The southern air is dry and warm, even late at night it is more than possible to walk along in a tee-shirt and be comfortable.
Warm laughter echoes out coming from a young man as they walk down a dirt path. Enough alcohol had been consumed to make Nathalie reluctant to drive. It isn't that she doubts her ability to do so but one breathalyzer test (although in the middle of nowhere that seems unlikely) would be enough to see her lose her license. She doesn't want that so contents herself with the walk back. There's a full moon or near enough so they have enough light to follow the dirt track back to the little Cabanon on the hill.
Adrien had enjoyed himself. Nathalie knows this as he has told her as much three times in the past five minutes. She smiles, sometimes tells him to calm down a little bit. He does but then gets worked up once more a short while later. She shakes her head, aware of just what affliction he's currently suffering from but unwilling to spell it out to him for the fourth time. He's not quite annoying enough to warrant her losing her temper and the alcohol in her system no doubt makes her somewhat more tolerant herself.
He is however very talkative indeed. It's the fifth time that Adrien has recounted the same story about a game of pétanque, albeit a somewhat different variant of it, when Nathalie finally breaks and informs him:
"You're drunk."
"I'm not drunk..." He answers somewhat defensively. "Just happy."
"Happy having had a few glasses of wine." Nathalie reminds the young man.
"-and a beer." Jacques is quick to chip in.
Adrien goes silent, the heat rising to his cheeks. Nathalie hadn't kept track of exactly how much he had had. Perhaps that had been a mistake. She doesn't think it's necessarily all that much, he's not that drunk. Merry or rather tipsy might be a better way of putting it. Whatever the case, the few classes he's had have had a certain effect on him, no doubt because he's not used to consuming alcohol in the first place. Away from the crowds back at the village fete, the effect is a little more noticeable.
As he skips ahead of them a bit, Nathalie can't help but turn to her companion and tell him somewhat playfully:
"I blame you for this..."
"Look at it this way: he'll wake up tomorrow with a headache, unable to even crawl out of bed and he'll never touch another drop of the stuff again."
"Yes…" Nathalie mutters decidedly dubiously. "That's exactly how young people's minds work."
"Yours did, I'm sure."
She offers the man a coy smile, one which is open to interpretation. She likes to leave some parts of her life to the imagination. It's entertaining to watch as Adrien and now Jacques try to separate fact from fiction and decide upon what sort of individual she used to be. Maybe one day she'll dig out some old photos and show them… For the time being, let them wonder.
They manage to get back to Nathalie's old home eventually. Her grandmother is already in bed so some effort is made to be a little bit quieter to avoid disturbing the elderly lady. She won't appreciate being woken up by any of them. Unfortunately, Adrien seems to be inclined to be a bit louder than usual, having seemingly lost all control or at least awareness of how loudly he's speaking. With a little bit of coaxing, they manage to get him back to his room. Plagg seems decidedly unimpressed with his partner, manifesting himself only once he's sure that Jacques is out of earshot.
"Make sure he doesn't throw himself out of a window..." Nathalie pleads quietly with the kwami.
"You humans are such silly creatures."
Nathalie struggles to disagree. The kwami floats off, promising to keep an eye on his partner. An unnecessary precaution. When she goes to check on him, just to ensure that he made it into his bed, the woman finds that he's out like a light, lying face down on his bed. Macaroon is next to him and Plagg just on the pillow. Is he comfortable like that? She can only assume that he is as it's a position that he seems to quite enjoy sleeping in. The woman smiles fondly, contemplating him for a few moments before whispering a quiet "bonne nuit". He stirs momentarily, perhaps not entirely out for the count, muttering something in return before drifting off once more.
The woman is in her bed a few moments later, dreaming her own dreams.
How far south of Paris are they here? 400 miles? 500?
Adrien doesn't know exactly one thing he's certain of is that it feels like a completely different planet. It's like they're so far away from everything here that his other life never even existed. The only element allowed to penetrate this sanctuary is Marinette. Even his other friends don't know where he is. He regrets that but apparently going on vacation with his father's former assistant to her grandmother's in the south of France is something of an unusual practice and therefore one best kept on a strictly need-to-know basis. The others wouldn't understand or if they did, it would lead to some questions with rather awkward answers being asked.
Right now it scarcely matters. He's safe. Everything else is a world away. He likes the smell of dirt which fills the air. The fact that this old house is relatively cramped and that it's impossible to lose one another within it. It's restful not to hear cars passing but instead the song of the crickets. The mosquitoes are a bit of a pain and he can't claim that the small of the nearby herd of goats is necessarily an enjoyable one. At this point however, he's so far away from the world that he once knew that he doesn't care. He can rest easily…
That night. He doesn't dream. Despite his claims, his head is a little bit cloudy. His senses aren't all that far gone. The drink allows him to loosen up and let out some of the pent up excitement and relief which he's been containing within himself.
"Adrien. Adrien!" A voice pesters him quietly.
"Five more minutes Ma-"
A hand plasters itself over his mouth. It's enough to cause him to wake up with a fright. His vision is faint and blurry. The light hasn't been turned on which only serves to confuse him further. His heart is racing, panic taking over for a few moments. Eventually, he's able to make out a familiar figure. As he recognizes her, he finds himself to be calming down somewhat. Although his confusion remains. Nathalie places a finger over her lips, begging him to be quiet. It's only then that he realizes that Macaroon is growling loudly.
Suddenly, he's scared.
"There are two cars outside." The woman informs him in a hushed whisper. "Take your shoes and go hide under the chicken coop. Don't come out, no matter what."
"Wh-" He begins, wondering where to start.
"No time. Don't argue. Just go."
Too confused to protest, he stands up, staggering over to the door. Nathalie reaches out, takes his arm instead and pushes him towards the window. On the ground floor, it isn't all that difficult for him to get outside. She hands him his shoes and then, in a flash, the woman is gone, disappearing back into the house. His head feels sluggish, like something isn't quite right. So it's Plagg who manages to drag him over towards the chicken coop.
The old wooden shack sits a little bit above the dirt, propped up on bricks. It's possible for the Adrien to slip himself underneath the structure. The smell is decidedly unpleasant. The stench causes him to curl his nose up. Despite the brightness of the moon, he struggles to make anything else out. His heart thunders in his chest as he waits. Whilst he struggles to pull himself together, his ears are able to pick up some voices. He can't see who they belong to but there are some lights on the other side of the house, evidently from a car, likely more than one. After a few moments, a figure whom he initially thinks belonged to Gorilla came round the side. The teen shrinks away, sheltering himself to the best of his ability.
The stranger walks slowly, peering in the windows shining in a flash light as he does so. He goes around to the back of the house but doesn't move from there. Adrien might have asked some more questions if it weren't for the sudden eruption of shouting. Concerned, he looks back around. He can recognize Jacques and Nathalie's grandmother. They sound a mixture of angry and frightened. The teen shifts as carefully and as quietly as possible in an attempt to get a better view.
He finds one eventually. The family has been lead out to the front of the house by about four men whom he had never before seen in his life. From inside, the dogs can be heard still barking. They must have been locked up somehow. They are a bunch of brutes, he could see that much by how they handled Nathalie and Jacques. Anger courses through him as he watches the former being shoved roughly to her knees by one of the invaders. There didn't seem to be much of a need to do so, she's being surprisingly compliant, unlike her companion who seems far more resolute when it comes to fighting. A few words from the woman next to him, which Adrien can't make out, are enough to silence or at least calm him.
It's apparent that the men are looking for something or perhaps more likely Adrien realizes, someone. It's him that they want. Naturally, that's why Nathalie shepherded him out here, to safety…
He can't leave her there!
"Plagg, claws-"
"Wait!" The kwami stops him. "You transform here, they'll know it was you!"
"With a mask?"
"Even for a dumb human, it won't be hard to put together. Why would Cat Noir be out here in the middle of nowhere?!"
"But… Man..."
The strangers are shouting at the group but Nathalie in particular. Adrien realizes quickly that they're demanding to know where he is. Still, the woman remains made of stone. She says nothing, giving them a cold, defiant look. It's quite apparent that they know he's here and given whom their addressing they seem to also be aware of who is most likely to know where he is. One of them is on a phone, speaking with… Someone.
They are losing patience, that much is clear. At this point, the intruders are speaking so loudly that even from where he is hidden, he can hear them. He wonders briefly why Nathalie isn't fighting back. He knows that she packs a deceptively powerful punch and has some serious moves. His best guess is that her grandmother and Jacques don't and that she's unwilling to put them in any danger. That and the invaders are exceptionally huge. Evidently the risk doesn't seem worth it. Tempers are beginning to flare however as the woman repeatedly refuses to make any attempt to call for him. Adrien closes his eyes, doing his best to block out what's going on.
When the teen hears her voice, he can't help but look back.
"He isn't a dog." Nathalie informs her captors.
"No, but he listens to you. Call him!"
"No."
The man who seems to be in charge lets out a heavy and regretful sigh. He lowers her head, shaking it slowly. Nathalie's resolve however remains firm. She sits a little bit taller and more dignified. It might be some ungodly time in the morning and the odds seem to be anything but favorable, there's no fear behind her eyes. She remains unwavering. If anything there's something about her attitude which seems to be something of a challenge, informing those who stand before her that she has no intention of cooperating in the slightest and that they're going to have to do their worst.
In those few moments, his admiration for her is beyond words.
"Just remember that we tried to keep this polite."
The man standing to Nathalie's right gives his boss a glance. The signal is a very slight nod, permission to go ahead. For whatever reason, Adrien finds himself suddenly fearful. He looks away.
It means that he doesn't see what happens next. He hears it though. Well… Not the action in itself but certainly its consequences. There's an awful lot of shouting. It's more like panicked and distressed screams from the woman's grandmother. Jacques however is enraged. Shouting and roaring, cursing them. It sounded like something of a scuffle had broken out. It only lasted a few seconds before once more, some form of calm had returned. In many ways, that proved to be worse. It was the uncertainty of not knowing exactly what had occurred that caused him to look back.
Nathalie is lying on her side. She doesn't appear to be moving all that much. Is she dead? The young man can't quite help but peer towards her desperate to see even the slightest sign of life. The gloom of the night makes the headlights from the cars seem dazzling. He can only just see her silhouette. So being able to tell if she's bleeding or even still breathing is impossible. He holds his breath, biting at his lower lip. Even Plagg seems a little shocked, starring at the scene in silent horror. One of the men stands over her, fists clenched. The fact that he's still yelling, demanding to know just where Adrien Agreste is is, in an odd way, somewhat comforting. At least he knows that she's still alive. You don't yell at a dead woman. That brief amount of relief is quickly forgotten about when the man reaches down and grabs her around the throat. The woman makes it onto her knees, clawing at his hand but unable to pry it away.
Adrien didn't look away for the second blow.
Something snaps within him. He doesn't question it. Logic is gone. Nathalie's pleas for him to remain silent are forgotten. Does Plagg tell him to stay back? He can't say. It's all just white noise at this point. Suffering from tunnel vision and if he's honest an urge to inflict pain, Adrien charges out from where he'd been sheltering. He doesn't care that he catches his back on the side of the coop as he goes. All he has eyes for is the man before him. Even his accomplishes are forgotten about. He just wants to hurt this one man for no other reason than because he just did the unthinkable and struck Nathalie.
He sees one of the men running towards him. For a moment, he assumes that he's about to be tackled. A second later, there's a sharp pain in his left shoulder. Before he could question it or the wires that he's suddenly aware of, it's like he's hit by a truck. He lets out a brief but shrill shout as all of his muscles tense up at once sending him crashing to the ground. He collides with something.
Dazed, the young man can't think to react. He simply lies there, breathing deeply as he struggles to regain a sense of where he is and what just happened. He was vaguely aware of someone grabbing a hold of his wrists, slapping some steel restraints on. Still, he can't manage to pull himself together to do anything about it. He groans in pain. The time it takes for him to realize that he needs to stand up or at least do something, he finds himself being dragged somewhat, bundled into a car. He's beginning to pull himself together when he feels someone tug at his hair. They grab at his arm, pulling it over and turning it round. There's a sharp prick in his arm.
He panics as the door is shut. His head in spinning.
The last thing he hears is shouting two voices shouting out for him. Then he gives in to the darkness.