This chapter takes place over several days. We will switch back to the audience next, and cover the time a little more slowly. A lot happens.

Also, there's no physical torture in this chapter, but there is talk of starvation and menstruation.

—

Marinette and Adrien stayed awake as long as possible, just trying to get any joy they could from being with each other. They recounted times where they had been in school and had to leave to fight an Akuma, along with all of the bad excuses that they had come up with along the way.

"I remember being in class and there was boom across the street, I can't even remember what akuma it was, but we both raised our hands at the same time, and at that second, I just found myself thinking, 'no Adrien! Stay in your seat!'"

"I remember that! Because Miss Bustier let you go, and said that I had to wait until you came back! I had to make a big fuss and pretend that I was going to piss my pants before she let me go! And then when Chat arrived to the fight, you gave me a hard time about being tardy!"

Marinette outright laughed, unable to contain her amusement at the irony that was their life.

"I hope the school retroactively excuses all our absences," Marinette giggled. "I had perfect attendance before I became Ladybug."

"They better." Adrien added. "I'm not even close to getting perfect attendance because of all the times I had to miss for photoshoots." He paused, thinking. "You know, it's a marvel that I had as good of grades as I did, given how often I wasn't actually there."

"Well, we can't all be geniuses."

"Oh, what are you talking about? You're the smart one, my lady." Then he gave her a little kiss, one that sent goosebumps down her spine.

"Flatterer." She said flatly, despite the smile on her lips.

His stomach growled loudly, and he cringed. "I'm sorry, I'm just…really hungry."

"You don't need to apologize. I'm hungry too."

"How's your hand?" He asked.

"Probably the same as yours. It sucks."

"Yep, that's where I'm at too."

"And your ears?" She asked, knowing that they were still being pulled by that string.

"Definitely infected." He grimaced. "I can't touch them."

"Oh kitty…"

"It's fine. I guess. We can't do anything about it. Sorry to worry you."

She kissed his cheek. "I still worry about you, no matter."

"I worry about you too, Princess."

Marinette nuzzled her face into his shoulder, the good one. He smelled awful, since he hadn't bathed in a week, and she could smell the infection in his ears. But it didn't matter one bit. Because it was Adrien, and he was warm and alive, and right here.

For who knew how long.

He pressed his nose into her hair.

"Ugh, don't smell my hair. It hasn't been washed in days."

"Smells wonderful to me," he cheeked.

Marinette was quiet, pensive, as dread creeped up on her shoulders. "What…do you think Salo meant, when she said we should enjoy our last hours together?"

"I think she's going to kill me." Adrien said, softly. "She acted like she was the most angry with you…"

Marinette bit her lip, hugging him tighter. "I don't think so. Before the wedding, she told me she wanted to torture you in front of me, because it would hurt more."

"Then maybe we'll just be separated for a little while."

Marinette hoped that's what it was. God, she hoped that was it. For a week of this, she sure was taking things better than she ever thought she would. But she attributed all of that to Adrien. Just having him here, being a source of strength, and a reason to keep fighting, had allowed her to keep her sanity.

Without him, surely she'd lose herself to an abyss.

Far too soon, sooner than they were willing, the locks to the door were clicking, and the door was opening.

"Well, I'm disappointed." Salo stated with her arms crossed. "You had several hours to pork, and all you did was kiss and talk about mushy corny shit. I thought kids your age where supposed to be horn dogs."

Neither of them answered.

"Come on, on your feet."

Hesitantly, they both stood, a lot weaker than they had been the first day. Keeping their hands together, they walked out of the closet, and prepared for the next round of torture.

Salo rested her hands on her waist, her expression impossible to discern underneath her sunglasses. "As much as I love being here and taking care of you two, I have some other business to attend to. I have to clean up the mess you made for me. But not to worry, Pasolini will be here, as well as our chef. We will continue to provide the excellent service we have been providing you with. And, I've even updated your rooms! Free of charge!" She gave a nod, and a man on each side took hold of Marinette and Adrien, and began pulling them in opposite directions.

"No!" Adrien cried out, clenching Marinette's hand.

"Come on, Chat, your room is this way." Salo pulled on his bum arm, making him cry out. "Just let go."

"No! My Lady!"

Marinette clenched him just as hard. "Adrien!"

Salo had to manually pry their fingers apart to get them to let go, and even then, they continued to reach out for each other.

"Adrien!"

"My Lady!"

Marinette was dragged down the hall and around the corner, out of sight. She could still hear him crying for her, and she shouted right back until there was silence in return.

"In you go, Miss Bug." Said the man dragging her along. It was another closet. Just as small as the last. But without Adrien, it felt incredibly cold.

The door slammed behind her, and the locks were put in place.

Then, she was all alone.

And it was so quiet.

No hum of an air conditioner, no rush of traffic, nothing. Absolutely nothing but dead silence broken with her own short breaths.

She sat down on the ground, the cold cement floor covered with debris and dust from a bygone era.

So this was it then? Isolation? Solitary? For how long?

At least until the next session of torture. Which would probably be in a few hours at least.

Marinette saw no point in sitting awake with her thoughts, and so she curled up into a ball, and eventually fell asleep.

—

And Adrien thought he was overcoming his claustrophobia.

But being put into a closet that was only a little bit taller than him, and only allowed him to stretch his arms out to his elbows really undid all the progress he was making.

How thick was the door? Would he run out of air in here? There weren't any vents. No slot like there had been in his first cage.

He knelt, and felt along the bottom of the door. The space between it and the floor was barely wide enough to fit his pinkie through.

He needed to calm down and breathe. Slowly. Or else he would suck up all the oxygen and start to suffocate and—

"Oh god!" He shouted, his breathing erratic.

There was no calming down.

Were the walls closer than they were before? This room felt smaller!

Adrien braced his hand on one wall, and his back on the other and pushed.

Solid concrete, it wasn't budging.

"They're going to crush me!" He cried, using every bit of his strength to hold the wall still.

He spent a long time, just holding that pose, until his weak arm started to ache. When it felt like the wall wasn't moving, Adrien slowly slid down the wall onto the floor, pressing his face against the cold metal door, and just trying to catch his breath.

—

Day 3.

As future guardian of the Miraculous, Master Fu and Marinette tried to make a habit of meditating together on Sunday afternoons.

She wasn't buddhist, and neither was her family. Master Fu made it a point that the meditation wasn't religious in nature, but simply a way to keep emotions in order, and not to let anger overwhelm them.

It would be disastrous if either of them were akumatized, after all.

So Marinette crossed her legs, resting her wrists on her knees and just tried to clear all thought from her head.

There was nothing to focus on. No chirping of birds. No chimes singing in the wind.

Nothing to prevent her thoughts from wandering.

Adrien's probably gone by now.

She shook her head, forcing the thought away.

"I am in control. I control my thoughts. Things look bleak, but it's alright. Right now, everything is alright."

Everyone has given up.

"Everything will be fine."

No one cares about a Ladybug that messes up all the time.

Marinette tightened her fists.

"Tikki, help me."

—

Day 7.

They say you should spend every day like it's your last. But for Adrien, every minute, every second, he feared would be his last.

How would they do it? Would they leak gas in under the door? Would it be painless? Or violent?

He refused his food for a few days, afraid that they would poison it, or put whatever drug they had put in a while back. But eventually, his hunger got the best of him, and he devoured the food loaf before he even tasted it.

For a while, Adrien wondered if they had forgotten about killing him. That is what they were going to do, after all, right? If Salo was so hellbent on hating Ladybug, why keep Chat Noir around?

For several hours, maybe a whole day, he stood in the corner, his hands over his mouth, lest they hear him and remember their job.

—

Day 10.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Marinette shuffled her feet over the dusty floor, trying to get some exercise. Her legs felt weak, and it was getting harder and harder just to stand.

As Ladybug, and by extension Chat Noir, she didn't have any body fat. The type of acrobatics and daredevil stunts she performed on the daily burned through any fat she had.

Now, her hunger was burning through her muscles.

The corset she was forced into some two weeks ago, was now loose, and slipped down her form. It was only for the cold that she even wore it.

—

Day 15.

What if Ladybug forgot him?

What if she had escaped, but thought he was dead, and so she left without him?

What if she left him on purpose?

No.

She wouldn't do that.

Of course she wouldn't. She loved him, right? She kissed him.

No, she was probably still here somewhere, suffering.

This was all his fault. If he had gotten to the docks sooner, or if he had catcylsmed the akuma's chains when he had the chance…

That fight repeated itself over and over in his mind. He could clearly see all the mistakes he made. All the openings he missed. All the time he wasted.

It was like that with every akuma fight though, wasn't it? He goofed around too much. He was having fun being a superhero. He dragged out the fight, and thus his freedom. He teased and flirted and was just over all…

A pain.

A failure.

He deserved this.

His father had kept him home, secluded and safe, and if he had just listened to him and stayed put, none of this would have happened.

Marinette would still be Ladybug, but she'd have a different Chat Noir.

A more capable Chat Noir.

They would have found Hawkmoth by now.

"I'm so sorry, My Lady." He said out loud. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry I was so useless. If…If we get out of here…I promise to always protect you. I promise…to always be by your side. I'll make this up to you…"

If he said anything else, no one else would hear it, since he had covered his face with his hand to sob.

—

Day 21.

Being a woman was hard enough without being locked up in a closet with nothing.

She didn't need to get her period too.

That was like…turning on the sprinkler when it's raining.

This all already sucked. So why did she have to deal with this too?

No toilet. No hygiene products. Heck, she wasn't even wearing anything that would help.

When her biweekly meal came, she begged the man, "can I please have some napkins?"

He just laughed in her face.

Up until then, she hadn't realized how much she bled in a week.

The floor was already disgusting, and the cell reeked of the most disgusting smells a person could come across.

She was surprised she hadn't caught some disease and died already.

She was filthy. She hadn't showered in about a month, and she slept in her own waste.

Marinette was barely hanging on to her humanity. People don't live like this. People don't exist like this.

Unless they were in the holocaust?

Maybe. She couldn't remember all that much about that event. She was having a hard time remembering basic things.

Like what her mom's voice sounded like.

And what sunshine felt like.

And what her dad smelled like after a day in the bakery.

These things were slipping away.

—

Day 27.

Adrien clenched his hands into fists and banged on the door.

Hours and hours, he pounded against the metal, hoping anyone would hear him.

There had to be someone nearby that was on his side! A pedestrian! Or a neighbor!

Or…

Plagg!

His miraculous was still in the safe, right? If he could just…tap into that link that he had with the ring…not that there was any sort of link when the ring was off...

But he'd be damned if he didn't try!

"Plagg!" He screamed. "Plagg wake up!"

He only stopped when he got lightheaded. And then only to catch his breath before he was screaming and banging his fists on his doo again.

"PLAGG! PLAGG!"

After a while, it didn't even sound like a name anymore. The word just poured out of his mouth endlessly, his voice breaking with each scream.

"PLAGG! PLAGG!"

"PLAGG!"

He screamed and screamed until his voice went out.

—

Day 32.

No one was coming.

No one was waiting for them.

They had all given up.

So why should she fight anymore?

How long had they been held here? A year?

It felt like it.

Every time she tried to fall into sleep, someone would bang against her door, startling her.

She was done with this.

"Just kill me already."

—

Day 36.

Adrien couldn't stand anymore.

Physically.

His legs were too weak to support him.

His knees ached, because he was unable to stretch his legs in any direction. This cage was just too damn small!

There was supposed to be a fencing tournament coming up. Or maybe it had already passed. He wasn't quite sure how many days he'd been in here.

But there was no way to practice his moves anyway. Not if he couldn't stand.

Wouldn't his father be disappointed? If he forgot all of his skills he worked so hard to learn…

Carefully, he swept the area right in front of the door clear of filth and debris.

Then, he took a sharp bit of concrete and drew a keyboard out on the ground, just barely able to make out the shapes in the faint light.

Once it was all drawn, he began to practice.

Of course, the solid keys didn't make any sound, so he just had to sing the notes out loud to himself. But with the shape his vocal chords were in, they came out as faint whispers instead.

It was good enough. It had to be good enough. Or else he wasn't good enough, and there wouldn't be any point in escaping.

—

Day 39.

She sat in the corner. Her food loaf on the tray sat just inside in the door. It had been there for hours now, but she couldn't find the motivation to eat. Salo was gone, off doing God-knows-what. If she just stopped eating, then she could just die, and spare Salo the satisfaction of finishing her off.

The door opened with a creak, as it always did when dinner arrived.

"Ugh," Salo's voice pierced through the darkness. "Disgusting. I told you not to kill them."

"We didn't!"

A flashlight shone in her eyes and she winced against it, the harsh light like a stab to the brain.

"Would you look at that!" Salo laughed. "Still just barely hanging on."

One of the men nearby gagged loudly.

"Yeah, that's foul. Ugh…she certainly smells like she's dead. Alright piggy, on your feet."

But Marinette didn't move.

"I said stand, Maggot! Did you forget how to listen?"

"…can't…" she whispered.

"What?"

"I…I can't…stand…"

Salo rolled her eyes, and then snapped her fingers.

The men were hesitant. "Do we really have to touch her? She looks like she has the plague."

"Just get her over to the old showers. There's a drain, we'll hose her off."

Marinette turned her face away in the beam of the flashlight, hiding her face in the wall.

A man grabbed her arm and hauled her far too easily onto her feet.

She wobbled on her legs, but eventually found some sort of balance.

The corset slipped right off her body, as if it hadn't been tied on at all.

Salo gagged at the sight of her naked body, what was left of it, at least.

Slowly, she was led to a room that looked like it had once been communal showers. The pipes were rusted and eroded.

But there was a hose with a sprayer on the end running from down the hall.

Her escort let go of her, and gestured her into the room.

She had to use the tile to walk farther in. But eventually, she got to the place they wanted her, and they blasted her with the hose.

The water was absolutely bone chilling, and the pressure nearly knocked her on her ass. But instead she just slowly turned around, allowing them to power wash her.

There was no soap, so the blood and filth still stained her skin, but it wasn't caked on anymore.

After Salo deemed her clean enough, her beloved hospital gown dropped into her hands. She scrambled to put it on, and warm up.

Then she was led from the showers into another room with a table and chairs.

"Take a seat. The next session starts in a few hours, and I have a visitor for you."

"…who?"

"A good friend of yours. They missed you so so much. Talked about you all the time."

Marinette just sighed, her eyes going to the table.

"No? You don't care?"

"…doesn't matter."

"Oh!" Salo sang, a chill running down her spine. "That's just what I wanted to hear! You've finally cracked, haven't you? Oh it took a while, but man, that was worth it! Alright. On to the next phase!" She laughed and laughed, slamming the door behind her as she left.

Marinette sauntered over and sat in the chair, still shivering.

The next phase? There was more?

"Just let me die." She whispered. "I just want to die."