught Ladybug and held her against him, trying to figure out what to do next. The scene after Ladybug fainted was pandemonium. Reporters scurried out of hidden cracks and holes in the city like rats, shoving their cameras and microphones in Cat Noir's face, asking questions and demanding answers. The police were trying to get them to leave, but they were exhausted, freezing cold, and had very little success. Cat Noir greeted the reporters with a cold look, lifting Ladybug into his arms. He stood there, staring at the reporters until they quieted some.
("Ladybug is a symbol of peace in this city. She's always here for us, always telling us we can lean on her. Tonight, she leaned on me, and she needs to lean on you, too. Leave her alone, let her rest. Don't you owe her that simple courtesy?" His tone left the air around him balmy in comparison. With one last glare thrown at the admonished media, Cat Noir extended his baton and left the scene, Ladybug in tow. It was too dark to see where he took them.
(The above statement was taken as a declaration of love from Cat Noir to Ladybug by many of the news reporters on mainstream media. Regulars of the Ladyblog soon took it upon themselves to fight for the opinion that they were nothing more than friends, and continued trying to keep the Ladyblog a friendly, easy space for Ladybug and/or Cat Noir to log into. Ratings of news channels plummeted any time they reported on the supposed unrequited love Cat Noir had for his partner.
(It was later confirmed that the Akuma from the night of the attack was Sabine Cheng, wife of Tom Dupain. The officers affected by her powers when she was an Akuma asserted that they no longer felt compelled to listen to her. It was noted, however, that one of those three officers was always seen by Sabine's side if she was ever given some sort of ticket, vouching for her and helping her fight any charges.)
Natalie tried to keep her heels from clicking on the stone floor. She was used to the sound of plastic heel against tile, but the bumpy texture of the stone made her fear for her five hundred euro shoes. The room she entered was less of a room and more of a cellar. It was one level underground, made completely of stone with wood furniture strewn about. The space itself wasn't too big, just like the rest of the cottage. If she was to guess, she'd say the cabin was designed for a family of three in mind. Somehow, though, it seemed too small for even two people to live comfortably.
Natalie glanced around the cellar. The wooden door and chairs were faded and splintered. Dust gathered in all the corners, and the ancient air conditioner sputtered as it blasted heated air in the room. Halfway through the room, someone had placed metal bars, screwing them into the floor and the ceiling. The bars were thick, solid. Without a key, it would be impossible to open the door to the other side of the room.
Natalie gasped and, steeling herself against the dirt on the floor, knelt down in front of the bars. A slight figure sat in the corner furthest away from her. At her gasp, the blonde woman jerked, looking towards the door. Her green eyes widened, and she scrambled to sit opposite Natalie, grasping her hands with grimy hands. Natalie barely held in a grimace as she looked at the long, dirty fingernails on the woman.
"Emelie?" Natalie asked quietly, adding a bit of confused wonder to her voice. "This is where you've been?"
"You know me?" the woman sobbed. "Thank God-thank God. Can you get me out of here? Please-I don't know if the other woman is here, but-"
"I can't," Natalie averted her gaze. Emelie didn't even remember her? An ugly feeling swirled inside of her, thick and oily and it threatened to break through the calm face Natalie had spent a lifetime creating. "I don't have a key."
Emelie's eyes dimmed. Natalie recited every nasty word she knew in her mind. Emelie had always been like that-the type to show exactly how she was feeling, right when she felt it.
"But, how did you find me? Do you know who took me?"
Natelie shook her head. "I can't believe I found you myself. I wasn't even looking. I like hiking, but I got lost. I was just looking for people and I found this cabin. While looking for someone to help me, I stumbled upon you."
Something else dimmed in Emelie's eyes, but Natalie no longer knew her well enough to know what it was that had disappointed her. The two sat in silence for a moment. Natalie's feet were going numb. She shifted to stand up, but Emelie reached out, grabbing her coat sleeve.
"You know my name," Emelie swallowed. "My husband. His name is Gabriel Agreste. Have you heard of him?"
Natalie nodded stiffly. Of course she'd heard of him. She loved him. She'd been there for him when Emelie couldn't be. She was better for Gabriel than she had ever been, and if getting him to see that meant helping Pisces keep Emelie in this cell for however long it took until it took him to see the truth, then she'd do it.
"He's rich," Emelie said, digging through her pockets for something. "Please, give him this note. He can help you free me! Please, please try to get to him! Just say my name, he'll see you: Emelie Adrienne Agreste!"
Natalie nodded, then tilted her head and held still, as though she'd heard something. She consciously furrowed her brow. "I must go now," she whispered. Emelie nodded, but shoved something in Natalie's hand. Natalie almost dropped it; it was a piece of paper, almost soft with how often it had been folded, and more brown than white.
"Give this to him-please don't forget about me!"
Natalie nodded resolutely. "I will do my best."
Emelie gave her a relieved smile, and Natalie offered her a small smile. As she turned, the smile dropped from her face. She put the paper in her pocket, wiping her hand on her pants. She couldn't wait to get out of this God-forsaken cabin.
Gabriel stumbled through the halls, absolutely wrecked. His head ached, and his eyes throbbed. He closed his bedroom door behind him. Taking off his glasses, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and swallowed his sobs.
The victim he'd chosen had seemed perfect at first. Strong, capable, stubborn: she'd had all the makings of a powerful Akuma. She should have easily been able to track down the magical trail of the Makara and lead him to the creator-to the bastard who'd kidnapped his wife. Instead, the Akuma had been too stubborn. He'd had to take complete control, instantly losing any chance of following the Makara's magical trail.
On top of that, Cat Noir and Ladybug were getting too close to his identity for his comfort. Gabriel had lived as Hawkmoth for decades, and even in the last two years, he'd made countless Akuma and the police had been none the wiser about who he was. They didn't even know his name. Now, the public was going to know about him. There was no way he could allow this to happen. The company would lose all partners, all business associates-thousands of people would lose their jobs. While he'd previously more or less ignored the duo, he now didn't have that luxury-he had to keep his identity a secret.
Gabriel fell onto his bed, groaning as his back finally relaxed. He curled on his side, facing his bedside table where he kept a portrait of his wife. She was laughing at something he'd said, lit up from behind by a Hawaiian sunset. That had been their honeymoon. She was now twenty-three years older, but no less beautiful in his eyes. He missed her open expressions, her calming nature, her ability to get him to see the humor in any situation. She was his better half, and he found it near impossible to function without her.
Gabriel closed his eyes. A few tears leaked from his eyes, wetting the pillow beneath his head. "I miss you."
Natalie sighed in pleasure as her heels clicked comfortably on the tile in Gabriel's home. If she had anything to say about it, this would one day be her home, too. Grabbing her tablet, she scoured all her e-mails, searching for something she could inform Gabriel of. She couldn't seek him out for no reason, she was just his personal assistant. She only spoke to him if there was something work-related to remind him of. Here it is: a photographer rescheduled. He would have to be notified immediately.
Natalie strode around the mansion, searching for Gabriel. There was no one else around, and Natalie found a kind of comfort in that. She was the only one around who could take up Gabriel's attention, like she was special. Maybe one day he would think of her as special, too.
Natalie systematically made her way through the mansion, ignoring Adrien as he glared at her when she checked if Gabriel was in his room. He slammed the door in her face and she took that as a no. That only left one room left in the mansion: Gabriel's bedroom.
She stood in front of the door, heart racing and blood rushing to her cheeks. Was this intentional? Was he starting to see her as something more? She clutched the tablet to her chest, took a deep breath, and slowly turned the knob on the door.
All the lights were off, but Natalie could still make out everything in the room. She took a moment to just soak it in. Directly opposite the door was a wall of massive windows, thick purple drapes covering them. The floor was covered with a plush blue-gray carpet. To the left was another set of doors, probably to the master bedroom. On the right was a California King sized bed with a canopy. The duvet was a darker blue than the carpet, and on either side was dark brown bedside tables. On the side closest to the door, Gabriel slept, fully clothed.
Natalie shook her head, amused. The dear man, he worked too hard for his own good. She hesitated, taking off her shoes. The carpet was soft and cool under her aching feet, and she flexed her toes in the soft material.
Gabriel made a noise, so after she put her shoes back on, Natalie made her way to his side. He had slept with his shoes on. She reached over him and pulled them off. His glasses had fallen to the ground, so she picked those up and placed them on the bedside table. She was sure there would be a picture of Emelie there, so she didn't even look. This was a special moment; she wouldn't ruin it for herself.
She reached her hand out and ran her fingers through his silver hair. Just as she remembered: unbearably soft. Tears gathered in Natalie's eyes. She loved this man. She'd loved him for years. Why did he have to go and marry that bitch?
Tears stung her eyes. She dug around her pockets for a tissue or napkin of some sort. Instead, her fingers touched something which felt like paper. Confused, Natalie pulled it out of her pocket. She pursed her lips, recognizing the brown paper. It was the note Emelie had left her. She opened it and read it. It was too dark to do so comfortably, but she wasn't about to turn on any lights-Gabriel was finally asleep, and she wasn't going to be the one to wake him.
As she read through the missive, Natalie's lips stretched into a smile. Well, wasn't this useful? She pocketed the message, looked at Gabriel one more time, and walked out the door.
