He sat at his desk picking at a corner of the white envelope with a finger having an internal debate about whether or not he should open it.
There was a stack of them buried inside his desk, all opened and unanswered. He'd kid them inside his desk to try to forget their existence but the phrase "out of sight out of mind" didn't apply to the letters. The most recent letter-besides the one that was in front of him- had a date from seven months ago.
He wished he didn't remember that. He hadn't even bothered to open that one.
He shouldn't even bother to open this one.
The letter was written on a normal piece of lined notebook paper.
It wasn't the multiple paged rant he'd been expecting, not the normal letter that would start with some variation of "We're sorry" and usually ended in an attempt to guilt-trip him. He wasn't going to fall for it.
Even though he was resolved not to open it that resolve was crumpling faster than he could rebuild it.
There was the sound of tearing paper and then the letter was open on the desk.
A single word in his mother's handwriting: Please.
A single word that had him turning away the letter in shame and staring out the window as his hands clenched into fists.
He hated himself.
He hated her.
He hated this.
He hated himself, hated that he wanted to go back despite the fact that would be one of the worst decisions he could possibly make.
He hated her for asking him to come back even though she knew he didn't want to.
He hated that this was the letter that was going to be the one to make him go back. Almost two years worth of letters and a single word was going to make him come crawling back? He was going to let this single word guilt-trip work?
Why this time when she had said the word please so many times before?
Why at all? He'd thought they'd finally give up, he thought he finally didn't care. So why was this time going to be different?
He risked another look at the letter then turned back to the window just as quickly.
He didn't want to go back.
It was honestly better if he didn't go back.
He felt the sudden urge to run, to run away from this letter and his anger and his guilt and deny the fact that he was even considering going back.
Because for the first time in almost two years he was actually considering going back.
Not for him.
Not for his mother.
Only one thing could make him go back there.
That was why he hated himself.
Why he opened every single letter when he didn't really want to read them.
He stared out the window lost in thought.
The bell chimed as Tikki pushed the door open.
Instantly greeted by the almost overwhelming smell of hairspray and shampoo.
Juleka Couffaine came towards Tikki. Her black combat boots announcing each of the dark-haired girl's steps as she tucked her dark purple hair strand behind her ear and motioned for Tikki to follow her.
"When you called on the phone you said you just wanted a redye, same color?"
Tikki nodded in confirmation. Taking in her surroundings.
The salon seemed more crowded than usual. "I can come back later today if you want, you seem pretty busy."
Juleka shook her head. "I've got people working on everybody else, the beauty of being the boss is that you can hire people to do the majority of work for you. I'm usually in my office doing all the boring paperwork and stuff, you're a friend. I make exceptions for friends."
"Well, if you're sure."
"As long as you've got two hours to kill."
"It's my day off." Tikki assured.
Two hours later had her walking down the street, her black ankle boots clicking on the sidewalk.
Shoving her hands into her pockets when a small chilly breeze picked up; she really, really had to get a car, soon. She was saving up for one but it was a slower process than she had expected.
Public buses and walking would have to do for a little while longer, she honestly didn't mind walking. What she minded was the cold.
When temperatures dropped to anything below sixty she felt like curling up in a fuzzy blanket and hibernating until spring- but that was obviously impossible.
Her phone rang, and she took one hand out of her pocket and unzipped her purse; answering her phone without really looking at the caller ID.
"Hello?"
"Hey Tikki is Plagg with you?"
Adrien sounded uncharacteristically concerned and it instantly put her on edge.
"No, not since we went ice skating, why?"
Silence from the other end of the phone.
Warning bells went off in her head as she instantly started jumping to conclusions. That unexplainable compulsion to help Plagg rose up in her mind, some sort of instinct that said something was wrong.
"Tell me what's going on." She demanded, words clipped as she stopped in her path, leaning against a light post and resolving to not move from that spot until she got an explanation otherwise she'd run all the way to Adrien's apartment and start demanding answers from him in person.
She couldn't do that, she couldn't overact. She pushed her growing panic aside and focused her attention back to the conversation as Adrien finally broke his silence.
"He got a letter in the mail on Saturday, from his parents... I think because he wouldn't stop staring at the thing. He just took it and went into his room. Locked the door so I left him be-"
"So? He needs space just leave him be. I'd give it another day."
"He locked himself in his room on Saturday Tikki; It's Tuesday. I haven't seen him since. I thought he was just being stubborn so I went to go and tell him to snap out of it, I tried opening the door but it was still locked, I tried talking to him through the door but he wouldn't answer me."
Dread started to worm it's way into Tikki's gut.
"Your point?"
"My point: Is that I picked the lock on the door. He wasn't in the room and his window was open. He's gone AWOL and I've run out of places that he'd normal run off to. So I started calling people but no one's seen him. He's not answering any of mine of Nino's messages. We figured you're the only person he'll actually respond to at this point,"
Tikki had started to move, down the street. Her pace halfway between a walk and a run. She wasn't going to say anything to Adrien but his panic was contagious.
Almost Four days? Where the hell did someone disappear to where they couldn't be found for that length of time?
"If you can't get a hold of him then call back and me and Marinette will go down to the police station to file a missing person report-"
Tikki hung up.
She couldn't take it anymore, listening to Adrien's panicked ramblings wasn't going to help her. She couldn't let herself start panicking too.
She needed to think.
She called Adrien back after she took a minute to formulate a plan.
"Are you still at your apartment?"
"Yeah, why?"
"I'll be there in ten minutes. I have to pick something up from my apartment... I'll explain when I get to your place."
She hung up for a second time.
"... You want me to leave?"
"Yes, that is what I said."
Adrien glanced at the door then back at Tikki who sighed.
"Look, if he's not answering anyone's calls then that obviously means he doesn't want to talk to anybody. So if he doesn't want to talk to anyone then what makes you think he wants to see anybody? He's clearly avoiding the apartment for a reason."
"And you think me leaving will make him come back?"
"It's worth a shot. Give me an hour and then I'll call you and tell you if it worked or not. And if not then we go to the police."
Adrien considered for a moment.
"I have a plan," Tikki assured him. Tapping her sketchbook.
"Okay... Deal."
As soon as Adrien shut the door Tikki pulled out her phone and pleaded with all her luck that Plagg's phone wasn't dead.
Meet me at your apartment ASAP!
.. please.
She turned her phone off doubting that she'd get a reply via text message. He'd either show up or ignore her like he was doing with everybody else.
She sat down in the black leather armchair with her sketchbook and colored pencils.
Now... now all she had to do was wait.
The ticking of the kitchen clock was going to drive her insane but she refused to look at either the clock or her phone. Refused to acknowledge that her hour was passing by.
She heard the sound of a key turning in the lock of the door and forced herself to stay right where she was.
He opened the door, she saw him out of the corner of her eye. Watched him look into the living room tryiong to make sure he wasn't about to be ambushed by anyone and once he had determined that it was only her in the room he entered and shut said door behind him.
She didn't turn to look at him as he walked past her into the hallway.
Didn't say hello, didn't demand to know where he'd been. She just sat in the armchair and focused on her sketchbook.
She heard the sound of his bedroom window sliding shut. Heard the sound of him closing one door and opening another then closing it again.
The sound of running water.
She flipped a page in her sketchbook and started another drawing.
Glancing at her phone only once to check the time.
About five minutes went by before he came back into the living room. Sitting on the couch, hands across his knees.
"You're going to yell at me now huh?"
She lifted her head, looking directly at him for the first time since he'd come into the apartment. Only long enough to take in his appearance: New jeans and a different t-shirt. His hair was still wet from the shower. His face was the same. No visible cuts or bruises. No visible injuries. He was at least okay in that respect.
She turned her attention back to her sketchbook. "No." She said gently in response to his question.
She didn't have to look at him to know he didn't believe her.
"We're just going to talk."
"Talk?"
"What's your favorite color?"
Taken aback by the simple question he took a moment to reply.
"Green. What's yours?"
"Rainbows."
"That doesn't count as a color that's multiple colors."
"That way I don't have to pick a favorite color because I don't have just one."
"That's cheating."
"No, it's related to the question and I answered so it's my turn." Tikki tapped her pencil against the page of her sketchbook as she thought of a question.
"The number 13. Lucky or unlucky?"
"Depends on who you ask."
"I'm asking you."
"Just a number. Are you afraid of heights?"
"No. Comic books or video games?"
"Both. Dogs or cats?"
"Animals in general. Halloween or Christmas?"
"Halloween, I find that majority of people who are obsessed with Christmas to be extremely annoying and can only be tolerated in small doses."
He paused.
Tikki turned her attention back to her sketchbook, assuming that he had to think of a question to follow up his answer.
"I didn't know you could draw."
Not a question.
"I can't draw very well, I don't practice as much as I should. Marinette's friend Nathaniel gave me this for my birthday."
"When's your birthday?"
"July twenty-third."
"Cancer."
She lifted her head slightly to glance at him before she nodded at him. "Nooroo's mom is really into that kind of stuff. Astrological signs and Zen. She taught us some of it; Nooroo's a Virgo so I guess that explains why we get along so well..."
The thought of her cousin caused her throat to tighten.
He's leaving, Again. The thought was unnerving and a bit too overwhelming.
"It makes sense though. You're protective and he's reliable, from what I can tell anyway."
Tikki muttered under her breath.
"He's an over critical perfectionist especially when it comes to criticizing himself and I'm-"
Overemotional.
She exhaled slowly.
"-not helping." She finished. Setting her sketchbook beside her on the chair.
She'd come here to help him with his problems. Not complain about hers. Besides there was no problem. He was leaving, that didn't qualify as a problem especially not one that she could fix.
She looked around the room, trying to find something to change the subject.
Her eyes caught on the TV and the DVD cabinet.
"Will you show me how to play a video game?"
Plagg raised an eyebrow at the unrelated question and shrugged, snatching a controller from the coffee table and stood up to turn on the TV and the game system.
He tossed her a spare controller.
"I learn better if I just watch." He shrugged one should again and sat back down.
The room lapsed into an almost-silence only the sound effects from the TV could be heard as Tikki split her attention between what she was drawing and watching Plagg's video game character move around on the screen.
She stoof up from the armchair, sketchbook in hand and moved to the couch, sitting down with a cushion between them.
She waited a full six minutes before she spoke again, voice quiet so as not to distract him.
"Everyone was worried about you."
"I'm fine."
No, you're not. We both know you're not.
More almost-silence.
"I know that you don't want to talk about it. Whatever it is, I won't make you." She turned her full attention back to the sketchbook in her lap, flipping to a new page and staring at it, thinking, waiting.
She was so lost in her thoughts that it took her a miunute to realize that the silence wa an actual silence. He'd stopped playing his video game.
"Have I ever told you why I like superheroes so much?"
She kept her attention focused of her sketchbook as she felt a smile twitch at the corner of her mouth.
She could have said something like "I thought you said never to speak of that again" but she remained silent, her pencil hovering over paper as she waited.
"Because they can fix things, I wanted so badly to fix things because my own life was such a mess and I wanted to fix it, but I ended up running away from it instead." She wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but she just put her pencil to the paper as she listened to him talk.
"I wanted to fix things because I felt like it was all my fault even though people kept saying that it wasn't and then my little sister, Colette came along and I thought her being around would fix things and it didn't; she was too young to understand what was really going on, but I could tell she understood enough of it; I didn't want her thinking it was her fault so I made up these silly stories about how I was secretly a superhero because I wanted to give her someone to believe in- someone who wouldn't leave her- and I ended up breaking that promise and leaving anyway-" He stopped himself.
She said nothing, she was almost done with the drawing.
"You're the one who said you wanted to talk but I don't think you're even listening to me."
"I am," Tikki assured him gently, not taking her eyes off of her sketchbook. "it sounds to me like you're battling some serious inner akuma." Tikki said, eyes still glued to her drawing.
"A what?" Plagg asked.
"Akuma," Tikki repeated. "The japanese word for demon." She held up her sketchbook, turning it so he could look at what she had drawn.
Plagg raised an eyebrow.
"My inner demon is a butterfly?"
"Nooroo said that the technical term for this type of butterfly is a Lycaenidae. It's a trick that his therapist in America taught him to help him mentally deal with his PTSD caused by his injury; when he gets upset about not being able to professionally skate anymore. He taught me this because sometimes I have anxiety attacks and I taught Marinette because she tends to over think things and stress out too much; and now I'm going to teach you." Tikki clarified. "Now are you going to let me explain how it works or are you going to laugh?"
"... Okay I'll humor you."
Tikki reached for her box of colored pencils. "Usually Lycaenidae are blue with black wing tips, sometimes just pale blue or white."
Plagg looked at the drawing. It was just pencil lines and white negative space, Tikki hadn't colored it in yet.
Tikki reached for the black colored pencil and turned the sketchbook back to face her.
Plagg watched her for a minute.
She reached for dark purple next.
His eyes narrowed in confusion.
"You're not coloring it blue?" He asked.
"Nope." She answered, still bent over the page.
Plagg could see that she had a white- knuckled grip on the pencil and was surprised that the tip hadn't snapped off. She set the coloring utensil down and showed the drawing to Plagg again.
One side of the butterfly was still white.
Tikki leaned back, sharpening her dull pencils with a hand held sharpener and said nothing.
One side of the butterfly was still white.
Tikki leaned back, sharpening her dull pencils and saying nothing.
Plagg looked at the drawing until the sound of the pencil sharpener stopped, assuming she was going to take it from him to finish the process.
She set the pencils back down and just looked at him with an odd expression on her face. Like she was waiting for something.
"You're going to finish it, right?" He said, pushing the sketchbook closer to her... she made no move to take it, simply set the black and purple pencils on top of the page and sat back again.
"I'm not, you are."
He stared at her.
"You said you would humor me: Finish coloring it."
Okay fine. If she wants me to finish it I'll finish it.
He reached for the blue colored pencil- she pulled the box away from him.
"No."
He felt mildly annoyed.
"You said I had to finish it, I can color my half however I want." Were they really arguing about what color the stupid butterfly was? Were they nine?
"You can't though, it controls you, it doesn't want to be blue."
What the hell was that supposed to mean? "You said it was supposed to be blue."
"It's supposed to be, but it's not." She cast a meaningful glance at the sketchbook and then fixed him with the same look. "Use the black and purple."
Plagg looked at the sketchbook.
"But... they're so negative and depressing." She grinned. "That's the point."
She stood up, taking the rest of her art supplies with her.
"Here." Plagg shoved the drawing into the space between them. Tikki shook her head.
"That's not mine."
"Then what am I supposed to do with it?"
She shrugged. "Whatever you want, rip it to pieces, throw it away, bury it, pin it to a wall and use it for dart practice."
"Get rid of it."
"I usually burn them." Tikki suggested.
"I'm supposed to get rid of it?" Plagg asked again... that didn't seem very fair... yeah he admitted that he didn't want to keep the thing but... she had still drawn it for him, had tried to cheer him up in a way.
Tikki gave another shrug. "You could keep it and let it control you."
Plagg rolled his eyes, "it's just a drawing, it's not like it's going to come to life at night and possess me, it's just some stupid art therapy exercise."
Tikki turned to face him, a triumphant look on her face as she pointed an accusatory finger at him.
" That, that right there!'
"What?" Plagg scowled.
"Negativity."
Plagg scoffed. "You can't get rid of negativity, it's a byproduct of emotion."
"You can't get rid of it, but when you let it control the way you think," she snatched the drawing out of Plagg's hands and shook the paper, trying to get her point across. "That's when this," she shook the drawing one more time. "Get's inside here." She pointed to her own head. "And drives you crazy." She finished with an eerie whisper. Shoving the drawing back into Plagg's chest before she turned and stormed out of the apartment,
She almost ran into a very concerned looking Adrien outside of the apartment building but when he opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong she kept walking.
A/N: I was really tempted to skip an upload for today, seeing as I uploaded a double chapter yesterday. But alas, I'm trying to make this a habit.
Please excuse my errors. Though I did keep in the original authors errors. So maybe expect a quality remake?
