Happy Thanksgiving! (To those of you that celebrate it.)
Today I am thankful for having an amazing group of readers that continue to make me laugh with their comments and hang in there when it gets rough. I've received so many fan pieces that I've actually cried. I keep waiting for that one comment that's like 'you're a sick twisted weirdo' to come, but it never does. So I thank you!
Despite what this fic may say about me, I am a Christian, so there may be some…religious tones coming up. I don't want to impress my own faith on cartoon characters, but…I just thought I make that statement so you can understand my decisions in the future.
We are officially out of the torture section of the fic, but this chapter and the next(?) are still pretty gory. But judging by the comments, that might be a good thing. (There will be some recap of the last chapter though.)
*Cracks knuckles* Time to put my blackbelt to use!
—
It was a rough day at the Agreste mansion.
Nino had risen for school far too early, after not having slept much. He showered and dressed before coming downstairs and picking through the pastries in the kitchen for breakfast. He came into the living room, being the first one there, and sat on the couch to watch the stream for an hour or so before going to classes.
Except what he saw on the screen made him drop his croissant.
Or better, what he didn't see. Adrien and Marinette were gone.
The website showed three live videos. One of each of their cells, and one of the 'torture chamber'. The footage of the cells had a green hue to it, being shot with night vision cameras.
But those feeds were just a dark green blankness, while the torture chamber was empty.
Afraid he might of missed something, Nino rewound the stream, checking to see what happened.
Then he caught it. First Marinette turning her camera in, and then Adrien doing the same.
So what next? He brought back to the live feed, and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Tom came in, yawning. "You're up early."
"Marinette and Adrien turned their cameras away."
Tom frowned slightly, and then shrugged. "Maybe they got tired of people watching them, and they wanted some privacy."
"I don't think—look!"
About twenty minutes after they had moved the cameras, Adrien was being pulled back into big room. The stream to the two cells cut off completely.
"Where's Marinette?" Tom wondered with panic.
"Isn't life just so unfair?" Salo said, shoving Adrien into the room. "You actually made it out! But your precious Lady threw you to the dogs. That's what she's always done, hasn't she? Let you take the hits, let you get hurt or straight up die? As long as she sets things right, who cares? You can take all the hits, all the trauma. You're her meat shield. You don't matter to her at all. You're just a tool. A sidekick. And she left you behind, because you're a dead weight."
Adrien wasn't protesting.
"Come on dude! You know Marinette cares about you! Don't let her get inside your head!"
"They got out? Marinette's out?" Tom breathed.
Salo snapped in front of his face. "Bah, he's so out of it, I doubt he can even hear us."
"Did someone put something in his food?" A man spoke from off camera.
"No, it's a sign that he's dying. Close to death, people get really disorientated and can hallucinate. It's a common sight down here."
After that, Nino didn't really stand a chance. Dignity be damned. He sat with his head in his hands, and just cried.
Hours passed, and slowly the others in the hours came to check the stream.
Tom updated them on the development, since Nino couldn't even speak.
Gabriel was livid. Watching Adrien be flogged, what little life he had left in him fleeting with each lash, it was unbearable.
But what could they do? There were no leads.
And where was Marinette?
Gabriel had lost his mother to old age. He remembered sitting in the hospice room, just waiting. Each breath sounding like the final pull on a bow of a cello. All he could do was wait for the symphony to end.
Despite the living room having Alya, Nino, Tom, Sabine, and Gabriel all gathered together, it was quiet. Nothing but the ticking of the clock, and the crack of a whip and a scream every minute.
Gabriel couldn't bare watching, but he couldn't leave the room, because he didn't want to miss a second of his son's heart still beating. So he took to pacing.
Any minute could be his last, and it was agony just sitting and waiting.
A little before sunset, the assembled were startled by the rapid ringing of a doorbell.
Gabriel snarled in anger. How dare someone interrupt such an important moment!
They went ignored, for a minute, before the ringing became more and more insistent. The interloper was not leaving.
With a huff, Gabriel stormed into the lobby to yell at them.
Curious, Alya, Nino, and Sabine followed, but kept in line to see the television.
"Who is it, and what do you want?" Gabriel snapped at the intercom.
"I-I'm so sorry!" A teenage boy was standing at the gate, and he was panting. "My name…is Tanner Chevalier, I think we found Ladybug!"
Gabriel's eyes widened, but he didn't get his hopes up. "What do you mean?! Explain yourself!"
"Yes sir! My brother and I were walking home from school through Montparnasse, and I heard someone banging on an old utility door. My brother had this hunch that it might be Ladybug or Chat Noir, and so we asked. They couldn't talk, probably because her mouth was sewn shut! But we asked if she could knock once for yes, and she did and we couldn't get the door opened so my brother went home to get our dad and a crowbar but I came here to tell you—"
"You came and told me first? Not the police?"
The boy curled in on himself. "Sorry, I just—everyone kind of knows that the police haven't been doing a very good job, so I thought I'd tell you first…"
"No no, Tanner was it?"
"Yes?"
"You did good. Don't go to the police. Anyone with any leads in the case have been killed. I will take care of this."
"Oh!" The boy said, producing a piece of paper. "Here's a map we made with the door on it, and our contact information, if you need to ask us anything."
Gabriel opened the hatch so he could drop the slip in. "This is…if you're right, I will be indebted to you."
"My mom almost died during an akuma attack. We'll call it even." And at that, the boy took off again.
Sabine was right behind Gabriel at this point. "I'll call the police," she stated, her phone already in hand.
"Don't."
She blinked at him. "Don't?! What do you mean don't?! This is the first real lead! You can't think that boy was lying, do you?!"
"No, I'm certain he wasn't."
"Then what are you doing?! My daughter—Marinette's right behind a door in Montparnasse! We have a map!" She just groaned and unlocked her phone.
"I said don't!" He barked. "I'll handle this!"
Tom peered out of the room at the shouting, ready to protect his wife, while Alya and Nino looked on in horror.
Sabine, a normally pretty understanding woman, became frantic. "How the hell do you expect to do anything on your own!? Do you have an army at your disposal?!"
He grabbed her shoulders and gave her a shake. "I am the only chance we have at saving them!"
Sabine stared at him wide-eyed, before Tom rested a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Gabriel. You'd better explain yourself. Now."
Gabriel let go of Sabine, taking a deep breath. "I…I will explain my actions. All of them. Once Adrien and Marinette are safe and in the hospital, I'll tell everything. But right now, I just need you all to trust me."
The other four watched him, but didn't try anything.
Gabriel lifted the lapel of his jacket. "Nooroo?"
A little purple kwami came out, and Alya and Nino, the only others in the room that knew what a Kwami looked like, froze in shock.
"Would I be able to make two akuma, without Catalyst's aid?"
The little kwami looked hesitatingly around at those gathered.
Gabriel snapped his fingers by him. "Focus Nooroo, we are on a time crunch."
"Yes, sorry Master. You…you can make multiple akuma on your own, but you know they become a lot harder to control. Especially if they have different goals from each other and you. If you plan to akumatize Marinette and Adrien…they'll most likely work together, but they will be extremely volatile…and they could potentially break free from your control."
"That's fine. We just need to give them the strength and means to get out. They'll be akumatized for a hour at most."
Nooroo nodded in understanding. "Then it should work."
"You…" Sabine spat, with venom. "You're Hawkmoth?!"
Gabriel sighed. "Yes, I know it comes as quite the shock but—"
Sabine didn't let him finish that sentence before ramming her knee into his groin, and then elbowing him in the back of the head. "Does anyone else have a Miraculous in this room!?"
Nino sheepishly raised his hand, before Alya elbowed him, and he lowered it back down.
Gabriel caught his breath. "…I deserved that. I agree. And I owe you all an explanation…but we have to work quickly if we want to save them."
Alya stepped forward, showing her necklace. "Trixx, let's pounce!" In a flash of orange, Rena Rouge stood in Alya's place. "As cool as Gabriel Agreste has been the last few weeks, I still don't trust Hawkmoth."
"Fine," said Gabriel with a huff. "Don't believe me. But don't you dare try to stop me from saving my son." He removed his tie, revealing his brooch to the room.
Tom snagged his wife and stepped back.
"Nooroo, Dark Wings Rise!" A flash of purple light took over the room, stunning the others for a moment. Then, Hawkmoth was standing in the room, in all of his unholy terror.
It was one thing to hear him confirm it, but to see the suit and the mask, that changed everything.
Sabine let out a sob.
That urged Nino to transform into Carapace too.
"Alright," Hawkmoth began. "Rena Rouge, Carapace, I need to get to my butterflies. You are welcome to follow. Tom, Sabine, I recommend you return to the living room. I promise, I mean no harm."
Tom steered his wife towards the living room. "I guess we have no choice. Just know we still expect that explanation, Gabriel."
Hawkmoth nodded once, and headed to his office.
Rena Rouge and Carapace followed silently, as Gabriel activated the hidden elevator. They travelled together to the dark room filled with little white butterflies.
"I want to be angry, but my fan girl is freaking out." Whispered Rena.
"Would one of you pull up the stream, please?" Hawkmoth spoke softly, as the window opened.
Carapace held out his shield, a screen lighting up on the inside.
Adrien cried out in pain as the stream came up.
"He's still with us," Hawkmoth said with a tightness in his voice. "We can't waste anymore time." He coaxed a butterfly to his hand, evilizing it. "Don't go far, my little akuma, I have a friend for you." He made another, and together they headed out the window.
"And now we wait."
Looking back at the stream, it was then that Marinette was escorted into the room. She looked dirtier and even more exhausted, if that was possible. Her feet dark with dirt and bruises.
"That would be one lash a minute, over the ten hours you were gone...so, 600? Does that sound right?" Salo spoke.
"Technically 487, madam," Said a voice off screen. "We broke for lunch."
"Oh yes, I'm glad someone was taking count. You know, the science of lashings is very interesting. The more time you give the body between strikes, the more time it has to clot blood, and deal with pain. And if you spread out the lashes over more parts of the body, the less likely a person is to suffer nerve damage or organ failure. We did make sure to spritz him down with rubbing alcohol, so he shouldn't get infected."
"They're in Montparnasse." Hawkmoth announced. "I'm feeling a lot of frustration and anger, but it's hard to pinpoint one source."
"What do you mean?" Rena demanded.
"There's a lot of upset people over here. And a lot in pain from the hospital."
"But there's got to be a stronger feeling somewhere, right?" Asked Nino. "Marinette and Adrien should be angrier and in more pain than everyone else."
"Yes, I agree. I'll keep looking."
The assembled winced as Marinette was tied up too, and her flogging began.
Hawkmoth grit his teeth. "Damn them. That just brought up the anger of everyone in Paris." He grunted in pain. "It's overwhelming!"
"Don't you dare give up!" Rena scolded. "You said you were our last hope! You fail, and I'll—I'll beat you to a pulp!" It was a weak threat, she knew.
"I'm not giving up!" Hawkmoth barked back. "I'm just—stating that it's not as easy as it seems." He groaned. "It's like having thousands of people shouting at once, and trying to pick out one voice. Now, quiet. I have to focus."
His explanation did make sense, she supposed. But Rena was still on edge, and worried that this wouldn't be enough.
They waited, as Hawkmoth stood silently with his eyes closed. He looked increasingly nauseous as time went on.
"How many was that?" Asked Salo, from the stream.
"150, on the nose."
"How do you feel, Little Piggy?"
Marinette's voice was barely audible, but Hawkmoth heard it. "…I have…a bone to pick…with you…" She managed between trembling breaths.
"Oh honey…you're not doing anything to me. Even if I just stood here, unarmed, undefended…you wouldn't be able to hurt me. You're too weak."
"Why would she say that?" Said Rena, aloud. "It doesn't answer the question, and it's not much of a threat…"
Hawkmoth gasped. "That clever girl!"
"What? What is it? Did you find them?!"
"Not quite, but I will!" Said the man, grinning maniacally. "I wasn't looking deep enough!"
"Deep enough?" Rena parroted.
"The catacombs."
Deep deep underground. Sealed off from the city by forbidden entrances. Almost impossible to get to unless you knew how. Or if you were small, like a butterfly.
The two akuma found their way down through a sewer grate, and then followed the trail of pain.
Hawkmoth doubled over once they were underground.
"Mr. Agreste…?" Rena wondered carefully.
"This…these feelings…" He gasped. "Are so strong…they have to be…"
The akuma slid under the door of a small closet, and melted into the thick metal collars around both of their necks.
His eyes shot open as he was overcome with the most putrid, raw, painful anger he'd ever felt. It made him heave. Then Hawkmoth took a massive breath and stood slowly. "I've got them."
"You found them!?" Rena shouted, grabbing onto his jacket.
"Yes, but we still need to get them out."
"But…they both looked so weak. Can akumatizing them really be enough?"
"I think so." He assured. Then with a deep breath, he gathered himself and activated the connection. "Ladybug…Chat Noir…"
On the stream, the butterfly mask was barely noticeable. Marinette sat up a little straighter.
"It's been a long time. We've all missed you. I'm sorry it took me so long to find you. It wasn't as easy as I had hoped. You've taken care of Paris for so long. Now let me take care of you. In exchange, I ask that you go home and get healed. No Miraculous required. What do you say?"
Marinette smiled, relieved tears flowing from her eyes.
"Yes, Hawkmoth." And a purple smoke engulfed them both.
—
All she could see was purple. Her wounds soothed, her muscles strengthened, her exhaustion waned. It was almost like being Ladybug again. Almost.
"Lady Lacrima, named for the tears that brought me to you. I am giving you powers you are familiar with. The powers to create. Though you may summon as much as you like, you are bound to those only made of metal."
"I can make due, Hawkmoth."
"Grimalkin," He addressed Adrien. "A bastardization of your hero name, I gift you a version of your old powers. With just a touch, you can destroy. It's not as powerful as your old cataclysm, but you can use it as many times as you'd like."
Grimalkin's reply was a pleased growl.
"I look forward to seeing you soon." And with that, he ended the connection.
Lady Lacrima stood, the anger that had been on a rolling boil for the last month, now hot as magma, and lethal to the touch. She offered a hand to her companion. "Are you ready Kitty?"
He purred in response, nuzzling against her hand.
"Then after you."
With just a touch of his finger-length long claws, the door blew open.
Lady Lacrima cracked her neck. "This'll be fun."
Of course, when a door is down off it's hinges, it's bound to make a lot of noise. It was Pasolini that came to check.
The flashlight landed on them, and then soon dropped on the floor. "Don't—Don't come any closer! I'm warning you!"
Lady Lacrima smiled. "Oh, you hear that, kitty? He's warning us."
Pasolini spoke into the mic on his lapel. "We've been compromised! Ladybug and Chat Noir have been—"
Hawkmoth had been kind enough to replace the yo-yo on Ladybug's waist with a whip, and with a snap she caught Pasolini around the neck, silencing him.
"Hush…we'll let them all know we're here soon enough…but first…we want to pay special attention to you." She wrapped the whip around her wrist, bringing the man closer to her. "We pleaded and begged for help, we were humiliated, tortured, starved, and driven to madness, and you didn't care. You laughed at our suffering, and willingly pinned me in place day after day as that bitch scarred me for life. So now the question is…what do we do to you, to make up for it?"
Pasolini had grabbed the end of the whip that was choking him, and pulled on it in an attempt to speak. "Let…me go…"
Lady Lacrima tilted her head to listen.
"Let me…go…and I'll…I'll make it worth…your while…I..I promise!"
Lady Lacrima looked at him flatly. "You promise? What would you do?"
"Money…power…protection…anything you want…I can get it for you."
She smiled at him, pulling the whip tighter. "I want my innocence back."
Pasolini only had a second to think before a knife materialized in her hand, and she stabbed it through his eye. The cord around his neck prevented his cry of pain from escaping.
Grimalkin let out a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a hiss.
Lady Lacrima forced the man down to his knees, and rested her foot on his shoulder. "I suppose we'll make this quick. We have a lot of revenge to inflict." She pressed down her heel, forcing the man to face ground, then she summoned a javelin. With a mighty heave, she sent it through his shoulder and into the floor, pinning him like an insect.
Grimalkin chattered, circling him like a jungle cat.
Another javelin and another pin. Then she released her whip. "I'm sorry, love. You've been so patient. Why don't you finish him off?"
Grimalkin let out a sickening snarl before brandishing his claws.
"What are you doing?!" Pasolini asked, his voice hoarse and full of terror. "Please!"
But Lady Lacrima and Grimalkin were beyond mercy. There was no compassion, no hesitation, no empathy.
Only dark horrible thoughts that could only stew in the minds of tormented souls.
Though he only had use of one hand, Grimalkin tore into the flesh of his tormentor, pulling out muscle and tissue with ease.
Pasolini screamed like a little child, blood splattering over everything.
As the blood landed on Lady Lacrima, her suit sizzled and stained, giving her red spots.
Finally, the man's suffering came to an end when Grimalkin placed a boot on his rib cage, took hold of his spine, and ripped it out of his body.
Lady Lacrima petted him like he was an innocent kitten. "Hawkmoth didn't give you a baton. Guess you'll just have to use that."
Grimalkin bared his fangs in a smile.
Another flashlight shone down the hall, the figures in shadow. But Salo's voice pierced through the darkness.
"This bunker is off limits. You have three seconds to run before we open fire!"
Lady Lacrima and Grimalkin shared a loving look, and then they turned and walked towards the light.
"Three…"
Salo could hear something scraping on the wall, and see sparks flickering.
As the intruders approached the group, Salo could hear some of her men gasping in shock and fear. There were only three of them between her and the intruders.
"T-two…" she continued to count down, pretending that she wasn't afraid of what was only a few feet ahead. They stepped into the light, and Salo swallowed thickly.
Lady Lacrima wore an all black suit, insulated with plates to look like armor. She wore a red domino mask, just as she had as Ladybug, but it was broken up with thick black lines running down her face, resembling her namesake. As if she was a reversed Ladybug, blood red spots splattered over her body. A whip instead of a yo-yo dragged across the floor.
Beside her, Grimalkin stalked like a predator. His suit was similar to what it had been as Chat Noir, with cat ears on his head and a belt fashioned as a tail. But instead of small claws at his finger tips, his fingers were coated in metal, making long, razor sharp blades. His bum arm was strapped to his chest in a way resembling a straight jacket. Instead of friendly feline eyes, he had glowing red eyes like a beast, and fangs that looked absolutely lethal.
"One! Open fire!"
Grimalkin darted behind Lady Lacrima, as a shield materialized in front of her. The bullets hailed down on them, drilling against the shield and ricocheting back at them.
"Careful!" Salo demanded over the gunfire, though she could barely be heard.
Lady Lacrima walked over to one side of the hall, leaning one side of the shield against it.
Then the gunfire started to subside as they ran out of bullets.
"Hold your fire," Salo demanded, withdrawing her handgun. Carefully, she stepped forward, and once she was close enough, she kicked the shield away…only to find a hole in the wall.
Then one of the men behind her screamed.
She spun to face him, finding Grimalkin coiled on him like a snake, his claws in his face and his fangs digging into his neck.
Salo took aim, but a whip took hold of her wrist and pulled. The shot meant for Grimalkin hit one of her men in the leg instead. The follow through with the whip brought Salo around, unbalanced, to face Lady Lacrima who held a knife.
But Salo was a fighter. She didn't get where she was on looks alone. She grabbed the wrist with the knife, watching the blade inch closer and closer to her face.
Fighting dirty, the only way she fought, she kicked Lady Lacrima in the side of knee, bringing her to the ground. Then she took the opportunity to run, leaving her last henchman to cover her escape.
Salo escaped back into the torture chamber, where the other ten men in her group were assembled, preparing the next session.
"Arm yourselves! Ladybug and Chat Noir have been akumatized and they have no mercy!"
That was the only warning they got before Grimalkin swept into the room, feral and dripping with blood.
"Jesus Christ!" Someone shouted, before opening fire.
Grimalkin ducked and weaved through the room, never letting himself be a target. He locked onto the man that had flogged him the day before and smiled with sinister intent.
"Oh hell no!" The man shouted in protest. But Grimalkin was too fast, and jammed his claws up the man's nose and pulled forward.
With Grimalkin standing still for the briefest moment, another man with a full auto rifle sighted up.
A red knife tore through his hand before he could get the shot in. The man next to him yanked the weapon away, and took aim at Grimalkin.
Unfortunately for him, Grimalkin was already finished with the poor sod, and leaped at the next available target. The man pointing a rifle at him.
Six shots fired, none hitting Grimalkin, and all hitting Harken, who was sitting behind the computer. Grimalkin grabbed the barrel of the weapon, and snarled. The gun exploded on the man's shoulder and Grimalkin finished the job.
Lady Lacrima went head to head with a huge man wearing brass knuckles. Each swing of his fists whistled, as she danced around just out of reach. Another man with a lead pipe joined the fight, attacking from behind. But the akuma had greatly enhanced Lady Lacrima's speed and perception. She leaned back to avoid the blow, and summoned a machete on the upswing.
Cutting through flesh and bone was not easy, but she sure made it look like it. Two pairs of arms, one brandishing a pipe and the other brass knuckles, clattered to the floor.
The room filled with blood curdling screams.
Lady Lacrima moved onto the next closest victim. A bald man behind the camera. As she made eye contact with him, he held out his arms, defenseless.
"Just end me," he begged.
She stared at him, remembering the pathetic sob story he had concocted earlier when he dragged her back. As an akuma, she found it hard to believe, but decided not to waste the energy. "Make sure you get all this," she told him, gesturing to the camera, before racing off to do more work.
While all of this chaos was going on, Salo sat under the table in the corner, the safe with the Miraculous in her lap. "Come on…come on…" she muttered to it. "1680, that's the combo! Work damn it!"
But in all of Marinette's frantic slamming just an hour before, the lock was jammed.
She looked up to check the state of her men. One was being eviscerated by Grimalkin, while Lady Lacrima strangled one with her whip and had another in the chest with a katana.
It was an absolute bloodbath, and it happened in only a few minutes.
She slammed the safe down in one final attempt to get to the Miraculous.
But it was too late.
A bloody hand enclosed on her ankle, and dragged her out. Salo looked up to glowing red eyes, wide and frantic and bouncing with untapped rage.
She would not go down without a fight. And thankfully, she still had a gun on her hip. She whipped it out and aimed right at his face.
"Let me go, you beast! Or I'll shoot you right between the eyes."
Grimalkin opened his jaw, his fangs glistening with blood. He let out an inhuman snarl, and lunged.
Salo pulled the trigger.
The gun jammed.
But Grimalkin wasn't about to give her a swift death. He grabbed the hand with the gun and pinned it to the floor above her head. Then he growled, activating his power, and a shooting pain took over her hand as she screamed in pain. He knocked her glasses off as he leapt, and crouched next to Lady Lacrima.
"End of the road." She said, her face blank and emotionless.
Salo pulled her hand, or rather her wrist, to her chest. "How the hell did he find you?"
Lady Lacrima shrugged. "You must have gotten sloppy."
"Or you gave him clues! I should have killed you weeks ago!"
"You should have," Lady Lacrima agreed. "You should have let me die with compassion in my heart. But you didn't. You created a monster. Two of them."
Salo spat at her. "You're a product of Hawkmoth! I only avenged my Eddy!"
"After all this, you're still justifying your heinous actions. You're so lost in your depravity, that you can't even see how low you've sunk."
"So what now?" She sneered. "Now that the roles are reversed, what are you going to do?"
Lady Lacrima reach out and caressed the woman's face, leaving a smear of blood on her cheek. "The roles are far from reversed, Salo." She stated, holding out her arms. A buster sword, one bigger than any human could wield, materialized in her hands. "I'm more powerful than you could ever hope to be. And you…there's no punishment on Earth that befits you."
"Will you kill me then?"
"That depends…do you believe in God?"
Salo scoffed. "What are you, my Nonna? Go ahead, kill me. Let your God punish me."
Lady Lacrima adjusted the sword in her hand. "He'll get his turn."
Salo's lip trembled as she attempted to scoot away.
"It's funny. Without those glasses, you look almost human. And all this time, I thought you were a soulless machine. But if you have a soul…you can burn in hell." And she slammed the blade down, down through flesh and bone and into the cement, separating her legs from her torso.
The woman screamed in agony, clawing at the ground to escape.
Claws ripped into her stomach, pulling her intestines out and spilling them on the floor.
"What do you think Salo? Should we leave you like this?"
Salo didn't answer, only squealed and cried out as she writhed on the floor like a worm. Her vision was blurred, but she could see the lights above her head.
Then there was a silhouette, holding out long claws. Claws that pulsed and churned with dark energy. They came closer and closer to her face.
It burned. Hotter than any fire she'd felt before. She heard her skin sizzling and cracking.
Then there was nothing.
—
Lady Lacrima looked down at her tormentor's remains. A head turning to dust, a torso disemboweled…and legs separated from the rest.
She wished she could have done more.
A purple mask lit up over her face. "My dear, you are free. Find your way to the surface, and I will have an ambulance waiting for you. Once you are with the paramedics, I will take back the akuma."
"No."
Lady Lacrima felt his fear. "No? What do you mean, no?"
"Paris has gotten lazy with Ladybug and Chat Noir around. And in our absence, things have only gotten worse."
"You're not well, Marinette. And Adrien was almost…you need help."
"And we'll get it. But we have business to attend too. Thank you for the akuma, I'll be taking it now. Goodbye." And she cut the connection.
The bald man who had pissed himself behind the camera trembled as Lady Lacrima looked to him.
"I am Lady Lacrima. This is Grimalkin. We seek Justice, and Justice will be what we get."
Grimalkin pounced at the camera, destroying it with his touch.
The man skittered over to Salo's torture table and grabbed a flashlight and the lockbox with the Miraculous. "Here! There's—There's arrows on the walls to lead you to the surface! Just follow the trail, and you should come up in an alleyway in Montparnasse!"
Lady Lacrima took the flashlight. "I thank you. I knew it would be smart to spare you."
The man cried like a child. "I don't—I don't deserve it!"
"You will call the police, and escort them down here."
"Yes ma'am!"
Then she turned to Grimalkin. "Would you be so kind as to open the safe, kitty?"
He just dragged his claw over the lock, and the lid popped open. She took the Miraculous and put them in his suit pocket. "Hold on to these for us, please? I don't think I could bare to let Tikki see me like this."
Grimalkin growled in agreement.
Then with a solemn nod to the remaining henchman, she took Grimalkin's hand, and together, they left.
The hall was just as long and dark, but with the flashlight, she could see the endless tunnels she had wandered earlier. "I tried, kitty. But it's a maze down here. We're in the catacombs, you know? I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I didn't want Salo to overhear and move us. But I guess Hawkmoth got my hint."
Grimalkin let out a happy chirp.
"Well, we don't have to worry about that anymore. Come on, we're almost there!"
They came to a ladder that led to a manhole cover. With her enhanced strength, popping it off was a cinch.
It was night now, and a thunderstorm had rolled in. Rain poured as they climbed out of the tunnel and out to the street. Paris was a blur in the torrent. Lights flickered and sounds of the city interrupted by the slapping of water.
Both teens stood, letting the rain rush over them like a healing shower.
Marinette looked at her partner, and let out a breath. Exhausted and relieved, she leaned on his chest.
He wrapped an arm around her showers and turned his face to the sky.
Justice would reign, blood would be shed. But for the moment, they just stood.
Just being free.