Quite short, but it's merely a transition chapter.

You guys had the best hypothesis about this chapter, I loved each one! And I love each and every one of you for sticking up with me!

And to think her day had begun so well.

Adrien had taken it upon himself to wake his girlfriend up on their day off ever so gently, peppering her face and neck with feather light kisses. He rarely was the one to initiate any form of affection bolder than small touches between them, so Marinette had made a point to revel in his touch, and answer every single kiss with one of her own. Relaxing into their free Saturday morning together, they both let the temperature in the room rise slowly, their caresses becoming more and more urging, and Marinette had ended her perfect morning so far losing herself into Adrien's tender lovemaking, finally understanding first hand what all the rage about "morning sex" was and why Nino and Alya wouldn't shut the hell up about it.

Once they finally managed to get out of the bed after an intense session of post-ecstasy cuddling spent giggling, kissing and talking about sweet nothings, Adrien had left her for his daily jogging. A boldness she didn't know she had in her had prompted Marinette to tease her lover about better ways to spend his pent up energy, and she had been rewarded with the very single sight of Adrien Agreste leaving in his sports attire with a definite pink blush spread on his cheeks.

Left on her own in Adrien's apartment, Marinette had treated herself to a long, nice and hot shower, effectively hogging all the hot water for herself and making Adrien whine to no end about the involuntary cold shower he had to take when he had come back from his run panting and sweaty. They then spent the afternoon in a comfortable silence, Adrien reading some obscure novel on one end of the couch while Marinette was curled up on the other end, hunched over herself as she was concentrated deeply on the not-so-blank-anymore page in her beloved sketchbook, her pencil gliding effortlessly on the paper. After a while, curious, Adrien had peeked over her shoulder, lifting an eyebrow in disbelief:
"Is it supposed to be me?"
Giggling softly, Marinette had retorted with a shy smile:
"Isn't it obvious?"
"Why did you draw me cat ears then?"
Stealing a soft peck of his unexpected lips, she had answered coyly:
"Because you're my chaton, why else?"
He had laughed heartily hearing her candid reply, and had planted a soft peck on her cheek before returning to his book.

She was happy.

Even as Adrien had left her after a quiet but lovely dinner to retrieve a newly spayed Tikki from the vet as well as some papers he had forgotten at Agreste, she had gladly taken that time on her own to change into her pajamas and fix herself a nice hot chocolate, fully intending on crawling into the huge and comfortable bed and watch a few episodes of her favorite show while waiting for him to return.

That's when she had turned on the television in Adrien's bedroom.

At first, she had been too focused to shooing a rather reluctant Plagg away from her side of the bed to fully catch what the news anchor was talking about. The young woman had finally succeeded after a lot of coaxing and heavy pettings in pushing the old grumpy cat on Adrien's side on the bed and had eagerly grabbed the remote to navigate through her lover's DVR. Frowning a little before the way too complicated device as she searched for the correct menu, some keywords from the news anchor speech finally imprinted themselves in her mind.

Rape.

Shame.

Teenager.

Despair.

Eiffel tower.

Tragedy.

Marinette's attention fully returning to the newscast, she closed up the distance between her and the screen. She was adamant she knew that young teenager from afar, her face was very familiar to her. No older than sixteen, it was bound to be one of Manon's classmates, the kid she used to babysit when herself was a teenager. The woman on TV went on again, stating just how tragic it was that someone so young had had her life stripped away from them, that she had felt enough despair following her sexual aggression and ensuing unwanted pregnancy that the only solution had been to launch herself from the Eiffel tower.

The young woman's head began to spin, as what the newscast was really about sunk in. Her free hand clasped on her mouth trying to repress the horror scream threatening to escape her lips while the other one held on the remote desperately, as it somehow held the power to change what had happened.

To make things right again, if not for her at least for the young victim.

To save her life.

Knowing that a small, poor, innocent and helpless teenager had suffered the same terrible and uncalled for fate as she had a few years back made a wave of guilt rush over Marinette's heart. Way too young, abused by her boyfriend, left behind pregnant and shameful. Left without any option besides trying to cope with all of this.

Marinette knew all too well how the young victim had felt. She had felt the same way, too often for her to admit it out loud. Hating yourself for being too weak to stop your boyfriend. Hating your body for being soiled, broken beyond repair, and betraying you by conceiving a child out of an act of hate instead of an act of love. Being convinced without the shadow of a single doubt that never again a man would look twice at you without seeing anything else than your blatant flaws. Believing that life wasn't worth the trouble anymore. It was often in the aftermaths of a particularly nasty panic attack that she thought like that, before the world began to make some sense again that she felt she should just end things off. That's only then that she'd allowed herself to think about how it would be easier to end the pain here and then for once and for all.

To surrender.

It had always remained nothing but a faint fantasy, an idea she couldn't bring herself to act upon no matter how it would be easier to her. After all, despite her gruesome past, she still had both her families supporting her no matter what, even if they only had half-truths to understand what was going on. The family she had been born into and the one she had chosen. Her parents, Alya and Nino were the reason she had kept fighting despite everything, the reason she stubbornly refused to give anything more than second thoughts to any suicidal ideas that brushed her badly bruised mind every now and then.

It felt like an eternity, staring at the news headlines while trying to suppress the emotions menacing to overwhelm her at any given time. Guilt washed over her even harder than before, making her breathing superficial and labored. If only she had spoken back then, maybe this girl wouldn't have felt alone and filthy to the point of taking her own life. If only Nate had had to face the consequences of his despicable actions, maybe that young man wouldn't have felt the right to do it too. Marinette stood there in the middle of her lover's bedroom, unable despite her best efforts to think clearly through the tsunami of emotions submerging her without mercy.

Through her catatonic state, she faintly registered Adrien shouting blurred words through the apartment, the bedroom door being slammed opened, a breathless huff before the TV being turned off. Muscular arms wrapping themselves tightly around her and a familiar, soothing voice whispered into her ear:
"I'm here Princess. I'm right here by your side and I won't go anywhere unless you want me to."
She hadn't even realized she was crying before feeling his thumbs gently wiping her cheek, his beloved green eyes full of worry. That's when her knees finally gave out, her legs buckling up under her. Adrien held her, supported her weight in his arms and let them both sink to the floor slowly. She looked at him, her anchor to sanity, her strength through tough times, her smile through happy ones. The familiar grassy irises were full to the brim of worry, while the lips she knew to be soft as can be were visibly trying to stretch into a reassuring smile. Herself trying to calm her rambling mind down, Marinette closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her lover's chest, seeking the sense of safety he never failed to give her.

The young woman didn't how long they stayed like that, Adrien kneeling on his bedroom floor with her held tightly in his lap, his arms wrapped securely around her. One of his hand kept drawing reassuring circles on her back while the other softly cradled her head against his chest. Marinette let the steady beating of his heart calm her down along with the kind word he kept whispering in her ear. She forced herself to focus solely on his voice, the sweetness of it, the love he poured in his whispers:
"It's okay love, I'm right here. You're safe. No one will hurt you here. I love you Marinette. I won't go anywhere without you. You're my heart and soul. I'm here. You're safe. I love you so, so much, Marinette."

As her breathing slowly came back to a normal pace, Marinette began to feel an odd anger flare up in her chest without warning. She was way beyond tired of living in fear of the next anxiety attack. She was tired of being randomly triggered by things beyond her control. Most of all, she was exhausted of letting what Nathanael had done to her dictate the way she went on with her life. The teenager on the news had given up on ever healing, on getting better one day, and the young designer refused to even consider doing the same. She wanted to heal, to have a normal life, maybe a family of her own someday.

If only to show the path to other girls that would get hurt in the future, that they had nothing to be ashamed of.

If only to teach to young men that they have no rights using their girlfriend's bodies as they want.

Deep inside, Marinette knew without a doubt what she had to do.

She needed a long overdue closure to be able to go on with her life without her past holding her back, to finally turn the page on those gruesome events still plaguing her years after. Finally regaining enough composure to think clearly, she reached a decision. With her big bluebell eyes pouring into her lover's green gaze questionably and the beating of her heart going crazy against his own steady beat, she simply asked in a mere whisper, knowing he'd hear her no matter what:
"Adrien, do you think it's it too late to press charges against Nathanael?"
Adrien sighed in relief as he kissed the crown of her hair, hugging her even tighter than before:
"Never on my watch, bugaboo."