Author's note: Thanks once more for all of the reviews!

/

Nathalie consents to getting into the wheelchair purely because she knows that it will mean her getting to where she needs to be sooner than if she remains prideful and determined to do things by herself. At least, she's able to pick herself up and sit down by herself. Her legs wobble, she's weaker than she had thought she would be. She bears it however, there's enough on her mind to mean that her own physical condition seems to be rather unimportant to her right now.

All she wants, needs, is to see Adrien. For the past few hours, she's been left only with the knowledge of what had happened to him and that a team of doctors and surgeons had fought through the night to save his life… They lead her to a different part of the hospital. It's quieter here. No bad thing… Nathalie's not sure that she'd appreciate a lot of fuss. There are markedly more nurses and doctors however doing their rounds. This is quite a relatively small establishment. There aren't all that many people here.

In a way it comes as something of a relief. The slightly calmer atmosphere makes it easier to think. On the other hand… Thinking isn't necessarily something that Nathalie wants to do. She's already had ample opportunity to think. She's been essentially trapped here for hours, fully aware of what's happened. She's smart, seen a lot of the world and not an idiot. Nor is she the sort of person who tends to cling to hope pointlessly. No… As they enter into the little room, the woman knows full-well that she's going to be confronted with a terrible picture. She can brace herself all that she wants, the woman is aware that it will never be enough.

She hears the sound of the machines before anything else. As the door is opened, the woman is greeted by loud, monotonous beeps. She recognizes them instantly. Nathalie steels herself.

Adrien Agreste is barely visible for all of the machines around him. Some the woman is able to recognize as being monitors keeping track of his vitals, others evidently play a far more active role in keeping the young man alive. She couldn't say what most of them do. The pipe which enters through his throat, she can only assume is providing him with oxygen. Even now, she can hear the frantic gasps he'd been making as he had lay by the roadside, dying. At least she knows that his body is getting some of the air that it needs now, albeit artificially. She can't even begin to fathom what most of the others do. There are so many tubes and wires coming from and attached to his bare chest that it felt almost as if he was equal part man and machine. In some ways, she thought to herself, he very much is.

By some miracle, most of the teen's handsome features remain more or less unaltered, with the exception of an ugly cut under his eye which will no doubt heal up soon enough. In some ways, it makes things almost worse. She can look at his face and mistake him for merely sleeping. Forget about everything else which has happened and that if she were to look down she would see that the rest of his body was bandaged, bruised and plugged into all manner of machines in the hopes of both keeping him alive and being able to repair some of the damage that has been done.

Nathalie can only fix him painfully. It takes some time for all of this to register. There's a part of her which refuses to believe what she's seeing. It tries to convince her that this is all a dream, well, a nightmare actually. If it is, then all she needs to do is wake up and she'll find herself back in the Cabanon. Adrien will still be sleeping quietly in the guest bedroom. Macaroon will be by the side of his bed and Plagg curled up on the pillow just next to him. She'll go and check on them and then be able to breathe once more when she's confirmed that he's safe and sound. The pain that she feels right now however is enough to remind her that no matter how much she might wish for it not to be so, he is hurt.

The woman eventually musters the presence of mind to turn towards one of the doctors. She asks in something of a raspy voice:

"What's wrong with him?"

"Pericardial Tamponade, flail chest..."

Broken hip, fractured trachea… It's a long and torturous catalog. Nathalie stops listening after a while. She knows that it's a lot of complicated words to mean he's shattered his body, perhaps beyond repair. The ribs don't come as much of a surprise, she knows that they had been made more fragile following the incident at the Grand Palais which had fractured them once before. The throat was unfortunately predictable given how poorly he'd been breathing following the accident and the lengths that they've gone to in the hospital should have pointed her towards something more serious. She closes her eyes, wondering if there's any chance of helping him or if she should now consider their former lives to be nothing more than a fond memory.

There's a difference between not dying and being able to continue on living as you did before.

He must be in quite some pain. Her eyes travel towards the drips feeding various fluids into the young man. Some of them are painkillers. Perhaps others are sedatives. She'd been warned that he was going to be under for quite some time, unaware of what's going on around him. Right now, she has no doubt that's what's better for him. Let him sleep through the worst of it… Although Nathalie can't help but wonder just how long she's going to be out for.

"What now?"

"For the next few days, maybe even weeks, he needs some rest." The doctor speaks in a soft voice. "In many ways, he's quite lucky. He managed to dodge any serious brain damage or spinal injuries but he's still going to be off of his feet for a while."

So it isn't over yet… Nathalie can't help but wince internally.

"Lucky" isn't a word that she would have used to describe the current situation. Perhaps this doctor has seen far worse injuries, she's willing to bet that he has or maybe he's just not all that good at communicating… What he means is that whilst his body is damaged, it's not going to leave him completely crippled or at least that's what she assumes he's implying. At this point in the game, Nathalie fears that she is growing increasingly cynical and pessimistic, even where Adrien is concerned.

She's no medical expert but she knows that to put right what's wrong with him is going to require an extensive stay at a hospital and months, possibly even years of physiotherapy. All of that for a miscalculation. All of the best intentions of a young and noble man had been ruined by a simple bit of bad luck, a lack of attention and a tree. No… There were others to be blamed for what had happened. For the time being however, the woman only has eyes for Adrien. Despite what she knows, she still finds herself – perhaps somewhat selfishly – wanting him to open his eyes. Just for a second, just to greet her with some form of confirmation that he's still alive and that this artificial slumber won't be the end of him. She wants to reach out and touch him, brush some of that stray hair away from his face but she doesn't dare. He seems so fragile right now. It's as if a single gust of wind might be enough to cause him to turn him to dust.

"You can take his hand if you want." One of the nurses offers quietly, somehow seemingly realizing what the woman was thinking.

It occurs to Nathalie that they must have seen this a thousand times before. It must be part of something of a macabre routine for them.

Slowly and tentatively, she reaches out. Its her fingers which brush gently against the back of his hand which doesn't have a drip pouring fluids into it. His skin feels cool and she gets no response. In truth, she hadn't been expecting one. Seeing no indications that her action has caused him any pain, the woman goes one step further and treating it as if it might very well be made of glass, she takes it. Nathalie doesn't dare apply much pressure. Granted, none of his bones are broken but all the same, seeing him in such a weak and vulnerable state has left her shaken. She doesn't want to take any chances with the young man. She hopes that he knows that she's here, by his side. That he's going to be okay and that she'll be here for him when he wakes up.

However long it takes…

She spends a while there. The doctors leave. They have other places to be, numerous other patients who require tending to. Right now, with Adrien, it's a waiting game. She's warned that it's more likely to be a matter of days than it is hours and therefore not to be concerned if they find that he isn't showing any immediate signs of waking up or being aware of their presence. There are nurses nearby if required and they will be giving him regular checkups at any rate. In short, they will have to be patient. It's not a process which can or should be rushed. He'll open his eyes when he's ready.

That leaves Nathalie with Adrien, keeping silent vigil. The world could have been ending outside and still, she feels as if she wouldn't have moved from that spot. There's the constant sound of the machines, especially the ventilator and heart monitor which are a painful reminder of what's happened. Under other circumstances, the woman reasons that she would likely have found them to be unbearable. Right now however she takes them as proof that the young man is still alive. His heart is still beating and oxygen is entering his body… He's still with her.

Her mind wanders… She thinks back to when she'd been sitting by the side of the road, wanting nothing more than to take him in her arms in order to comfort him but unable to do even that for fear of worsening his state and inadvertently injuring him further. In its own way, that had been torturous. Sitting there, she hadn't known that anyone had called for an ambulance. In fact, she'd been rather certain that they hadn't. As such, she'd assumed that they would be left alone. On such a small rural road, it could easily have been a few hours until someone passed them and Adrien was so terribly hurt. In short, she had believed that he was going to die and that she was going to struggle to do so little as even comforting him.

All of this because of one woman. Perhaps her husband was to blame, Nathalie couldn't have said… As she sat there however with a young man who had spent the past few years paying one way or another for the sins of his parents, there was a growing sense of injustice and anger in the pit of her stomach.

"Nathalie..." It's her grandmother who speaks to her. "They gave this back."

She turns towards her grandparent as the woman holds something out to her. It takes her only a few seconds to recognize the old watch. It's broken now. As broken as the young man who had last worn it. Carefully, she takes the object in her hands. There's a large crack running along the glass which has splintered in pieces and is now more of a health hazard than anything else. She lets out a heavy sigh. It's of no use now, too damaged to possibly still serve its purpose. Still, she finds herself bringing it to her ear. No! It's still ticking…

The woman lets out a sigh. Slowly, her hand slips away from Adrien. Mindlessly, she finds herself putting the watch on. She's never worn it before. It neither suits her nor does it fit. Still, in some strange way, it gives her just a little bit of comfort; a connection to the men who had worn it previously. It reminds her of what needs to be done.

She gets to her feet despite a few protests. Her ankle is still sore but she can work. She excuses herself, claiming that she needs some time. They don't stop her as she had feared they might. Instead, she's allowed to go. Evidently, they must assume that she's going to go and cry somewhere in quiet. She wouldn't do that, although it is quite tempting. In truth, abandoning Adrien, even for what she hopes will be only a few minutes, is something which pains her deeply. It has to be done however.

It proves to be rather easy for the woman to make her way back to her room. She regrets leaving the small box there but there was no way for her to bring it with her without arousing suspicion and she most definitely dared not open it whilst others were around. She can only hope that nobody has touched it since. The woman tiptoes into her room. Thankfully, her belongings which Jacques had brought her are still in place. She lets out an uneasy sigh as she approaches the table next to her bed. Her body is sluggish and the aches and pains she's subject to right now are too many to count. Nathalie soldiers on though.

She picks up the little box and looks around. There are no cameras in here. She's alone… Cautiously, the woman opens the lid.

There's a bright flash of light which causes her to look away momentarily. A second later and she has some company. The strange creature before her looks like a miniature horse, hardly surprising given that she's the kwami of the horse miraculous. The jewel had been give Adrien for use in emergencies only. Master Fu wouldn't appreciate her – a former supervillain – having her hands on it but right now, they don't have much of a choice. She wished that she could have given the young man the glasses… She would have traded places with him in a heartbeat. She might yet depending on how things go.

"What's going on Miss?" The creature, evidently a bit confused asks her after a few moments.

"Your name's Kaalki, isn't it?" She gets a nod in response. "I need your help. Something… Something terrible's happened. You can teleport, right?"

"All you need to say is "Kaalki, full gallop!"." The Kwami explained to her before adding somewhat more hesitantly. "But… Where are we going?"

"Paris… This has gone on for too long..."