When Chat woke up, he was… strangely comfortable.

It took awhile to place at first. Yes, his scales were a little bit dry and that wasn't the most pleasant, but otherwise, he was warm. He was warm, and the ground under him was soft, and for once he wasn't waking up in cold water and screaming from the horrifying pictures in his mind. Soon though, it sunk in that this was completely different from normal, and he startled fully awake, eyes flying open.

The open sky above was starting to lighten, and for a moment he was completely lost about how he'd ended up out of the water. But looking around, and finding the remains of the fire beside him and the already familiar form of Ladybug curled up on the other side, it all made sense again, especially when his eyes trailed along her and coming to rest on where her fingers were still entwined with his. Instantly his heart swelled, at the same time that his face flushed red.

She'd offered her friendship to him in exchange for saving her life, and he hadn't expected anything like that at all. Maybe he was jaded, no, he definitely was, after everything. But he'd expected her to turn on him, to stab him in the back, maybe literally, once she found out what he was. For so long, humans had only wanted to take, and once they forgot about that, all they did was fear him and he knew all too well how fear made humans want to destroy.

But not her, she was just… she was different. She's not afraid of him in the least, it seems, and she doesn't appear to have dark intentions whatsoever. He's still having trouble wrapping his head around the entire idea, his subconscious still expecting to be turned on at any moment, but he can't help the warm, fond feeling of trust blooming in his heart.

Is it really only trust, though? She does look so achingly familiar. Her pale skin, and the freckles he's only just noticed dotted across her nose, and that specific shade of midnight that her hair proudly presents. The hand in his is small and delicate, and if he trudges into his memory, he's sworn he's held it before.

The dark mermaid knows it's impossible. But the thought pervades his head, twisting his emotions, and he can't help leaning down and pressing his forehead against hers. She's different, she's not the same, and yet she's so uncannily exactly the same. It's twisting his heart into knots with every minute that passes, making his memories blur with the present and he's starting to question what's real at all. He feels a tug toward her, wanting to touch her even with the primal fear that strikes through him at the slightest contact, and that urge gives him such incredible guilt.

He pretends, for a moment, that he doesn't know why it makes him feel guilty, but he does. She didn't sign up for any of this, she doesn't owe him anything, and even if they weren't so completely different, he didn't think she'd be interested in him anyway.

But also… why was he thinking like that? He shouldn't want her to be interested, he shouldn't, and yet he kind of does, and he feels like he's betraying her because of it.

She's the same. And yet, she is not.

She is not what was his.

Chat pulls away, he can't keep warring with himself like this. He gently pries his hand from her grip, and she grumbles in her sleep, pulling her hand to her chest and rolling over. It makes his heart hurt, because he knows that exact movement, he's seen it a thousand times, it's so completely familiar and he has to tell himself again that it is not the same.

He looks pointedly at her legs, committing their presence to memory, as if to use as proof in an argument against someone else. But there is no one but himself, and the familiarity refuses to leave even when faced with indisputable proof.

With a sigh, he sits up and turns toward the water. He doesn't know where he plans to go, and he knows the water won't take away the thoughts or the memories or the pain, but he knows that short term goals are the best method of dealing with the despair and his tail still needs to be hydrated, so that's what he's going to do.

And just maybe, he hopes, going for a swim will at least clear his mind enough to decide what he's going to do from here. He can't go back to his ravine, he can't go back to the way he was living, not after seeing the surface again. Something is going to have to change, in fact it already has, and he doesn't know whether that's a good thing or not.

The plunge into the chilly water is more refreshing than he expects, drawing a contented sigh out of him. For just a moment, the cascading and endless internal struggle ceases, replaced only by the cool and comfort of the ocean. But all too soon the thoughts trickle back in again, and he lets himself sink toward the depths unhindered as one, clear, striking realization hits him.

It's not that she is or isn't, it's not how similar she is, it's not how impossible the idea is. It's that he's only seeing what he wants her to be. Ladybug is her own person, in her own time. She has her good and bad qualities, she has her own history, she looks the way she does and she is the race she is. She is the same and different and he's being blind to the differences because all he wants to see is the similarities. He's not seeing her for who she really is, and he knows nothing could be more unfair than to expect her to be someone she isn't.

He wants her to be her.

But she is not, and she never will be, no matter how much he wishes for it.

It's been so long. So many empty years passing in a fog, until everything blurred together and he thought he was over it. But Chat had only fooled himself into thinking that, and already, he is learning that a broken heart will never heal.

When Chat resurfaced again, he expected to see Ladybug alone on the beach, by their fire. Maybe still asleep, curled up in the sand, maybe awake and absently poking at the ashes. But that was not the scene he was witness to when he broke from the water. When his eyes did focus, he plunged back down out of sight, and all of his previous angst vanished in exchange for an angry burning feeling in his chest, alongside cold worry.

Ladybug was gone.

And the beach was swarming with legion soldiers.

His slit pupils followed each man's movement like a predator watching its prey, his fins pinning to his head and a silent hiss escaping his mouth. He shouldn't have left. He thought this place was safe, deserted and unwanted by the kingdoms around it, but that idea had been too naive. Why they would come here at all, he still didn't know, but right now that didn't matter. A voice in the back of his head was screaming for him to find her, find where she was, make sure she was safe. A more logical voice told him to leave now, to escape while he still could, cut his newly formed ties before they became losses.

If he had any sense of self preservation left, he would. It was the smarter choice, he knew. Ladybug was proof that humans had forgotten his race existed at all, if he left now and returned to the bottom of the ocean, to his cold little area he'd scared everyone away from, he'd be safe. He'd live to see another day, the targets on his back long faded away with time.

Chat drifted below the water, and looked back toward the direction of his ravine. His home, his safe place.

Was it really that, though? It's been decades. He'd grown so accustomed to the dull pain, the loneliness and endless days that all lead to nothing, he'd forgotten what anything different was like. He'd long forgotten the warmth of company, talking and joking with a friend, of not knowing what each day would bring but knowing he wouldn't face it alone, leaving the uncertainty as an adventure to be conquered.

Hiding away in his ravine wasn't really living. It wasn't a life, it was a sad excuse of an existence of the shell he was left behind as. It hurt to be the one left behind, to be the one still here, feeling both abandoned and guilty for surviving. But maybe, just maybe, he needed to make something of his existence again, since he was the one who still could.

Mind made up, and a new feeling of resolute determination coursing through him, Chat rose back up above the surface. He stayed low enough to stay hidden, and began to slowly creep along the rock until he was in the shade as well, but kept his head above water and listened closely. All of the soldiers on the beach were doing their own thing, investigating different areas, and some were chatting amongst themselves about things the mermaid did not care for. But a few minutes of patient listening did finally reward him with what he needed.

"That girl can't actually be her, can it? I mean, the Captain sent her overboard himself. We watched, she never came back up again, she's gotta be dead." Bingo. Chat's eyes narrowed, zeroing in on which conversation it was.

"I dunno man, who knows. Maybe he's just paranoid, you know the guy, he'd think the wind was after him if it blew too hard."

"Yeah, but it's pretty fair to be paranoid about her. She always pops up like a daisy exactly at the worst time, and every time we think she's dead, there she is again. It's like she's a curse."

Well, that was an interesting thing to say. Ladybug hadn't said much about, well, anything from before they'd met, and Chat was starting to wonder the details. Yes, this Hawkmoth-wannabe had gone too far in what he did to her, but it was starting to sound like there may be a reason. Weren't these guys supposed to be the law? From how it sounded, it was like Ladybug was either running from them all the time, or… purposefully making their lives difficult.

"Well, I guess we'll find out if it's her or not soon. The ship Captain should recognize if it's really her better than we would."

Were they talking about Hawkmoth himself? Oh no. Chat spun, his gaze landing on every bit of water within sight, but he didn't see a ship on this side of the island. However, if these guys were still here, then so was their ship. And if the Captain had Ladybug, then she had to be on that ship.

He plunged back under the water. No one had seen him, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone, nothing more than a faint shadow moving fast underneath the gentle waves. When he made it to the other beach, he could see the underside of a large legion ship under the surface, and made his way right to it. It made his spines stand on end to be near one of these again, but he shoved the feeling down, and plastered himself right against the wood before surfacing again. At this angle, and away from the beach, no one would be able to spot him.

Above, there were voices, female ones this time. He listened in closely, wishing he had claws to quietly climb up the side to see.

"Tsk, tsk. And here even I thought you were gone this time, Ladybug." Chat didn't know the voice, but it couldn't be another of the lowly soldiers. It was a woman, and she sounded cold, like the kind of person that would call you useless for getting stabbed. He didn't like the sound of her, but part of him was kind of glad at least Hawkmoth wasn't here. "You and your damned lucky streak, he's not going to be happy when we bring you back again."

"Don't go fishing for what you don't want, then." That was Ladybug, her voice defiant and sarcastic.

The woman he didn't know hissed. "You have a bounty on your head and you know it. We're not going to just let you slip away under the rug and escape your just punishment."

"Oooh, you mean murder? Cause that's totally a just punishment."

"It is for you!"

"Picking and choosing based on your own opinions, dang. Can I join? I wanna sentence people to death when I don't like them, too." Okay, maybe Ladybug needed to chill on the taunting before she made it worse.

"Sorry, we don't hire pirate scum."

Chat froze. He didn't hear Ladybug's reply, drowned out by the screeching halt of his own thoughts. She was a pirate?

He didn't want to believe it. Pirates were cruel and ruthless, pirates hunted more of his kind than anyone else, pirates brought nothing but death for their own greed. Ladybug was kind and understanding, friendly and patient, Ladybug drew him in with her sparkling blue gaze and what felt like her very soul trying to connect with his. She felt so much like his lost link, the light that had died from his life.

Or was that just what he wanted to see?

He didn't know Ladybug. And she did refuse to tell him about her life, or at least why she got thrown in the ocean. She twisted the story to make it sound like only Hawkmoth was the one in the wrong, when for all he knew, she could have done horrible things to deserve what had happened.

Chat shook his head. No, no one deserved to drown without a chance, and she hadn't given him a concrete, personal reason to distrust her yet. Pirates were nothing but trouble, but she'd had plenty of chances to turn on him, and had taken none of them. If she wanted to kill him for profit, like all the others, she'd have done it already. Instead she'd offered her friendship and kind words, and that was the best he'd ever gotten from a human. Whether he was only seeing what he wanted to or not, she wasn't a threat to him, at least it felt like it.

But was she really someone he wanted to get involved with? Whether she was a threat or not, these people would be, the instant they learn of his existence.

"You can't weasel your way out this time, Ladybug. We're going back to the capital and this time, Captain Hawkmoth will make sure you're in so many pieces even your luck can't pull you back together again." The scary woman's voice cut right through his thoughts again, and made the choice for him.

Maybe he was only seeing what he wanted to see. Maybe she wasn't worth getting involved with. But returning to his sad, aimless life wasn't worth letting her die for, and no one deserved whatever they planned to do to her this time. Without an ounce of hesitation, Chat plunged deep below the water, and launched himself hard off of the rock floor at the bottom. The force of his push was enough to send him straight up, through the water and breaking the surface until he was suspended in nothing but air.

He could feel the instant chill, both from the cold air touching his wet skin, and from the several wide-eyed stares that locked onto him. It was as if time froze, or slowed down to nothing for just a moment, as he stared back. Ladybug was in a heap on the deck, her hands bound behind her back, and an intimidating woman with black and red hair stood over her, a cutlass in hand. The rest of the crew faded into blurs in Chat's mind, his slitted pupils zeroing in on the weapon glinting in the light, held so close and dangerously near Ladybug's face that it sent his blood boiling.

Wooden railing splintered to pieces under his grip, announcing his vengeful presence along with the snarls escaping him. Right in front of him, and yet too far away for comfort, that horrible man was cackling maniacally, the knife in his hand shining in the sun where he held it against her. She was trembling, trying not to move, scared noises escaping her throat. Held up by only her hair, she held onto his wrist, trying to take her own weight off of it.

"Both of you can't escape me this time." The man chuckled, and got nothing more than an enraged growl in response. "You will give me what I want."

"I can't!" She cried, tears streaming down her face. "No one can do it, not even us!"

"LIAR!" He screamed, shaking her in his grip and making her cry out. The rail splintered more, falling to pieces under the only witness as he saw nothing but red, but unable to find a way out. "You will do as I say!"

Nothing more could be done, as the red he was seeing became real. The shining metal disappeared into her middle, tearing through her, splattering red in gruesome pools on the deck, her screams ripping through the air. Frozen, cautionary anger turned to all-out fury, launching the black form of pure vengeance at the man at the same time she was thrown overboard in a pitiful heap.

Suddenly, her red outfit was blood, and the glistening cutlass was stained. He landed on the deck with a heavy thud, his hands flat on the wood, glaring up with thread-thin pupils. Blood was rushing in his ears, twisted rage burning under his skin. The spines on his back stood on end, his fangs bared to the world in a furious snarl. The wooden boards splintered under him as he dug his fingers into them, and the woman reacted, swinging the cutlass to point at his face.

Shining metal.

Red.

Red.

Blood.

Danger

Everything was red. She was here, she was hurt, they had her, they hurt her this was their fault they were evil they wanted to use her they wanted to kill her they wanted to take her away again he would be alone again she would die again she would leave him again they did this they took her away they can't have her