World On Fire: No More Heroes

by DrTwit

Marinette never thought there'd come a time where her only ally was Hawkmoth, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Three years after his death, Gabriel Agreste awakens to a Paris ruled by akumas and no heroes left to defend it. To save his son, and perhaps even his soul, he must team up with his arch nemesis, Ladybug, to save a future built by their mistakes.

27. Old Habits

Present

"This is… Quaint." Gabriel said in that short, breathy tone where you could just hear his eyes twitching in his head.

Marinette peered up at him, eyes half lidded. "Could you sound like any more of a passive aggressive snob?"

"You know I can." He shot back, almost sounding proud of himself.

The Liberty was hard to recognise at first. It was technically the same ship in the obvious ways, Marinette could recognise the shape, the layout, the mini stage set up on the front end and the glass cabin settling on the back; but all personality had been stripped from it. Miss Couffaine's brightly coloured illustrations on the hull had been painted over, lavish pinks, splatters of pale blue, the sharp illustration of a shark's grinning face – all of it was just a clean brown layer now.

A banner hung over the plank connecting the ship to the shore, spitting out the same sales pitch as the girl they met earlier. Multiple chairs and tables, all with a pirate theme to them, had been set up on the deck. It reminded Marinette of those fancy party boats you'd see on TV with string lights wrapping around every corner of the ship, and a band on stage. Only, instead of a fancy suited string quartet, it was a gaggle of drunk men in rags belting out tavern tunes to a crowd of disinterested customers.

"See anybody you recognise?" Gabriel asked.

Marinette strained her eyes trying to look through the swaths of people both boarding and exiting the ship, desperately hoping to see one of the Couffaine's unique hair colours poke through the crowd. At best, she managed to spot the girl from earlier greeting people on the plank. "Just the girl that gave us the flyer."

The two shared a brief, uncomfortable look before pushing forward. No matter where they went they were strangers in a new world, even the places that looked familiar had been made alien to them, so they had no choice but to explore.

The girl, upon recognising the two, shot them a wide grin as they approached, eagerly pulling them along to show them to their seats. Gabriel glared daggers at her hand daring to touch his own, but managed to resist speaking up about it.

When they were sat down, the girl practically pushed the menus into their hands and scampered off before they could say anything. Gabriel sighed as he opened his menu, his lips forming an ever deepening frown as his eyes scanned over the page. And then, suddenly, he stopped, eyes narrowing and peering over the rim of the menu to find hers.

"The thought occurs…" He started in a low, cautious murmur. As if he feared that someone would hear Gabriel Agreste admitting to not considering something so obvious. "That we don't have any money to pay for food."

"Actually…" Marinette leaned back in her seat, casting a quick glance around her before removing a thick wad of euro banknotes from her pocket. She waved the stack in front of her face, obscuring half of her face behind them.

Gabriel blinked rapidly, trying to recall any time she'd have had to scrounge up any money. Had he left some lying around in the mansion? "Where did you get this from?" He asked as he leaned forward, pulling a few bills from the stack and observing them curiously.

"You know that entire line of people I tripped into and knocked over on the way here?" Marinette explained, a sheepish grin hiding her nerves as she roughly scratched the back of her neck. "I saw an opportunity."

"Ah, I see. Your clumsiness is just a façade for your underhanded tricks." Gabriel hummed, pushing his glasses back into place to 'observe' this less innocent side to his sworn enemy that he had never picked up on. "I knew nobody could be that much of a walking disaster."

Marinette did not respond for a good few seconds. When she did, her expression was frozen, and her voice was quiet. "…Yeah. Totally."

She pulled the bills up to her eye, really examining them for the first time since snatching them. An instinctive groan escaped her lips when she found that Bob Roth's visage was staring back up at her. "Of course he made his own currency."

Gabriel shrugged, "Hey, if I had the opportunity, I'd put my face on a coin."

Marinette scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, because you're an ego-driven maniac."

Gabriel didn't look offended. In fact, he grinned, revelling in her response. "An ego-driven maniac with style, thank you very much."

Instead of shooting back, Marinette instead turned her focus on her menu. It was all the unhealthiest fast food junk that would make a dietitian faint – nothing she'd eat on the regular – but the very thought of food was enough to stir up her stomach with a primal growl. Her eyes glazed over checking off food names, her taste buds exploding with the distant memory of food she thought she'd never get to try again. It was as if it were the first time in her life that she'd ever experienced the desire to eat.

"…Are you drooling?" She heard Gabriel sneer with a disgusted edge.

Yes, she realized, she was drooling. And she would not feel any shame for it!

Okay, maybe a little shame. But she wouldn't tell him that.

She dropped her menu down, crossing her arms with a huff. "It's technically been two years since I've eaten real food, okay? My stomach is craving something greasy and messy."

"Well, if you'd just accepted my-"

"On my honour as the daughter of a baker; I'm not eating your bland mouldy pancakes."

He scoffed, "Suit yourself."

In contrast to her feverish hunger, she found Gabriel peering down at his menu through a furrowed brow. He was cautious, as if he were looking over a minefield.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"I have no idea what any of these menu items mean, but the pictures are just screaming obesity." His nose crinkled, catching a whiff of a foul memory. "Reminds me of the last time I visited America."

"Just get the basic burger meal." She said simply, shrugging her shoulders and sinking in her chair. Glancing down once more, she found her eyes widening when she caught a glimpse of the dessert options. "Oh, I'm totally getting some ice cream too. Anything to get that underground grime taste out of my mouth."

God, if it were any other day, she'd feel like a glutton, but in this moment of weakness, she had needs.

A minute or so after they'd placed their orders, a muffled, jaunty jingle drew their attention to the TV positioned on a podium in the middle of the deck. 'Record Scratch' appeared on the screen in big bold letters, with musical instruments and different coloured records painting the background. Soon enough, the title card faded to a familiar face standing inside a dark theatre – Alec Cataldi.

A spotlight shined down on him, illuminating how depressing he looked. Even through the bad quality, Marinette could tell he'd lost weight. The man no longer wore his Wishmaker wig and the rest of his attire had been switched out for a gawdy blue suit covered in glitter.

He held a microphone to his lips and put on a grin that was a shadow of the beaming smile Marinette remembered. "Welcome back to 'Record Scratch'! The one, and only, show on the Bob Roth network."

He paused for the canned, pre-recorded cheers and applause. When he was ready, he thrusted his free hand out in a grand sweeping gesture, throwing his body into a spin. "Tonight, we continue our never-ending quest to find the brightest stars in all of New Roth as dreamers come from all over to perform in front of our elite judges."

A collection of 'ooo's from offscreen, followed by a steady drum building up as Alec took off across the stage. It was hard not to miss how his expression twitched every few seconds, exposing the more tired man behind the smile, before being stuffed back inside. "Now, our hosts need no introduction, but we're gonna play the music anyway, it's…"

The loud bellow of a trumpets followed the camera turning across the room. Briefly, Marinette caught a glimpse of the audience, which she was fully convinced were all cardboard cutouts being pushed up and down.

Finally, the camera settled on the bright white table that curved around the front of the stage (designed to look like a broken record), three men sitting at it's front in gold, cocoon shaped chairs. Each of them had a record player in front of them.

The first one was no surprise. Bob Roth, in the flesh, only now he looked like a young man again, his grey hairs back to a fresh brown, his cheek filled out and all those wrinkles smoothed over. "Bob." He waved to the camera.

Next was Gold Record, just as Marinette remembered him, leaning back in his seat and propping his feet up on the table. "Bob!" He decided to shoot finger guns at the camera.

The third judge was… A skeleton? In a suit? Either way, he didn't respond to the camera at all. Just sat slumped in his seat. "And… Bob!"

"Oh god, there's three of them." Marinette muttered in utter horror, "How is there three of them?"

"Akuma." Gabriel pointed out.

Marinette paused, feeling like slapping herself. "Right. I knew that."

Alec dropped down, sitting at the edge of the stage to perfectly place himself in the corner of the camera view while keeping the Bobs in frame. "How are we feeling, Bobs? Optimistic?"

"Well, Alec-" Normal Bob cut himself short to glare at the camera, aggressively flicking his wrist until the camera zoomed in closer and booted Alec out of the frame. "I've got no doubt that we have one heck of a line up today. I should know, I'm the one who set it all up!"

There was a brief 'PLOP' as Alec scrambled off his ledge and threw himself against the table, fighting against a grimace to try and make it all look natural. "Ooo, so no duds then?" He asked breathlessly, his eyes screaming for help as he stared at the camera.

Gold Record leaned forward, firing off the finger guns again. "Of course, Baby. When you've got the Midas touch, all you see is gold, gold, GOLD!"

"And what about you, other Bob; do you think we're in for a good time?"

Alec held out the microphone under the skeleton's hanging jaw, but no sound or expression came through. Alec turned back towards the camera, cupping his cheek to mask his voice as he spoke to the audience. "As per usual, Bob leaves us with nothing but dead air."

The classic dwindling trumpet 'wha, wha, whaaaaa' played out, giving Alec time to shuffle back onto the stage and crouch down in front of the closed curtains. He played with the curtain's edges, peeling back the material an inch to peek through before shooting a good natured, forced, goofy expression back at the camera.

"Now, let's welcome our first contestant of the day!"

The music came in full swing as the curtains raised, revealing the silhouette of a woman huddled as far back as the stage would allow, desperately hiding from the spotlight. It was hard to hear over the music, but Marinette caught another sound at play, something wet and fleshy scraping by, something slithering in the dark that made every floorboard creak along the way.

Suddenly, the female figure jumped and tumbled forward, as if thrown by an unseen force, rolling into the spotlight. In the light, the red rims of her eyes, puffed up and dried, were clear for all to see.

There was a moment where Alec's body language faltered, where the pity and fear he felt for this woman became apparent. The very sight made Marinette's heart leap, a horrifying dread taking root in her heart. But in a flash, it was pushed behind the mask of the show host, slipping so easily that Marinette could tell it was a survival instinct.

Alec did the best he could to comfort the girl, crouching down to help her to her feet, wearing his false smile while muttering something in her ear. Eventually, he managed to get her to stop shaking and, with one arm around her shoulders to steady and comfort her, he resumed.

"What's your name, Honey?" He asked before holding the microphone to her lips.

"J-Julie." She murmurs into the mic. "I used to be a waitress at the Gold Record."

"She looks terrified." Gabriel mused.

"And I think it's more than simple stage fright." Marinette spat, wishing so dearly that she could reach into the tv and pluck the girl from whatever Bob had in store for her.

"That's a wonderful name, perfect for a girl who looks so sweet." Alec's free hand trailed over her long, tattered hair, straightening it out. "Doesn't she look sweet as sugar?"

Normal Bob yawned while Gold Record looked over his finger nails.

"And…" Alec pauses, repeating his questions in his head over and over again before slowly picking up the pace. "Where are you from?"

"I'm from Germany." She said, her voice so fragile Marinette could hear her heart break. "I was on vacation when… You know."

"Oooo, you're a little far from home now, aren't you?" Bob's smile as he giddily leaned forward was predatory and hungry. "I bet ya feelin' home sick, aren't ya Doll?"

She nodded weakly, "Y-Yes, Sir."

Gold Record joined his thumb and forefingers together to form a camera frame, pretending to take snap shots of the girl. "A foreign gem swept up in the turmoil of a land she doesn't know."

Bob clasped his hands together. "Oh, that sounds exotic, sounds like something that can pull on the heart strings and the wallets. We can make you work!"

The girl's face paled. The prospect of impressing Bob seemed to scare her more than disappointing him.

Bob leaned back, offering the camera a sneak view of a crooked, golden tooth. "Now, why are you here, Doll?"

It took a minute, and pressing from Alec, for her to respond. Even with the microphone so close, she still sounded so quiet, so fragile. "Because I puked on Mr. Roth's shoes."

"They were crocodile-skinned boots as well." Gold Record cried out, "Tragic loss really."

"And when she'd finished vandalizing Other Bob's priceless wardrobe, I realized that she had the perfect throat for belting out notes." Bob bragged, rasping his knuckles against his chest, where his heart would have been if the man had any. "So, instead of feeding her to the akumas, I knew I needed her on a stage."

He finished spreading his arms out, laughing madly. "Do I know talent, or do I know talent?"

Silence fell like an anvil. Bob's gazes narrowed, sweeping over the stage expectantly, but only finding disappointment.

He cleared his throat, "Ahem. Judy."

She jumped, the spotlight bouncing off the gleam of her sweat. "S-Sir?"

Bob's smile was all fangs, no comfort. "Don't you want to thank me for giving you this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?"

"T-Thank you, Mr. Roth."

He leaned back in his chair, waving her off. "Oh please, there's no need to thank me. Just…" He drew his finger to his tie, straightening it and, as the silence unravelled, the loud, wet slithering sound was allowed to announce itself. "Make sure to wow the crowd, alright?"

Marinette and Alya used to watch foreign pop idol shows all the time. They'd hunker down over weekends with some sweet treats and soft drinks they'd pretend was alcohol, and they'd laugh at the contestants embarrassing themselves on TV. The ones with the insanely weird act, the unlucky sods who had a sudden wardrobe malfunction, and, of course, the divas who couldn't carry a note to save their life.

Julie wasn't a diva, but she literally couldn't carry a tune to save her life.

But Marinette wasn't laughing at her, today she was fearful for her.

She'd only gotten a few notes into her song, the wheeze of her lungs overpowering the backing track, before the fake audience were crying out in boo's. Alec turned away from the camera, his arms lying uselessly by his side.

"Oh god, stop. Stop!" Bob cried out as he looked to his fellow Bobs for support, "What was that? Singing, or a dying cat?"

"Sorry, Sir." Julie sniffled, curling back into herself as Bob's hatefully eyes bore into her. "I've never really sung before."

CRASH!

Something was smashed off screen, something that made Julie's eyes widen and her skin pale to a snow-like texture. She creeped backward, her eyes trained on something the camera didn't see.

Bob leaned forward, his fingers drumming against the countertop in slow, aggressive strokes. There was nothing but annoyance and disgust in his eyes, challenging her to dare speak against him. "What was that?" His voice was cold, quiet, and more threatening than Marinette could ever have imagined Bob Roth being.

"I've never-"

"I heard you the first time."

His fist slammed down. Julie squealed and jumped backwards, but she knew she had nowhere to run, nowhere to crawl to; nothing.

"What, do you think I'm deaf or something?"

"N-no, Sir!"

Gold Record scoffed, "So, she can't sing?"

Bob threw his hands up in the air, glaring at Julie as if she were this horrendous, odious, offensive little thing that needed to be expunged. "Apparently not!"

"And she didn't tell us." Gold Record's glare joined Bob's , the slithering becoming louder and louder.

"Didn't tell us nuddin'." Bob nodded.

Gold Record continued to growl, "Let us set up an entire stage for her and didn't tell us that."

"She must think we're deaf and dumb." Bob hissed, his fingers digging into the table, scraping at the paint until his finger tips were beat red.

Julie fell to her knees before them, shuddering and choking on her own words. "I didn't mean to insult you at all, Sirs! It just all happened so fast."

"Well, I'm sorry to say, Jenny, but…" Bob clicked his fingers, not an inkling of remorse not be found. "I don't think you're our star today."

Apparently, Julie knew where this was going, screaming out desperately. "No, no! I can try again. I can do better this time!"

Gold Record grinned, a cruel grin. "Now now, that would be unfair to the rest of the contestants, wouldn't it?"

Bob nodded in agreement. "Don't worry though, you'll get your chance to play again. You know, when we feel like it."

The two Bobs turned to each other.

"In the meantime, we're gonna send you to a nice little place where you can…"

"Work on your vocals for a while."

"Yeah, that's right."

For a moment, Marinette dared to hope that would be it, that humiliation was all that was in store for the woman. The camera held on the woman's face, watching the temptation to run drain from her eyes until the woman's body slumped over and accepted her fate.

A split second before the camera panned away to Alec, the floorboard erupted in pieces, Julie's shrill scream only lasting two seconds afterwards.

Alec gulped, desperately fighting a losing battle to keep his face blank, to keep it all together. "Uh… Uh… D-Don't touch that remote, we still have several more contestants coming up after these messages."

Marinette was left staring at the screen long after the show cut away. Her hands lay uselessly on the table, tension holding her fist together and digging her nails so deep into her skin they drew blood.

"That poor woman." She spat through gritted teeth, "I can't believe how bad everything has gotten."

Gabriel didn't answer straight away, his own thoughts consuming him for a moment before he added, in a timid voice, "Even more reason to keep our heads down and not draw attention to ourselves." He shook his head, gathering his courage to give his voice more strength. "The sooner we find our phantom, the sooner we can get out of here."

"We're not leaving, not while Bob Roth is holding everyone in gold chains." Marinette snapped, slapping the tabletop and turning her glare, and her excess energy, towards Gabriel. "That girl is probably one of hundreds he's done this too."

"You are not Ladybug anymore."

It was a precise attack. A steel dagger, cold and impossibly sharp, stabbed right through her, ripping out her heart and smacking her to the ground. Such pain his simple words drew from her wounds, enough for her to feel tears prickle at the corner of her eyes.

"In our current state, we barely managed to defend ourselves against one sentimonster that was nothing more than a beast with nasty screech. We are not equipped to take on a scummy music producer whose been given the mantle of a tyrant."

"Oh, Gabriel Agreste suggesting running away from our problems." She forced out a laugh, distain playing on every note. "Excuse me if I doubt your wisdom."

"Don't be a fool, girl. Put your pride aside for now and think." He stood up from his seat, suddenly towering over her. "There's nothing that we can do right now, we knew that since we started this twisted journey. The only way you can help is by fulfilling our current goals and reclaim the ladybug miraculous."

"But-"

His hand snapped into place and, for a moment, Marinette truly thought that he was going to slap her. Instead, his hand came up to her forehead, pressing into her scalp, pressing his words into her mind and twisting them for all they were worth.

He continued with his cold, relentless voice that wielded enough base to give Marinette a headache. "Throwing yourself before an enemy you can't defeat because taking the long way round isn't as convenient is not heroic, it is arrogant and childish."

He didn't look at her in anger, nor did he look at her in sympathy. He stared at her calmly, regarding her as just a fool disturbing his day, as a distraction that's been forced to be his problem. "Getting yourself pointlessly captured or killed now would be to spit on all those you claim to fight for."

She glared back at him, fire burning in her eyes, her tongue ready to sharpen itself as a blade and lash out at him. She wanted to shoot back, to curse him out, to scoff at him having any room to talk to her like this. All this fresh, spiteful energy, this need to do something useful, to help against the unjust world unfolding before her very eyes, it hit her with the worst adrenaline.

She needed to do something, anything, but what could she do? She was just Marinette now. She wasn't powerful, reliable, cunning Ladybug. She was weak, feeble, clumsy, stupid, worthless Marinette.

And like that, the fire died. Ladybug was left to wallow, to fade, while Marinette slumped into her seat, realizing how powerless she truly was.

"Fine."

They spent the new few minutes in a tense silence. Marinette couldn't summon the energy to prod at Gabriel, the cold hollow feeling in her stomach weighing her down. Her eyes blankly searched the streets, looking everywhere, but seeing nothing except her reflection in the window.

She didn't realize how pale she'd gotten, how much her hair had thinned, and how tiny and dull her eyes looked without a mask to frame them. It was like staring at a ghost, an intangible little thing that could not touch, could not affect the world she loved so dearly; all she'd be able to do is wallow and watch as life passed by.

Ladybug was a part of her, some could argue it was half of her, the strong half. Transforming had been like stripping herself of all her fears and doubts and niggling little neuroses. Without the earrings, without Tikki, what was left? The half of her that let everybody down, the half of her that let Ladybug get jumped by Monarch, the half of her that lied to Adrien.

I need to stop thinking like this, She chided herself, It doesn't matter what I can or can't do, I can't change that until I find Tikki. I have to work with what I've got. I've got to stay… Mostly positive.

By the time the food arrived, Marinette managed to calm herself down enough to rip herself out of her funk. Fortunately for her, the intense hunger of her stomach was enough to overpower any other thought. She lunged for her food like a woman possessed, swiping it off the plate and stuffing the first bite into her mouth in the most uncivilized manner possible.

"Finally, food."

She didn't miss the way Gabriel's features shuddered at the disgusting display, but she didn't care. The texture, the weight, the taste – oh god, she had taken for granted how important it was to eat something you could hold in your hand, that you could chew on. She may have been in stasis for those years of capture, but her mouth was as touch starved as if she had been awake all that time.

"Oh god…" She held her free hand over her mouth, eye alight with delight as she pushed the mixture of meat, cheese and lettuce down her throat. It was cheap, basic junk food, but as far as Marinette was concerned it was a five-star restaurant's special.

Gabriel stared at her, flabbergasted. "…Are you crying?"

"Shut up," She cried, not caring one iota that her mouth was full. "I'm hungry and this food is beautiful!"

Whilst Marinette gorged herself on her meal like it would be the last one she ever ate, she looked across the table to find Gabriel staring down at his with a pensive frown.

"Don't pull that face." She chided.

He pursed his lips, lazily glancing over to her. "What face?"

"You look like you're about to dissect a frog." She chuckled, "It's a burger, it's not gonna hurt you."

His gaze flickers to her and then back to the meal, cautiously poking at it with the end of his fork. "I'm just worried about how it will affect my diet."

Marinette snorted, "We're in the post-apocalypse, Hawky. Nobody is gonna care about you getting a slight gut."

"You don't know that." He shot back almost immediately.

Marinette stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?" She didn't know whether to laugh or cringe.

"I don't even know the nutritional value, or the ingredients." He rambled on, continuing to poke and prod at his burger with growing distain. "I could be allergic."

"You don't have any allergies." Marinette stated point blank, waving her half-eaten burger at him. "I know you're used to prime steak imported all the way from the other side of the world, but this is what you're getting."

"I'm not against burgers." He said surprisingly quietly, "My mother used to run a fast-food place. Back whe-"

He stopped cold, eyes stuck in some far off place while his brain caught up to the little bit of information he let slip, the little bit of humanity his ego obviously didn't like acknowledging. Marinette didn't press on it, she didn't care about whatever backstory her arch nemesis had cooking, but she couldn't help but note it all the same.

"It's just… A matter of habit." He continued, shuffling in his seat and averting his gaze. "A public figure is always scrutinized. That's what Audrey taught me."

A moment later his stomach growled and he was forced to let out a sigh of defeat, rounding on his burger with cutlery in hand and-

Marinette reeled back in disgust. "Nope. No. Don't you dare."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, "How American of you."

She slapped his hand down, "Eating a burger with a knife and fork is a sin against nature, everybody knows this."

And this man had the nerve to pretend he had any class.

"Excuse me if I try to keep some level of decorum." He spat back, compromising by just cutting the burger in half and taking the pieces in hand.

"Are you this picky over Adrien's diet?" Marinette stopped herself to shake her head, "Oh, who am I kidding? Of course you are."

Again, Gabriel gave that pursed lips look, an almost innocently confused expression. "What's wrong with wanting to keep my son healthy?"

"Healthy is making sure he eats all his greens." Marinette slipped a strip of lettuce out of her burger and nibbled on it. "Not whatever starving diet you probably force him on to keep that model figure."

She heard him mutter some sort of comeback, but he clearly wasn't confident enough in his rebuke to raise the volume, leaving the two to return to their awkward dinner. She watched him take the first bite of his burger, resisting the urge to laugh at how expressive his eyes suddenly became. So expressive that she could tell the precise moment he tasted every layer of the meal.

Okay, I'm starting to think he really hasn't had a burger before.

"I saw the statue."

His words were sudden, knocking Marinette back into her chair. She was confused by them, but her gut picked up on what he was saying long before her brain.

"Huh?" She asked.

"When we were by the park." He stated simply, regarding her with a harsh, scolding gaze. "I saw what remained of my statue."

Marinette's throat went dry, "Ah. That."

"Care to explain?"

She placed her burger down, allowing her fingers to intertwine in a tight grip that strangled her nerves. "I may have told Paris, and Adrien, a teeny little lie…"

Gabriel stared at her in silence for a moment, first waiting for her to continue, then walking back through what lie she could possibly tell; and then his jaw dropped. "…You didn't."

His hand came up to rub his temples, watching Marinette grin sheepishly. "How do they think I died?"

She coughed her answer into her hand, so muffled and quiet that Gabriel almost missed it, but his ears were on high alert today. "Heroically sacrificing your life to give me the opening I needed to beat Monarch."

Reaching out with his hands, Gabriel made stiff choking motions backed by his throat belting out some raw rasps. Finally, his voice cracked. "What part of 'Make sure Adrien remembers the times I tried to be a good father' made you think I needed a statue and a cover story!?"

He sighed, slapping his right hand over his forehead. "I just wanted you to remind him of the good times, not hide the truth from him." He muttered, more to himself than Marinette.

A familiar, more comfortable fire was stoked again. It bubbled up, adding a heated edge to her voice. "I'm sorry, I wasn't exactly in the best position to make decisions after the entire fabric of reality got rewritten." She said matter-of-factly, "On the bright side, it seems like the secret came out eventually."

"You lied to my son."

"Of course I lied to him!" She hissed, not caring about the one or two odd stares she was getting from other customers. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"All I asked-"

The fire evolved into a blazing flame, the relief of venomous words, of getting into a conversation she felt little conflict having with him. She wasn't going to let Gabriel, of all people, lecture her again, and certainly not on this, not on the son he failed.

"You asked me to do the impossible." She laughed bitterly, gesturing to the akumatized horizon. "News Flash, Mr. Supervillain, there were no times you tried to be a good father."

She fled from Adrien, from Alya, from all her friends who asked her for the uncomfortable truth. When she faced them, she was afraid, so afraid of what would happen if their image of her shattered, if she lost them.

But not Gabriel. No, telling the truth to Gabriel, to an absolute scumbag who'd never be able to make her feel ashamed, she suddenly felt more confidence in her actions than ever.

"Yes, I lied. Yes, I made something up. You know why?" She leaned forward as if to whisper a secret, spitting out "Because you put me on the spot with nothing to work with."

Another bitter laugh came naturally to her as she drew her finger out to smack him across the nose. "You are a complete disaster. You're never there for Adrien, you never make him feel wanted, you never support him, everything you ever did for him was for you."

Her hand came back to clasp her forehead, massaging the brain until the headache that was Gabriel Agreste left her system. "You're the same man who doesn't even let his son invite people over for his birthday."

"A birthday is a private matter." Gabriel, after a minute of sitting in silence and taking her blows, said strictly. "I don't even celebrate mine."

Stupidity is not an excuse, is what she wanted to say, but instead she settled with snorting. "And let's not forget that one of the richest men in the world got Adrien a pen, a bloody pen, as a present." She swings her head around, casting her gaze out for the support of an imaginary audience. "That's one step below getting him a gift card."

"What's wrong with a pen?"

The worst part was how genuinely offended and confused Gabriel sounded in that moment. This was a serious, legitimate question for him, and that damn well nearly broke Marinette's brain.

"A good pen is a treasure." He continued, "They're reliable, multi-functional and are always useful. But they also break a lot, so you need a regular supply."

She had no idea how to explain the obvious any more simply, so instead wiped her hand over her face in a huff. Idly, she added, "He seemed to enjoy my scarf a lot more, just saying..."

Gabriel had the gall to continue looking dumbfounded, "...Why would you get him a scarf? He already has a scarf."

"Oh my kwa-" There was suddenly a great temptation to reach across the table and throttle him. "What did your dad get you for your birthdays?"

"Rocks." He said, almost like he was proud of that factoid, "We couldn't really afford much else with how much my father gave away."

Marinette struggled to get her voice past her throat for the next few seconds, staring at Gabriel like he'd grown a second head. "...You're fricking kidding me."

Gabriel shook his head and, for the first time, held a fond, nostalgic look. "They were grade-a rocks though, not just some dirty pebbles you take from street corner." He remarked softly, "You could do so much with a few good rocks!"

All Marinette could do was beg for reason.

"…What planet are you from?"

Gabriel shrugged, "A more respectable one than yours, I'm sure."

Marinette could only come to one conclusion.

"You are a sad, sad little man." She said, not even aggressively, just empty. "And you don't have my pity."

She trailed off at the end as, looking over Gabriel's shoulder, she suddenly found herself meeting another person's gaze. A gaze that belonged to someone with a familiar head of dark hair.

The temptation to tell Gabriel about it was on the tip of her tongue. Then she asked herself why she'd tell Gabriel anything.

Instead, she slid out of her seat and pushed past Gabriel, letting him sit there thinking she was just trying to escape their conversation. "Excuse me for a minute…"

On her approach, the figure scrambled away, attempting to disappear into the sea of customers. However, Marinette's gaze remained vigilant, holding onto the brightly coloured strip of hair under is sank below deck.

She worked her way through the crowd, rushing down the stairs and forcing her way past the 'employees only' sign on the door she found there.

The door slammed shut behind her.

Before she could even get the layout of the room, she heard a metal click seconds before something cold, hard and very sharp pressed itself against the back of her neck.

"S-Stop right there!" The voice of a girl just around Marinette's age stuttered, "Who are you?"

The girl's grip on the knife was shaky, meaning Marinette could feel the edge nip at her skin every second or so. If she went any further, it would instantly rip Marinette apart.

It was enough to make Marinette's deep breath a ragged one full of sweat and fresh panic.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng." She stated, "The bakers' girl. Same girl who tripped over herself trying to ask out Adrien for years."

The knife didn't move back one inch. In fact, her answer seemed to make her attacker tighten their grip, solidified their glare into something Marinette could feel burning into the back of her head. She wasn't convinced, and Marinette' blasphemy only served to put her more on edge.

Marinette racked her brain for the next best response, for an example that she, and hopefully only she, would know. It took a good minute to find something she could latch onto.

Without fear, Marinette turned herself around, facing the knife, and it's holder dead on. "And the same girl who helped you clean this place up after you and Luka found out you couldn't handle your liquor."

The girl looked upon her fearfully, but made no move to stop Marinette when she reached up and pushed the knife aside. Marinette took the girl's hand, pulled her closer so that she could look into Marinette's eyes, into her heart, and see the truth.

"It can't be…" She protested weakly, "You're dead…"

The moment the knife clattered to the ground; Marinette's arms were around the girl. It made her heart weep, knowing how long it had been since she'd seen a friendly face.

Juleka's entire body went limp in Marinette's arms, landing her chin atop Marinette's head, crying into Marinette's hair.

"I missed you too."

---

Next Time - Meltdown:

Marinette stepped forward, only for Juleka to reel back in fear, as if she were afraid of being struck. They stood there for a moment, frozen in flashes of fear and surprise. Juleka turned away, Marinette catching a flicker of uncomfortable hesitation playing on Juleka's lips, struggling with a difficult question.

Juleka hugged herself tightly, her voice so quiet that Marinette could barely catch the words. "Were you... Were you working with him, before?"

It took a second for Marinette to realize what she was asking, before she was overtaken by an instinctive, disgusted gasp. "What?! No." She shook her head, the very idea of being Gabriel's partner in crime filling her throat with bile. "What would give you that idea?"

"It's just…" Juleka's shoulder shuddered, "It's nothing, I'm not in a good place right now."

Marinette retreated to her seat, unsure of trying to comfort Juleka physically again. Sat down, her eyes quickly found her hands lying in her lap, fingers tightly intertwined and pulling on one another. "I saw the bounty board."

Her voice wavered as she spoke, carrying a lack of confidence, as if her brain was still trying to wrap itself around the idea of anything on the board being the reality. "I'm sorry about Luka."