Aftermath - Ch 5: Reason to Live

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

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Chapter 5: Reason to Live

After their unplanned disaster sleepover, Marinette and Adrien fell strictly back into their routine. She came over six days a week, and stayed home for one. She didn’t risk any more late night visits, and he didn't ask her to stay. And he hadn’t mentioned her slowing down or stopping her visits again even though he could take care of the place and himself almost on his own now. 

He really didn’t need her. 

But as long as he didn’t send her away, she was going to keep coming. The guilt for taking advantage of his kindness, for making him put up with her usually only haunted her as she was falling asleep or while she wallowed pitifully during her seventh day of “rest”.

But every time the guilt became almost unbearable he would ask her to teach him something new.

First, it was laundry. She taught him all the basics of washing, folding, and ironing in an afternoon, though she insisted most people their age didn’t bother with ironing. Modern fabrics and detergents didn’t need it nearly as much, especially if you put things away right out of the dryer. Nino still came over to take care of the chores, but now, the three of them tended to do it together, which made the folding and stowing parts way faster, and more fun because neither one of them would stop cracking stupid jokes.

Adrien’s sense of humor was far too reminiscent of a certain cat.

She quashed that thought before it could sour her mood, instead trying to savor every bout of unrestrained laughter shared between them.

Then, Adrien suggested out of the blue that they go for a walk. 

“Like outside?” she asked.

Aftermath - Ch 4: Not Okay

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

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Chapter 4: Not Okay

Adrien was especially quiet today, but he was also out in the living room, which was usually a good sign.  Marinette wasn’t sure what this new combination meant. 

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Do you think you could give me some cooking lessons?” Adrien asked in response. 

Marinette blinked at him from across the tiny white table. “What do you want to learn to cook?” 

He laughed. “Anything! I don’t know how to do any of it. We had a professional chef my entire life. I’ve never so much as boiled water.”

“Are you sure you want to learn from me?” she asked, keeping her gaze on her own hands. “Alya is a better cook.” But that wasn’t her real objection. She wasn’t sure how much cooking she could still do, and she wasn’t keen on finding out what she was capable of with an audience even if that audience was as kind and patient as Adrien. Adrien was one of the few people in her life that seemed to forget that she was disabled now - she didn’t want to spoil that image he still seemed to have of her. 

“I was hoping if I learned how to make a few staples, Alya wouldn’t have to spend quite as much time preparing meals for me.”

Marinette made herself smile. “Okay. Let’s make a list of some simple things, and then text Nino all the ingredients we need.”

Marinette relaxed as she learned exactly simple the things Adrien wanted to learn were. He apparently didn’t know how to make sandwiches, boil eggs, and how to cut cheese, of all things. 

“You don’t need me to teach you how to make a cheese plate,” she insisted.

“Nathalie paid a lot for some very small cheese plates at various events. Seems like some skill is involved.” 

Marinette giggled. “The skill is in picking out the cheese, and in presenting it in an artful way - not in cutting it so you can eat it for your own consumption.”

His green eyes narrowed in clear suspicion. “It can’t be that easy.” 

Aftermath - Ch 3: Turning Point

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

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Chapter 3: Turning Point

Marinette considered her face in the mirror. Her skin was pale and oily. She needed a shower, but she couldn’t manage that simple task. And the bags under her eyes were darker than ever. She couldn’t even sleep right despite spending twelve hours in bed.

“You can’t go every day.”

Marinette’s gaze shifted behind her reflection to her best friend who was combing her hair gently.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not okay,” Alya said and Marinette hated that she couldn’t argue. “And you’re trying to do too much.”

“It’s not like I’m doing anything worthwhile at home. At least at Adrien’s, I’m doing something.”

Alya didn’t meet her eyes, instead remaining focused on sectioning her dark hair into two halves. Marinette didn’t really want her hair in pigtails. It was too much a reminder of all things Ladybug. But she didn’t really have the energy to object either.

“You need to go to your therapy appointments at least,” Alya insisted.  

“Why? It doesn’t help. My hand isn’t going to heal. They’ve already said as much.”

“Occupational therapy is not  just about improving. It’s about learning how to use your hand as it is now.”

“I’m sure I’ll figure it out,” Marinette grumbled, though she had no intention of doing so. She had yet to even pick her stretching exercises back up and she didn’t see that changing.

“You don’t have to figure it out. That’s what your therapist is for.”

Marinette let out a deep sigh. “Look, Adrien needs me.”

Alya shook her head. “Adrien will be just fine for the 90 minutes a week it takes you to get there, have the session, and get back.”

Marinette didn’t bother to respond. She had nothing to say to that. Alya was right, but Marinette didn’t want to go.  

“He would want you to go,” Alya said, echoing her thoughts. “It would kill him to know you were neglecting yourself for his benefit.”

Marinette glanced at her purse hanging off her desk chair that still held the Ladybug earrings.

She wasn’t going to admit to Alya the real reason there was no point in going to her appointments. There wasn’t any point in relearning how to use her hand if she wasn’t going to stick around.

Aftermath: Ch 2 - Lifeline

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

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Content Warning: Suicidal Ideation, Severe Depression, Severe Anxiety, PTSD

Chapter 2 - Lifeline

“Marinette,” Tikki began in the same concerned tone she had every single time they were alone since her night on the Eiffel Tower. “You need to talk to someone.”

Marinette didn’t bother to respond. She turned away from the little red kwami. They had already had this conversation. Many times. Tikki might be right, but what was the point if Marinette couldn’t really talk about anything.

And even if she did decide that she could tell someone her secret, could anyone  truly understand?

They wouldn’t be able to help her, and then she’d be risking her friends and family by letting the secret potentially get out for no reason.

There was no point.

“This isn’t something that you can just will yourself out of, Marinette,” Tikki was saying. “You need help. And there’s no shame in that. You have been through so much and you still grieve so much. You’ve been so strong and so resilient. I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished as Ladybug and as Marinette.”

Marinette clamped her hands over her ears, trying to tune out the positive affirmations that only felt like sandpaper on her skin.

She knew Tikki was trying to help, but Marinette couldn’t stand the optimism, the determination to look for the silver linings or bright side in a situation. She couldn’t feel any of that, couldn’t believe any of that, even if she wanted to.

Not anymore.

But Tikki kept talking.

“Tikki!” Marinette finally snapped.

Bright blue eyes blinked at her in surprise. “Yes, Marinette?”

“I renounce you.”

Aftermath: Ch 1 - The Darkest Night

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

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Content Warning: Suicide Attempt

Chapter 1 - The Darkest Night

Little orange lights dotted the Parisian night skyline like candles, each one casting out a little aura of warmth onto the streets below. People walked through the lit up sidewalks and paths talking and laughing loudly without fear or worry.

The city had found its hope again.

But none of that relief or cheer reached Ladybug who sat atop the Eiffel Tower. Only cold permeated her form. Though she was only distantly aware as she sat staring blankly ahead, wondering exactly how everything had gone so horribly wrong.

They had won. Apparently, today was the three month anniversary of that victory, not that Marinette was keeping track of the days. She barely knew one hour from the next, let alone the days. But there had been a special feature in the Ladyblog and fireworks when the sun had set to shove it in her face that Hawkmoth had been unveiled and defeated exactly three months prior. She had recovered the butterfly and the peacock miraculous; the entire set, minus the ladybug and black cat, was safe and sealed away in her bedroom closet. There were no more akumas.

It should have been cause for celebration.

All of Paris had, in fact, celebrated.

Except for Ladybug.

She couldn’t.