Smog and grey clouds filled the pre-dawn sky of Paris, coating the world in a dirty yellow haze. Adrien closed his eyes and soaked in the feeble light; he prayed for a day that was better than the last.

The metal beneath him was cold. The muggy air was oppressive. The pain in his wrist was dull, constant, and pounding. He scraped his nails up and down the cast the paramedics had fitted onto him, the vibrations running up his arm and into his head where they drowned out his thoughts, numbing his mind, as he sat silent on the back edge of an ambulance.

He refused to acknowledge the Agreste mansion looming over him; he kept his eyes down. But the blue flashing lights from police cars and ambulances reflected off the wet tarmac and burned into his eyes.

He shivered.

The Gorilla wrapped the blanket the paramedics had given Adrien tighter around his shoulders and gave him a comforting squeeze. Adrien gave a half-hearted smile in return but didn't quite meet his bodyguard's eyes. He looked away. He tried not to panic; he did his best to breathe.

A part of him wished he could stay here forever, here in this Schrodinger's dawn; in a world where there's still a chance that not everything had gone wrong.

He put his head in his hands, dread knotted in his stomach.

The chatter from police radios grated on his mind. The lights blurred and swam in front of his eyes. The whispers from paramedics made his jaw clench and teeth grind.

And, when everyone became alert, terror shot down his spine.

Adrien snapped his head up to see Gabriel step out the house – handcuffed and led by two police officers.

Adrien stared, a part of him still unable to comprehend that the man who had raised him was Hawkmoth.

Gabriel locked eyes with Adrien. Adrien's blood ran cold. Because he was smiling. He was smiling. It sent shivers up Adrien's spine.

He hadn't smiled like that since…

Adrien snapped his head back to the house and leapt to his feet as officers led another person out. He stopped breathing. His blanket fell forgotten to the floor.

Because there she was. Beautiful and golden and alive.

'Maman!' he screamed and burst into tears. His mother spun at his cry. A hand grabbed Adrien's shoulder but he threw it off and dashed towards her.

Tears filled his mother's iridescent eyes, and then he was barreling into her and being swept up in her arms, and it was everything he'd dreamed; her scent, her warmth, her love.

'Maman.' His voice cracked as his mother held him tight, her own tears soaking into his hair.

'My darling, my Adrien,' she spoke, over and over. And they cried in each other's arms, finally together again.

But then cold began seeping through Adrien. He shivered. His mind wrapped around something he was refusing to realise.

Because if his mother was here, it meant… it meant…

Adrien slipped in his mother's grip.

It meant, Marinette…

Cold air ripped through his throat as he gasped for breath which escaped him.

'Adrien?' his mother said, concern laced in her voice.

Adrien pushed away from her, searching the crowds, desperate. And when he saw the girl with dark bunches being led from the house, the sudden rush of relief shattered him to pieces. Marinette was alive and unharmed. He fell to his knees.

'Adrien!' His mother grabbed his face, lifting him up, as he wailed and cried. She forced him to look into her eyes. 'I'm here.' Her voice was soft. 'What's the matter?'

'M-Marin…Mari—' he couldn't get her name out he was crying so much. 'I-I…I need—,' he pushed his mother away. He needed to go to her.

His mother pulled him back.

'No,' she said quietly.

Adrien froze. The tears stilled on his cheeks. He looked at his mother, confusion flickering in his eyes as he glanced at the hand tightening around his wrist. 'She's been through so much,' his mother said. 'Let her go.'

Adrien turned back to Marinette with distress. Their eyes locked. Hers blue and striking against the early morning dawn. His, pale and green with sickness and worry.

'But—'

'No,' his mother repeated, low and final. Her grip tightened. And Adrien slackened; he did as she asked.

Because she was his mother, and he's always done what she's said.

Adrien watched an officer lead Marinette to a police car. Her unreadable blue gaze held his – piercing him to the core. And time slowed. Until eventually, Marinette had no choice but to get into the vehicle. She tore her gaze away. The car sped off with a flash of blue lights.

Adrien groaned and doubled over as bitterness flooded his tongue. Bile rose in this throat; sickness churned in his gut; an overwhelming wrongness made him want to throw up.

And when he saw the body bag…

It all came pouring up.

Marinette lay on her side, curled in her bed, clutching the bedsheets as she stared at the small metal brooch in her hand. She ran her thumb across its surface; it was cool and smooth. She flipped it in her fingers and let its blue and silver catch the light.

She shoved it under her pillow when there came a knock at her trapdoor.

'Marinette?' It was Alya. 'How are you feeling?'

Marinette didn't say anything. Alya padded across the room, and Marinette curled up tighter, despite the pain in her chest, as her friend climbed up the stairs to her bed.

'Marinette?' Alya repeated, the bed creaking as she perched on the end. 'Did you want to come with us?'

Marinette clenched her eyes shut and buried her head, not trusting herself to speak. She honestly didn't know if she wanted to go or not. Though she knew she should.

It was Nathalie's funeral after all.

But she couldn't get those eyes out of her head: the desperate green of Adrien's stare…

The chilling green of his mother's glare.

'Adrien would appreciate you being there,' Alya said softly.

Marinette gritted her teeth and clenched her sheets in her fists and desperately tried to hold down her tears.

It didn't work.

'Oh, Marinette.' Alya climbed onto the bed as Marinette started crying. Alya stroked her head. 'Jesus, you're burning up. Mrs Cheng!' she called down the stairs. 'I think she's got a fever!' She brushed away the stray strands of hair that had gotten caught in Marinette's tears. 'Don't worry, Mari, you don't have to come. You're in no condition for a funeral.'

Those were the words that made Marinette crack.

'Neither is Adrien!' she cried. 'Yet he has to go!' And she dissolved into tears at the unfairness of it all.

Alya lay next to her and pulled her close, holding steady against the waves of guilt and anguish that poured forth from her friend.

'He-he's been through s-so much,' Marinette managed to say through her sobs, 'a-a-and—'

'So have you,' Alya said quietly, a deep understanding hidden behind her simple words.

Marinette stilled, her breath caught in her throat. She pulled back and took in Alya's unwavering, knowing gaze before slowly sitting upright, in shock.

'How?' Marinette whispered. She'd had to reveal her alter-ego to the police when giving her witness statement, but that information had been classed as confidential. And due to her age, her civilian name had stayed out of the press, so her identity, for now, still remained largely a secret.

'I'm a journalist,' Alya said, sitting up and giving a bittersweet smile. 'Nino and I put the pieces together as soon as it all came out.'

Marinette swallowed the news.

'A-And…you know who…Chat Noir…?' she whispered.

Tears rose in Alya's eyes. She nodded.

'His own dad,' Marinette said, her voice quiet with horror. 'He was f-fighting his own, his own, his—'

Alya threw herself around Marinette. 'I know,' she said, tears spilling. 'I know.'

Marinette gritted her teeth and buried her head in her friend's shoulder. She tried to hold her sobs down, she truly did, but they smashed through her walls. They tore at her mind. They ripped at her soul, exposing torment for what her partner had been going through, and anguish for Adrien's destroyed life.

Then, when Alya began pulling away, saying she had to go to the funeral, that memory of Nathalie burst into her mind – of her stepping into that light, and dying in Gabriel's arms.

'No, no, no,' Marinette whispered, voice rising with panic as she held Alya captive in her arms, not letting her go.

'Marinette?' Alya asked, scared and worried for her friend.

'I-I, I was t-there.' Marinette's voice cracked. 'And I…I couldn't…I couldn't…!' Her breathing quickened and chest shuddered. 'N-Nat-Nat—' Hysteria overwhelmed her. 'I-I-I just let her—!'

'Don't!' Alya cried, squeezing her friend so tight if forced the air from her lungs. 'Don't go there! There's nothing you could have done.'

Marinette wailed, fresh tears poured down her face. She cried and cried and she gripped Alya tight until her mother appeared and gently prised her from her friend.

Words were said but none of them made it through Marinette's fevered, guilt-stricken mind. Her mother forced her to drink a hot liquid that made her swallow her tears. There was the sound of her trapdoor shutting. And then silence.

Marinette lay in bed alone, her tears dripping onto the pillow. Tikki, Plagg, and Nooroo crept from their hiding places and curled up in her hair and shoulders.

Tikki and Plagg were severely damaged from the wish, and Nooroo from his being forced into evil. Master Fu had said they would all heal in time, they were immortal beings after all, but it would take time.

And so the four ruined beings took solace in one another as the clock on Marinette's nightstand ticked away the time. Her tears slowed to a stop, her breathing evened. Her eyes focused on the object lying next to her pillow.

Her phone.

She stared at it.

Just stared at it.

Then, ever so slowly, she moved her hand towards it. She picked it up, unlocked it, and clicked on Adrien's contact. Her thumb hovered over the call button. She didn't press down; she couldn't. The green eyes from his profile smiled up at her, so different from the desperate ones that were etched in her mind. So different from the cold ones belonging to his mother.

The seconds turned into minutes and her hands started to shake and his picture swam as fresh tears poured down her face. She dropped the phone into the blankets and curled in on herself once again.

She slid her hand under the pillow and clutched the peacock miraculous, bile rising in her throat and pain spreading from her chest as that memory rose to her mind's surface.

Of her creeping towards the place where Nathalie lay while Gabriel and Emilie were distracted in their embrace. Of Emilie's laughter ringing out. Of their euphoria and joy.

Of her taking the pin from Nathalie's growing cold body.

'I'm sorry,' Marinette whispered, clutching the pin so tight it bit into her skin. Yet who she was speaking to, she wasn't quite sure. Adrien? Herself? Nathalie who she couldn't save? 'I'm so sorry.' She leant into her pain and wept into her pillow. And somewhere, in her darkness, she slid into sleep.

The funeral had been short. A professional affair.

The sun had beamed down from a stunning blue sky, with not a single wisp of cloud in sight.

Emilie gripped her son's hand while Adrien kept his eyes down; he didn't want to see the man on the other side of the coffin.

'…and though we will mourn Nathalie,' the priest's voice drifted over, 'we will carry her in our thoughts, and she will live on in our hearts…'

Adrien raised his head. Gabriel Agreste stood opposite smartly dressed in a suit, the only allusion to his alter ego were the two officers either side of him and the cuffs on his wrists. A hollowness crept through Adrien when he realised Gabriel had only eyes for his wife.

Adrien glanced at his mother. Her green eyes glistened beneath the thin black veil that was artfully draped across her face. She, too, gazed straight at Gabriel.

'…to earth; ashes to ashes; dust to dust, we now commit Nathalie to her final resting place.'

Adrien trembled.

Alya slipped her hand into his. Nino gripped his shoulder. And Adrien's tears fell thick and fast as Nathalie was lowered into her grave.

If the funeral had been short, the court case had been shorter.

'I plead guilty,' Gabriel's soft voice echoed around the courtroom.

Adrien stared blankly at the wooden decor and marble, wondering how such a beautiful room could be home to such misery.

Attempted murder for Marinette. Manslaughter for Nathalie. Terrorism. Encouragement of terrorism. And Cruelty to Children.

Gabriel Agreste received life imprisonment.

His mother burst into tears at Gabriel's sentence. She cried into Adrien's shoulder and Adrien wrapped his arms around her, but it was instinctual, nothing more. There was no emotion in his gesture.

And when everyone was distracted after the proceedings were over, Adrien made his way to the exit; he glanced around the room.

Only Chloé noticed him slip from the building.

Adrien walked. He walked for hours.

Down main roads and back alleys, through parks and tourist attractions. Past banners and signs celebrating Hawkmoth's apprehension, all worn and torn from their time spent in the elements.

Adrien ended up along the banks of the Seine. It was overflowing with people enjoying the late afternoon, for it was a beautiful day; the sun was warm in the sky, tinging the blue edges pink as it made its way downward.

He walked. And walked. Faster and faster, trying to escape his mind and the thoughts running riot – desperate to stop them overwhelming and breaking him – until he came to a spot devoid of all people and he stopped. He couldn't walk any further.

Adrien stared at the water, listening to its gentle lapping as sunlight danced on its surface; it was mesmerising and filled his mind and vision with a comforting numbness.

How long he stood there, he didn't know, watching the sun lower on the horizon, painting the sky orange as lights flickered on, one by one, on the far side of the river.

Adrien pulled out his phone and stared at the black screen; it was strangely heavy in his hand. He unlocked it and clicked on Marinette's contact. But he couldn't bring himself to press down.

If he'd told Ladybug earlier who Hawkmoth was, he could have kept her out of harm's way.

If he'd just told her earlier, their miraculous' would've been safe.

If he'd just told her earlier, they wouldn't be in this mess! They could have figured something out!

He clenched his eyes shut and grimaced. It was his fault they'd both been captured. It was his fault she'd nearly died! If he hadn't been such a COWARD Nathalie would still be alive!

If he'd just told her earlier!

Rage flared within him. He gave an incoherent cry and smashed his phone to the ground with terrifying ferocity, shocking his mind and splintering the calm outside.

His chest heaved. His throat tightened. The shards of glass reflected back at him, glittering gold in the evening light.

If he'd told Ladybug earlier, his mother would still be dead.

The sudden anger vanished. Uncertainty took its place. Adrien sank to the floor amongst the shattered ruins of his life, and put his head in his hands to stop the silent tears from leaking out.

He let his darkness envelop him.

The blazing gold sky turned into dusk, then to night.

It was dark by the time Adrien headed back to the mansion. The night was starless and bitterly cold.

He paused outside the door, shivering. Warm light poured from the windows and Adrien let some of it seep into his skin. For his mother was alive and well, and, despite everything, for that he was grateful.

He entered the house and smiled when he saw her, stood at the base of the stairs. Though his smile slipped when he realised she was gazing up at the portrait of him and his father in mourning. She turned and gave him that loving smile of hers.

'Adrien,' she swept him up in her arms and he melted into her embrace. 'My darling, where have you been?' She rubbed his arms. 'You're freezing.'

He shrugged and gazed at her, at her golden smile and warm eyes. Tears pricked his eyes and he hugged her again. And she held him.

'Shhh, don't cry,' she murmured. 'I've got you, I'm here.' Her warmth flowed into him. 'I love you,' she said softly.

Adrien's breath shuddered when she said that, he still wasn't used to hearing those words in that voice.

'I love you too,' he whispered back.

They stayed like that a while, mother holding son, while the portrait of his father stared down on both of them.

Eventually the eyes of the portrait became too much for Adrien.

He pulled back and looked at it. Emilie followed his gaze.

'It's overly dramatic,' she said, shaking her head. 'But then, that's just like your father.' And she smiled. Adrien stared. How could she smile?

The warmth vanished within him. He pulled himself from her embrace and simply looked at her.

'What?' she asked. 'What's wrong?'

His eyes widened when he realised she had no clue. His brow furrowed with disbelief. He turned away.

'Adrien,' she grabbed his arm, 'talk to me.'

He looked down at her grip. 'I have nothing to say.' He wrenched his arm from her grasp and strode up the stairs.

'Adrien? Adrien!' she cried, running up after him. 'Adrien, please! Your father did wrong, I admit it but—'

'Did wrong?' Adrien froze. He turned and stared at his mother. 'Did wrong?' His voice rose. 'He committed murder!'

'Attempted.'

'HE KILLED NATHALIE!'

Adrien's chest rose and fell. His mother said nothing. Adrien stopped breathing as the tension stretched between them.

'Are you saying you wish he hadn't brought me back?' His mother's eyes were cold and her voice, deathly quiet.

'What?' Adrien recoiled. 'N-No, no, no, I—' his eyes flickered with confliction. 'Of course, of course not! But I…it's—'

His eyes widened.

'No.' Adrien took a step back, his voice firm and rising. 'No, don't do that to me.'

'Adrien?' Emilie cocked her head to the side, concern filling her expression. 'What do you mean?'

Adrien pushed down the hurt that was building inside of him. 'Don't twist my words.' His voice was terse and withdrawn.

'Oh, Adrien.' Emilie rushed forward and swept him up in her arms, and Adrien hated how he accepted her embrace. His tears leaked out. 'My darling boy,' she murmured kissing the top of his head, 'I'm so sorry.' And Adrien hugged her back, for she was warm and comforting.

For she was his mother.

'I love you so much,' she murmured.

But Adrien's gut twisted. Because those words didn't feel the same as they had earlier.

'I love you too,' he replied, flat and robotic.

She cupped his face and kissed his forehead before running her hands down to his shoulders, fixing his collar that had bent out of place. Adrien shivered and subconsciously shrugged off her hands. She looked at him with such love and tenderness.

'You've been through so much, my brave, sweet boy,' she said, smiling sadly. 'You need to rest. Why don't you and I—'

'I'm gonna stay the night at Nino's.'

Emilie blinked. 'Oh.' She drew in on herself. 'Okay. Do you have everything you need? Can I help you with anyth—?'

'I'm fine,' Adrien said, turning away. 'I'll say goodbye in a minute.'

Adrien ran to his room and haphazardly stuffed a bag with his things, using more force than necessary as he bit back his tears and fought with his breathing.

He gave a fleeting goodbye to his mother, promising to see her the next day, before stepping out onto the street. He took a deep breath. Held it. And let it out in a rush. His tears sank back down to a manageable level.

He made his way to his friend's house.

Nino was surprised to see Adrien on his doorstep, but before Adrien had even the chance to begin to explain himself, Nino embraced him tightly and pulled him into the house, and led him up to his bedroom.

Nino's room was cosy and warm; dishevelled in a way that felt lived in and loved, and the tension seeped from Adrien as he curled up in Nino's desk chair, feeling safe and at home in this room so different to his own.

Nino sat cross-legged on his bed and watched his friend.

'How're you holding up, man?' he asked softly.

Adrien glanced to the side. He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand.

'I'm tired,' he admitted. And the exhaustion he'd been holding back slammed into him. He clenched his jaw and swallowed the lump in his throat. 'I just want this to all be over. I wish it had never happened.'

'I can't imagine what you're going through,' Nino said quietly.

Adrien looked down; he didn't say anything. Silence wove through the room, swirling around the posters of DJs and artists on the walls, wrapping around the stacks of records piled in the corner, skimming over the incomplete homework scattered over the desktop, before finally landing on the picture framed on Nino's shelf – of him and his family all laughing together.

'You know what hurts the most?' Adrien said. 'That my father was right.' A bitter smile rose on his face. 'Everything he did…it is what my mother wanted.'

Pain filled Nino's expression. He opened his mouth but then closed it again. And Adrien nearly dissolved there and then as Nino's gaze pierced his, those golden eyes holding his soul, refusing to let it break.

The back of Adrien's throat burned and tears welled in his eyes. Nino opened his mouth once more and Adrien knew that whatever he'd say, it would make everything just that little bit all right again.

But then Nino's phone rang. The moment shattered into pieces.

Adrien closed his eyes as Nino swiftly silenced his phone. Apathy smothered his emotions; hollowness spread from his stomach and filled him completely; and Adrien looked out the window, his gaze dull and lifeless, at the moonlight lighting up the Parisian rooftops. Meanwhile Nino replied to the anonymous intruder, brow slowly furrowing as his thumbs blurred on the keyboard.

'Hey,' he eventually said, still looking at his phone. 'Let's go get coffee.'

Adrien raised a tired eyebrow. 'It's late.'

Nino looked up and smiled. 'I know but…' he nimbly got off the bed. 'Just…come on.' He gestured with a flick of his head, warmth and trust in his expression.

Adrien's lip quirked in the barest of exasperated laughter. He exhaled, stood up, and dutifully followed Nino from the house.

The night was still cold. Adrien turned up the collar of his jacket and shoved his hands into his pockets, but, despite the temperature, he didn't shiver.

'Where are we going?' Adrien asked after they'd been walking for a few minutes.

'It's a cafe Alya and I found a while back. It's nothing fancy, but it does good coffee.' Nino shrugged. 'We sorta often end up going there when we're tired and don't know where else to go.'

Adrien nodded. They continued walking in silence.

The night's atmosphere was a warm one, even if the temperature wasn't. Yellow streetlight pooled onto the pavement, students laughed on street corners, and tourists smiled with each other as they took pictures in front of landmarks. Adrien breathed and let the beginnings of peace enter his heart when suddenly, Nino stopped walking.

Adrien looked at him.

'Hey, man,' Nino began slowly, his voice strangely hoarse. 'I'm so sorry.'

Adrien frowned. 'About what?'

Nino swallowed. 'Everything,' he said. 'Your dad. What he did…what he did to Nathalie and Marinette…' Adrien glanced down. 'It's all so fucking messed up.'

Adrien chuckled, dry and bitter. 'That's an understatement.' He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and scuffed the pavement with his shoe. Nino's golden eyes glistened behind his glasses.

Nino threw himself at his friend, making Adrien stumble back with surprise. 'Listen,' he said, hugging Adrien tight, 'I don't know what exactly's going on with your mum but…you'll always have me, okay? And Alya. And Chloé. And…' he hesitated, '…even if it doesn't seem like it, you have Marinette too, okay?' His voice softened. 'You do.'

Adrien bit his lip. He hugged Nino back. He clenched his jaw to keep his tears down. 'Thank you,' he whispered.

Nino pulled back and gripped Adrien's shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. Adrien did his best to return one.

Then Nino turned and led him into the cafe on the corner.

Like Nino had said, it was nothing fancy. It was fitted with simple wooden furniture, all slightly worn, and the smell of lightly burned coffee hung in the air. The odd late-night student tapped away at their laptop, the soft hush of tired voices drifted throughout. Comforting, in a slightly depressing sort of way; it was the perfect place to go when tired and unsure of where else to go.

Alya and Chloé chatted softly at a table in the corner, Adrien's heart warmed at the sight of them together.

He headed over.

Chloe's eyes widened when she laid eyes on him, cutting off mid-sentence. She jumped up and shot over, but she hesitated before him.

Adrien didn't move for a moment. Then, slowly, he lifted the corner of his mouth and tilted his arms open.

Chloe smiled. Tears welled in her eyes. And she accepted his invitation, hugging him tightly. Adrien breathed her in, his childhood friend, grateful for her company.

She stood aside, and then it was Alya holding him safe and secure in her embrace, somehow lifting the weight from his shoulders, bearing it for him instead.

'Thank you,' he said quietly, looking at them both. They both smiled back sadly.

With the gentle scrape of wood on wood, all four friends took a seat and fell into simple conversation about nothing in particular; hands wrapped around warm drinks, steam misting the windows, comfort and ease settling around them as the night continued on, taking them with it.

The only thing disturbing the peace was Alya's phone buzzing intermittently. Nino and Chloé ignored it, but Adrien couldn't help but watch her fingers tap away at her keyboard, wondering who needed Alya so badly at this hour. Alya drew her brows together with concern and bit her lip. She glanced up at Adrien and seemed startled to see him looking at her.

The chime of the door went, distracting them both. Alya snapped her head to the door and something in her expression made Adrien follow her gaze.

Someone walked through, a girl in a grey hoodie with the hood drawn up. Face shadowed and withdrawn he didn't recognise her at first, that was until he noticed the dark hair spilling from the hood.

Adrien shot to his feet, heart in his mouth. His chair slowly toppled backwards to land on the floor with a clatter.

Marinette snapped her head to his and stared, blue eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights.

Neither of them moved.

But then the sudden silence in the cafe brought by the crash of his chair faded. The gentle thrum of voices filled the air, the coffee machine whirred, and the placing of mugs thudded on tabletops.

Adrien walked over to Marinette, his footsteps falling soft on the wooden floor, and her eyes widened as he drew near; her expression softened.

He stopped right in front of her and swallowed. Ever so slowly he raised his hand, and when she didn't object, he lowered her hood to fully see her face.

Her eyes were red and raw, and the shadows were deep beneath her eyes, and her hair was knotted and tangled like it hadn't been brushed for days.

A lump rose in Adrien's throat. He ran his fingers gently through her hair to soothe the worst of it out, hyper-aware of her blue eyes locked onto his the whole time.

'Thank you,' Marinette whispered.

Adrien met her gaze, blue with trust and warmth. And full of forgiveness.

A sob escaped Adrien. He slammed his hand to his mouth.

And Marinette wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight as he let his emotions take over and he dissolved into tears. He gritted his teeth. He squeezed her against him. And he cried for this girl who held nothing but love for him, her own tears falling onto his shoulder.

Nino sniffed, and Alya wiped her eyes, and Chloé hid behind her powder mirror just a moment too long.

Marinette pulled back, taking Adrien's hand, and led him back to the table, taking a seat next to him.

Relief fell about the group, soft laughter rang out and gentle chatter arose. They were all right. They were together. They could all start to heal.

And as the night continued on, neither Adrien nor Marinette ever let go of the other's hand. In fact, they clung to each other so tight, their knuckles turned white; a constant acknowledgement of the fact that they were okay, they were safe.

A silent promise that they would stay together, now and always.