In this first one-shot, you can find Marinette's POV of what happened seven years ago.
The excruciating pain surged through her body like a relentless tidal wave, an agony so overwhelming that it left her gasping for breath. It was unlike anything she had ever endured, a torment that defied description. In this moment of utter anguish, she tried to scream, but her voice abandoned her. It was as if her very soul was being torn apart. A nightmare beyond anything she had ever imagined.
Marinette's mind flashed back to the rooftop, where her thoughts had raced with panic. She'd wanted to act logically and, above all, as fast as possible. The weight of so many lives was resting on her shoulders. She needed to save the ones she'd sworn to protect, as well as her own teammates.
But it seemed that fate had had other plans.
She remembered standing on that rooftop, watching Chat Noir call for his cataclysm. She'd been about to call her own power when disaster had struck, the Angel of Darkness sending one last attack.
"Lucky—" she had begun to say before time seemed to slow down, and the neighbouring building started to fall down. Right on top of her.
She knew it was a catastrophe, that there was no escape and that her transformation was about to fade away. And she knew, without a doubt, that she was going to die. There was no surviving this.
Goodbye, she silently said to all those she loved.
She'd been surprised when her senses came back to her. The darkness had only briefly consumed her, and now, she could feel everything—her blood-soaked clothes clinging to her like a second skin, the thick smoke shrouding her, the oppressive heat of the flames, and above all, the ceaseless, excruciating pain. It was everywhere, all at once. It was all she could think about, all she could feel, all she was. It claws at her insides, preventing her from moving or even breathing.
"Oh, Marinette," Tikki' cried, the panic evident in her voice.
"Tik—," Marinette attempted to speak, though no sound came out.
"No, no, don't try to talk! Oh, I'm so, so, so sorry. I'm gonna make it okay. I'm sorry, Plagg," Tikki whispered, and Marinette didn't understand the meaning behind those words. Chat Noir wasn't here yet, right? "You're gonna be fine, Marinette, I promise."
If Marinette could have nodded, she would have. Maybe Tikki would be merciful enough to kill her. Only death would free her. This agony was unbearable, and she longed for it to be over. Sure, there were still dreams unfulfilled, experiences left unexplored, and love yet to be given. But it all seemed so far away right now. So impossible to reach.
Wait, where had Tikki gone? Marinette needed the comforting presence of her kwami right now, needed her when she was on the brink of death. She was going to die soon, whether it be from the flames, the loss of blood, or the overwhelming pain that threatened to consume her entirely. But she couldn't face it alone. Didn't want to.
"Ladybug!" Chat Noir's frantic voice echoed through the chaos as he desperately searched for her. "LB, where are you?"
I'm here, Marinette thought, her consciousness flickering like a fading ember.
"Oh, God, m'lady, I'm here, I'm here!" Chat Noir's words seemed much, much closer now.
Chaton...
"Oh, fuck... It's okay, I got you. I got you, m'lady."
His arms enveloped her, and she couldn't help but whimper in pain, though it was lost in the chaos. She should've felt safe in his embrace, protected from more harm, but instead, the pain intensified the moment his touch met her skin.
How could life be this painful? Who knows, maybe she was dead. Maybe she was stuck in her own, personal Hell, a place of eternal suffering for her broken body and soul.
She briefly felt the fresh air hit her skin, but it was just ... it was too much. She couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't fight the pain any longer. Couldn't fight death.
There are worse places to die than in his arms, she thought as the abyss finally claimed her.
And if she'd known the truth, if she'd known everything that would happen in the next years... She would've welcomed Death with open arms.
—
Marinette slowly awakened in a sterile white room, the harsh brightness making her blink several times as she struggled to regain her senses. Confusion gripped her, leaving her disoriented. Where was she? What had happened?
"Can you..." a faint voice said.
As her vision gradually cleared, she realized she was in a hospital. The telltale signs surrounded her—white walls, harsh overhead lights, distant conversations, the incessant beeping of monitors, and the discomfort of a tube shoved down her throat.
" ... me?"
Wait ... she was alive? She had actually survived? How was this possible? Marinette wasn't stupid; her injuries had been way too severe. It was a death sentence. She shouldn't be here.
"Can you hear me?"
Startled, Marinette jumped slightly, her eyes scanning for the source of the voice. A face came into focus, a middle-aged man in a white coat—the doctor.
"Ah, there she is. Welcome back," the doctor said with a gentle smile. "Blink twice if you can hear me, don't try to talk. Good, good."
"She's awake?" Another voice, familiar but out of place, chimed in.
Marinette's mind raced with questions. Where were her parents, her family, her friends, her partner? Why was she alone, in pain, and surrounded by strangers? Her body throbbed with discomfort, and fear gnawed at her. Nothing made sense.
I want my mommy, she wanted to cry, feeling like a child. Where's my mom?
She moved her eyes to look at Gabriel Agreste, though she couldn't figure out what he was doing here. From the corner of her eye, she saw the doctor leave the room.
"Ah, Miss Dupain-Cheng," Gabriel continued. "Do you know where you are? Hmm, I'll take that as a no. You're in Los Angeles, dear."
Los Angeles? Marinette's eyes widened. Why was she here? Had Adrien's father arranged for her to receive treatment for her injuries?
"You see, we've made some ... discoveries about you. Guys, will you come in, please."
The door swung open, and several individuals entered the room, their presence adding to Marinette's bewilderment. She had expected to see familiar faces, but instead, four people accompanied Gabriel—two strangers, his assistant, and Lila. Marinette might have been still confused, but she instinctively knew that something was dreadfully wrong. Gabriel Agreste and Lila Rossi in the same room? It couldn't be good.
The heart monitor's beeping escalated as Marinette scanned the room, her guts twisting. Nathalie appeared remorseful, but the others bore matching smirks. What was going on? What did Gabriel mean by discoveries?
"I wanted to be the first to welcome you to your new life, Ladybug."
Her heart skipped a beat. No, no, this couldn't be right. He didn't call her Ladybug. None of this was real. It couldn't be real, because if it was... The pieces finally seemed to fall into place as realization struck her like lightning. Because it wasn't just Gabriel Agreste standing in front of her; it was Hawkmoth. It was the only logical explanation. But why were the others here? What did they want?
"Don't try to deny it, Ladybug. We have your miraculous," Gabriel declared, his voice dripping with triumph.
A sense of panic surged within her as he advanced toward her bed. Marinette's body remained unresponsive, paralyzed. She longed to scream, to resist, to do anything, but she was trapped in her own helplessness. She could simply watch him, her eyes filled with tears as he smiled down at her.
"I'll be on my way now that you're awake, but I needed to be the one to tell it to you," Gabriel continued, leaning closer to her. "You've lost, Ladybug. I won."
Marinette's wide eyes betrayed her fear and despair, her heart pounding uncontrollably. As she watched Gabriel press a button, plunging her into darkness once more, she felt a profound sense of powerlessness.
If only she could've fought back.
——
Where am I?
What's going on?
...
Who am I?
——
"Victoria?" a male voice reached her ears from beside her. "You're awake?"
Victoria? She mulled over the name in her mind. It didn't sound bad, but somehow, it didn't quite fit.
The man's face gradually came into focus. He was undeniably handsome, with a strong jawline, light hair and dark eyes. But she didn't him.
"Baby, can you hear me?"
Baby? Was he her partner?
"It's gonna be alright, love," the man continued, his voice filled with concern as he gently touched her cheek. "You've been in an accident. Your family... I'm sorry, Vee. They didn't survive."
It should've hurt. She should've cried, and yelled, and begged for it all to be a lie. She should've been in tears, but ... there was nothing but a hollowness she couldn't comprehend.
Because she had no idea who her family was.
"Love?" the man prodded. "Did you hear me?"
"Who ... who are you?" she managed to rasp out, her voice trembling.
"Who am I?" The man's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, shit. They told me it could happen, but... I'm your boyfriend, Victoria. You really don't remember me?"
She shook her head, and a sense of unease washed over her.
"Okay ... do you remember anything?"
"No."
The man sighed deeply. "I see. It's gonna be fine," he reassured her, taking her hand in his, though the touch felt unfamiliar. "I'll help you through it. You're not alone, love."
——
"I don't get it," the woman said, taking a sip of her wine. "You've been hiding your relationship for years, is that what you're telling me?"
"Yes, Mom," Dylan admitted, scratching the back of his head. "I knew you wouldn't approve, and—"
His mother scrutinized Victoria from head to toe, her nose crinkling in disdain. "No, I wouldn't have."
Somewhere behind her, Dylan's younger sister couldn't contain her laughter.
"And that's why I didn't say anything! But Vee is alone now, and ... well, I'm the only family she has left."
"I understand, Son," Dylan's father, James, said, placing a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder. "You'll always be welcome here, Victoria."
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Personally, I don't care," Dylan's brother chimed in. "You're hot, by the way, despite the scars and whatnot."
"What the fuck, dude? You can't say that kind of thing," his sister replied, but the laughter in her voice betrayed her true feelings.
"What, why not? I'm just telling the truth!"
Dylan's elder sister suddenly slammed her hand on the table as she stood up. "Are you guys serious? Dad, who is this girl?"
"Your brother just told you, she's—"
"No, no, I don't believe it," she asserted, shaking her head. "I know full well what you're all capable of. Who is she, really? What have you done to her?"
"I would strongly advise you to stop speaking right now, young lady," James warned. "You're already a disgrace to this family. Don't make it worse by spreading baseless lies and rumours."
She turned to Victoria, apparently unfazed by her father's stern words. "Are you safe?"
"Absolutely. I love him," Victoria assured, her heart racing as she uttered the words she had been rehearsing in her head like a mantra for weeks.
"Really," the sister murmured, but it didn't sound like a question. Then, her demeanour changed. She straightened up and grabbed her bag. "Fine, you know what? I'm done. I've been giving you all excuses for years, trying to come back, but it's over now, for real. I need to focus on myself, my family, and my life."
She left the room without sparing a glance or word for anyone. They all fell silent for a moment until Dylan's mother shrugged.
"This girl and her conspiracy theories, I swear to God," she said, sinking into a nearby chair and lighting a cigarette. "We're not bad people, after all! Well, too bad for her. She'll come back anyway; she always does. Maybe in another two years or so. Now, Victoria..." She once again assessed her from head to toe, making a tsking sound with her mouth. "Honestly, Dylan, you couldn't do any better? She's pretty, sure, but the scars, the crutches, that haunted look on her face... And what's up with that hair colour? It looks like a badly done blea—"
"That's enough, Mom!"
She should've listened to Dylan's sister and left when she had the chance.
—
"My god, you look just like this girl I used to go to school with!" the girl exclaimed, her eyes widening as she regarded her newfound acquaintance.
"Really?" Victoria replied.
"Yeah, she could be your twin!"
"Are you guys still friends?"
The girl's reaction was subtle but unmistakable. She flinched, a shadow crossing her expression. "No, no ... she, uh, she actually died in the infamous akuma attack. You know, that one..."
"Oh, yeah, my boyfriend told me about it... I'm so sorry, truly."
"It's fine, don't worry," the girl reassured her. "Hey, wanna go grab a coffee?"
A warmth spread through her. Was this the opportunity she'd been waiting for? Finally, a chance to have a friend, someone she could confide in, hang out with, and laugh with... It was everything she yearned for. Her boyfriend was great, sure, but he kept talking to her about a past she couldn't remember. And his family... Well, she'd rather not even think about them.
But with a new friend, she could start over, and learn about the person she had become without the baggage of her forgotten past. This newfound friendship might just be the key to rebuilding her life.
"Sure, let's do this!"
—
The voice inside her head screamed in panic, urging her to run, to escape, and not to look back. Her heart raced, pounding in her chest like a drum, as she opened her eyes in the dark room, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. Dylan lay beside her, peacefully asleep, unaware of the turmoil brewing within her.
She couldn't stay here.
Go, now! the voice urged her, growing more desperate.
She wasted no time. Panic coursed through her veins as she swiftly rose from the bed and took off running, her bare feet pounding against the floorboards. The urgency was palpable, drowning out all other thoughts and concerns. Escape was her only goal.
The commotion she caused seemed to wake the others in the apartment. Marinette could hear Dylan and their new roommate pursuing her, calling out her name—or rather, her fake name. She ran down the stairs in her translucent nightgown, disregarding the noise she made. Her only thought was to escape the nightmare that seemed to be closing in on her. With each step, the sound of pursuit grew closer. Her limbs protested with each stride, but fear propelled her forward. She needed to reach the street, to find help, to escape the horrors lurking behind her.
Finally, she reached the ground floor, ran through the hallway and flung open the door, the cool night air hitting her exposed skin. It sent shivers down her spine, but she couldn't stop. She had to keep moving. On the corner of the street, the dim glow of a police car's lights caught her eye—perfect!
Run to him! the voice urged.
She sprinted toward the police car, desperation pushing her to the brink. Collapsing into the arms of an unsuspecting police officer, she clung to him, her attire and panicked expression eliciting a stunned reaction.
"My god, ma'am, are you alright?" he asked, concern in his voice.
"Please, help—"
"Vee!" Lila's voice cut through the chaos as she finally caught up, her face a mask of concern. "Oh, my God, Vee, are you okay?"
He looked down at her. "Do you know this woman?"
"No, no, please..."
"She's my best friend!" Lila responded with an air of feigned worry. "She's been in an accident, and..."
"Everything's gonna be fine," Dylan interjected confidently, approaching with determination. "This girl's my girlfriend."
"Ma'am is this..."
"My name's Dylan Turner. I think you might have heard of my father, James Turner?"
The policeman jumped in shock and his demeanour shifted abruptly as he recognized the name. "Right, right. Well, then ...," he attempted to push Marinette back toward Dylan, oblivious to her pleas for help. "I've heard about it all. Uh, good luck."
And just like that, he walked away, leaving Marinette in the clutches of Dylan and Lila. He didn't ask any more questions, didn't look her away, he just ... left.
Marinette wanted to scream, to resist, but it felt futile. It was futile. No one took her seriously. No one believed her, and the person who should have helped her was leaving without a single glance in her direction.
She was truly alone.
"I swear to God, we need to put a fucking bell on her," Dylan muttered, his fake smile hiding his annoyance as he waved at the departing officer.
"What about a shock collar?"
"Please, just let me go," Marinette pleaded, her little strength fading away as they dragged her back into the building.
"Just shut the fuck up," Lila spat, dragging her back into the building.
Oh, I'm so, so sorry... Tikki whispered inside her mind.
Two years ago, she would have fought back and resisted them with all her might. But she was nothing more than a mere shadow of her former self. She longed for the girl she used to be, missed the strength and resilience that had once defined her. But now, she just wanted it all to be over. She couldn't deal with it anymore. Couldn't keep losing her memories, only for them to come back every once in a while, bringing with them a horrible, terrible truth. The thing she'd said and done with amnesiac... It haunted her.
What have I done to deserve this? she thought bitterly.
They could take her miraculous, take everything she had, make their damn wish for that matter. All she wanted was her life back—her friends, her family, her soul, her innocence, her trust, her body, her girlhood. It all belonged to her, and she wanted it back.
If only she had known, at fourteen, the price she would pay when she had agreed to become Ladybug...
She would've been more careful...
She could've prevented it all...
She should've said no.