He burst through his apartment door as Adrien, ignoring the mobs and the bright flashing lights of their cameras. Nobody saw Chat Noir leave—or at least, they didn't see his reverse transformation—and nobody asked any questions. In fairness he had been so completely intent on avoiding them that they didn't have the chance to ask. Those souls in the hospital weren't exactly focused on him at that time. Not with the tragedies he'd created. One. Single. Storm.

The new addition of his guilt today was his run-in with his long lost lady. He'd been so focused on her that he had blatantly ignored everyone and everything else. He could've checked out the damage. He didn't. He opted to nearly have his throat slit by the very woman he vowed to fight alongside, and one day share his life with. Oh how quickly the fates turned against him…

He locked his door and rested his head against it with a huge sigh. Having never used his cataclysm, Plagg was energetic and healthy in his trademark jacket.

At first Plagg was going to demand another camembert buffet. But this time it was Adrien who was wiped out after being Chat Noir, and Plagg knew it. The normally outspoken and, frankly speaking, inappropriate kwami was silent for once, contributing to a thick and somber atmosphere that nobody needed. No matter what Adrien wanted to say, he couldn't, and kept his eyes on the floor. His breathing was even and he'd run out of tears to cry but his mind still reeled in the worst way. It couldn't keep up with the day in real time and the images flickered back and forth in the timeline—one second he was Chat Noir finding a sickly Marinette on the brink of death, then he was Adrien commanding Plagg to refill on cheese, then he was talking to Ladybug, then Marcel was in his arms, then the snake telling him to get rid of the ring, then Ladybug was dying, then a knife was held to his throat… His brain couldn't decide which part of the day to focus on and it was killing him, seeing it over and over instead of playing out one little scene to process it.

The worst part was that none of today had been surreal. If it had, there would be some hopeful sliver of a chance he could go to sleep and wake up the next day convinced it was a horrible dream. And he could selfishly avoid the hospital and Marinette to keep up the idea that none of it ever happened—thereby giving him no reason to see Marinette stuck in a hospital that he had singlehandedly put her in. And there would be no reason to come by Marinette's place or her parents' bakery to find anyone in home care. Anything like that. Marcel would be fine, he wouldn't need to talk to Alya and Nino. Everyone would be fine. No need to be anywhere near the destroyed park even for photoshoots.

"I know it's been a pretty rough day—"

"There's camembert in the fridge," Adrien monotonously interrupted.

He saw Plagg float over to his side and frown at him. More pity. Great.

"At least you won."

"I lost," Adrien countered.

"Things like this happen… It's not your fault…"

"I should've done my job, I should've focused on the dumb snake."

"I mean…you got to see Ladybug again," Plagg said timidly, treading a sensitive topic in light of today.

"I shouldn't have brought her back out."

"You didn't, it was the akuma attack, it forced Ladybug out."

"I shouldn't have looked for Marcel—"

"You promised Alya and Nino you'd bring him back and you did."

"The storm wouldn't have even happened."

"You don't know how long it would've taken."

"If I'd been there earlier Ladybug wouldn't have been forced out, maybe she would've had a chance at staying hidden."

"Lady—"

"She needed rest."

"I…I don't really think rest will help her now, she's not…exactly…"

"She won't make it," Adrien finished. "I know."

He sighed and dragged himself to his couch, slumping into it as deeply as he could.

"Neither will Marinette…" he added. "And she gets to live out her final days in abuse…more pain…"

She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve this secret life she hid from everyone. She was an amazing, intelligent, beautiful woman who hadn't done a thing to live this way. It was bad enough she was terminally ill. It was even worse that she was spending whatever time she had left—whenever her last reserves of energy to fight ran out on her—with a guy who clearly didn't care how much she was already suffering and had to make it all worse. Somehow she kept smiling through all that. For years. And the only reason he hadn't actually noticed? Marinette came second fiddle to everything else in his life. Even Alya and Nino held priority over her, he supposed because he could communicate with them so much more often. Then his photoshoots. His travel. Chat Noir. TV appearances. Inside interviews.

And he had completely excluded Marinette. The only time he ever really thought about her was when he was reminded of her existence by showing off her designs—her incredible, original, highly skilled designs that took so much time and effort that she didn't even have the energy for. And he never thanked her. He hardly spoke to her and when he did, it was a simple text or email that basically just said hi. It wasn't uncommon to not hear back at all. What if she wasn't allowed to? What if, along with abuse, her partner was controlling? And maybe there was just no way out for her. Maybe it wasn't as simple as "just packing up and leaving."

If he had gone to visit her she would've been forced to talk to him and he could've seen for himself that something was off. But instead he contented himself with Alya and Nino and got used to never seeing or hearing from Marinette.

And her illness that she was obviously hellbent on not so much as mentioning, maybe if he'd caught it early on he could've gotten her the best medical care and she would've had the rest of a long life to look forward to. She could've moved in with him if she'd needed anything extra. He could've taken the utmost care of her. Pharmaceutical expenses wouldn't have been an issue. Food, shelter, bedding, and anything else she even desired, he would've gladly provided. He had so much money she would've only received the best care anyone could possibly afford. She would've had the best nurses, the best doctors, the best medicines… She would've had the most comfortable bed and the freshest, most nutritious foods. The purest water. The lushest blankets. The softest pillows. The cleanest environment.

And now it was too late for him. For her. He could've done so much and he didn't do ONE DAMN THING. His friend was sick, she was dying, and he never bothered with her. He never even kept her company! Doctorskept her company every month. Her parents kept her company when they could. The one person who shouldn't have kept her company was her boyfriend or fiancé or husband, whatever their marital status. The last time Adrien was Marinette, before Chat Noir nearly killed her of course, was two years ago. Chat never inspected her hand so he couldn't remember seeing a ring or not. Hopefully not. Hopefully she didn't live with her please-don't-be husband. Hopefully she—

Sheeeeee could… If she wasn't married it wasn't too late… Well it was… But it wasn't… He could somewhatatone for what he'd done to her for so long…

His eyes shot open.

"Marinette's moving in with me!" he shouted to his kwami.

"What?!"

"I won't take no for an answer!" Unless she was married in which case he'd have no say in the matter. "I can make her last days the most comfortable last days anyone could ever have!"

Plagg's jaw dropped.

"Adrien, you can't just force someone to live in—"

"In what? My home? I can…sort of make up for the way I've been treating her."

"The way you've been—! She's the one who never makes an effort to communicate with anyone!"

"Because she's dying with an abusive boyfriend or spouse, whatever he is! He probably won't let her!"

"You really need to think about this," Plagg begged. "This is a really big decision and—"

"And Chat Noir is responsible for civilian lives before akumas. Yes or no?"

"You heard the doctor, she's in and out of hospitals all the time, Chat Noir can't help her."

"Yes. Or. No?" Adrien slowly repeated.

Plagg groaned in exasperation but nodded his head.

"Then Chat Noir is helping a civilian. Yes or no?"

"No because neither Chat Noir or Adrien can do anything for her now! She is literally a dead girl walking!"

"Chat Noir is making that 'walking dead girl's' last days comfortable," Adrien retorted. "It's something immortal beings wouldn't understand. Marinette must be terrified. Even the doctors don't know how much time to give her."

"I understand that death is a part of life, kid. Every time Chat Noir faces a strong akuma, I think, what if this is the time I have to watch my next Chat die? And sometime later I'll have to work with some random other Chat, teach him all over again, hope he doesn't remind me of you or any of my previous Chats. I understand. But…there's nothing we can do. There's no stopping the inevitable."

As much as Adrien wanted to agree, for a multitude of reasons, he had to mentally disagree—only because Plagg would vocally fight back. Maybe Adrien and Chat Noir couldn't ensure survival, since death was in fact a terrible part of life, but making Marinette comfortable before she passed would only be right. There was Marcel to worry about too and he would check up, but Marcel had a lot of people to help take care of him. Marinette's parents were getting older and had a business to run that, as far as he knew, still had no other employees. Not to say that they couldn't take care of their daughter, but it would probably be for the best if someone else did so, someone who could at the very least have a nurse stay with her to tend to her needs. A good nurse. No, a great nurse.

As much as he hated using his massive income as leverage for anything, it would probably be the best device to use if presented with an argument against her moving in with him, especially given that they barely had any communication for several years. Really the only thing that could dissuade him from this idea would be if she was married. But assuming she wasn't…

How long would it take to get the place fixed up anyway? It was a bit of a mess right now but it wasn't anything he couldn't clean up himself. He would need to spruce things up though. Women were generally a little more refined than men…and they had tendencies to like flowers and tiny things. Maybe get some flowers or something. She would need a bed… Problem, he only had one bedroom and although he could afford two separate beds instead of the one he currently slept in, he didn't like the idea of himself sleeping in the same room with a woman he wasn't married to, even if that woman was Marinette and even if his intentions were pure. He could afford an entirely new apartment with two bedrooms but it would still take a while to settle into it, to have everything ready for her when she came, and he wanted to get her out of there as soon as possible.

He had about a week—Dr. Martin did say she would be in the hospital for a week at most before she would leave, per her norm—to spruce everything up and figure out how to convince Marinette to move in with a friend she hadn't seen in years.

He looked at Plagg with an unbreakable resolve in his eyes. The kwami frowned in defeat and nodded to Adrien's will.

A/N

You may have noticed the summary change (or addition, more accurately). I felt like, since this is a more suspenseful fanfic, I should give a little more information. The original one wasn't exactly…insightful. Hopefully it is now. :)

Thank you so much for all the reviews and support! It really does mean a lot! ;) Aaaand I never said theories/ideas were bad. It's actually pretty fun to read them!