Chapter Text
Silver claws swiped forward, breaking the water’s edge as the gleaming fish swam near the surface. Claws hooked into scales, flipping the creature up and out of the water as the rest of them scattered. Another clawed hand snagged the fish out of the air, icy blue eyes watching humorously as it struggled in his grasp.
Chat Blanc let out a purr as he hooked the fish to his belt, pleased with the meal he had caught. It became easier each time, using crumbs and the remains of the last fish to lure more to the surface. And something about fishing, about hunting , felt so natural– and he couldn’t help but preen as he drew out his staff, vaulting across the watery ruins of Paris.
Once the sight had filled him with a bitter sorrow, a pain that had refused to relent. For months he had suffered in this abyss, in this silence, with no escape from the destruction he had created with his own hand. Some days he had shouted and screamed, others he had sobbed and begged, but nothing could change the reality he lived in. He had thought there was no escape, the days blurring, to the point where he was singing just to pretend the echoes belonged to someone else.
And then an angel had graced him with her presence, the one he had thought he had lost returning to his arms.
He used cars and drifting debris as a bridge across Paris, his baton propelling makeshift boats forward. His heart soared at the thought of her, and his eyes locked on the building in the distance. It was one of the few with any part of it above the water, and though it was minimal compared to the one he had collapsed in his burst of anger, but it was enough for who it held– which to him was the entire world.
He leapt up onto the roof of the old hotel, staring out at the empty landscape, a smile flickering onto his face, before climbing down through the roof entrance.
“Princess,” he purred as he slinked down the hallway, but he heard no reply. His heartbeat picked up at this, and he had to fight the akuma within him to keep his anger and fear from spiking. He knew that she had been quiet these last few days, and she most certainly wasn’t gone.
She had tried running twice, and he didn’t understand why– there was nowhere and no one else to go to. He had moved her to somewhere safer though, and she didn’t have the same agility as him to reach the roof (he had Cataclysm-ed the stairs as a precaution). So far this building had proved to be secure, even with most of its levels sunken under water, but he knew they couldn’t stay here forever.
Soon Paris would run out of salvageable resources for them, and they would need to move on. He didn’t know where they would go or what they would find, but as long as he was by Marinette’s side he could protect her.
“Princess,” he said softly again as he reached the room she had been staying in, nudging the door open. Again, he heard no reply, but he did hear her sharp intake of breath as he slunk into the room. “I brought you some food. I just need to cook it up for you, I know you must be hungry, you haven’t eaten at all today.”
He could vaguely remember what it was like to be hungry. His akuma empowered him in many ways, including having no need for food. He was more than happy to prepare some for his Lady, and he slipped the fish he had caught into a cooler near the door. He hummed to himself, wishing that Marinette would say something back to him– but her being here was enough.
With the fish now safely tucked away he turned his focus towards Marinette. With no electricity the room was dim, but thanks to light streaming in from the window he could see her form quite easily curled up on the bed. Even if it was dark he would still be able to see her with his night vision, which was wonderful. Marinette was here once more, and nothing could keep them apart again.
He strolled up to the bed she laid on, not paying heed to the way she tensed nor the way her heart rate jumped. His ears flicked as he studied her, the way she struggled to keep her ragged breathes smooth and even– Marinette was pretending to be asleep. The sight was so adorable that he couldn’t help but let out another purr, crawling across the hotel bed as he moved closer towards her, wrapping his arms around her.
“I know you’re awake,” he told Marinette, and she let out a small gasp. “I can hear your heart,” his claws hands fell across right where it laid in her chest. “You’re awake, and you’re alive– isn’t that wonderful?”
Her heart still thundered loudly as she tensed, taking in a sharp breath. The scent of salt tickled his nose as he pulled her closer, her back to his chest. She was angry, and she was crying. Chat let out a sigh, but chose to ignore it, burying his nose into her hair, taking in her wonderful scent instead. He thought he would never have this again– but she was right here.
“You’re still upset about the earrings, aren’t you?” He finally asked, and for the first time that day he finally heard her wonderful voice.
“Yes,” she choked out, voice full of bitterness as she struggled against a sob.
He sighed, but it would only be a matter of time before her anger faded. She would forgive him eventually– she always did, after all. He didn’t want to wait, in fact the akuma in him seemed to be urging his anger to spark, but he always managed to calm it down. He had waited alone for months just to see her once again, he could wait just a bit longer for things to become perfect between them.
“I’m sorry,” he told her with complete sincerity. She did love being Ladybug, and he had taken that from her.
But he had no other choice– with the Ladybug earrings there was a means to rid him from the clarity he had gained as Chat Blanc, and her restoration powers could bring back everything... including him.
He let out a growl without thinking, and instantly she tensed in his arms. His guilt tugged at him as he realized her fear was sparking, and he ran his fingers through her hair in hopes of calming her. She had kept trying to put it up in pigtails these last few days, and in the end he had to Cataclysm her hair ties to keep it down. He preferred her hair down– it reminded him of better times.
“It’s better this way,” he told her for what felt like the millionth time. “You showed me that, remember? A wish had it’s price, a risk– and now we don’t have to worry about that.”
He had been so focused on gaining her Miraculous when she had first showed up, and he was sure it was the akuma in him. The last lingering orders of... that man. Of course his mind had set its sights on the wish to restore what had been done, and he had nearly succeeded. His fight with his Lady had been a long one, and it was sheer luck (strange, that it had been granted to him instead of her) that he had been able to claim one of the earrings from her.
Taking the other had been simple once her powers had dispersed.
She had been crying as he had done so, begging for him to stop, calling out for Bunnyx. It was somewhere in his frazzled mind that he had realized she must have been from another time, which made sense. Where else would she have come from? He had admitted that his isolation had driven his mind to its limits, but with his Lady back it had become clearer with every minute, including the realization of what asking for a wish would entail– which she had fervently reminded him as he had put the earrings into his own ears, her last attempt to stop him.
And she had been right, what was the point of making a wish to restore this world when her Miraculous Ladybug could do just that? A wish that would come with a devastating price? It was a power beyond their control... and did he really need the whole world back? A world of danger and selfish people? A world where he had been controlled like a puppet? A world with... that man?
Why did he need the world back when his entire world was in front of him?
Her cry had been painful when he had Cataclysm-ed her earrings, and watching the last fragment of hope in her eyes shatter was terrible. She didn’t seem to understand that everything was going to be okay, that she would be safe with him. She still didn’t understand that, but he would be patient.
“You took Tikki,” Marinette hissed, snapping him from his thoughts. A scowl twitched on his face, a part of him twisting with frustration as she mentioned someone else, someone that did not matter when it came to them– but he released it with a laugh.
“Kwamis don’t die, m’lady,” he said, humming as he played with her hair. “It simply removed the dangers of her powers from this realm, that’s all.”
“Your powers are the dangerous ones,” she spat back.
“Hmm,” he said, but had no reply, because her words were true. His powers were dangerous, as he had used them to attack her– twice. But one had been when Hawk Moth had been whispering in his ear, and the other was when his insanity had a strong hold on him. Now all was well, and his abilities were to be used to protect her now, as they had always been. “When do you want to eat?”
“I’m not hungry, Chat,” she replied, and his heart fluttered as she said his name.
“You haven’t eaten all day.”
“I’m still not hungry.”
“That’s okay, but you still need to eat. I’ll cook you your dinner in a few minutes, but I just want to lay like this for a little longer,” he pulled her closer, snuggling against her.
His words were a lie– he wanted to be like this forever. But unlike him she needed the food, and it was his job to watch over her. He wished that she would just melt into his embrace like she had before all this had happened, but instead she tried to move away. He just wrapped his arms around her tighter, waiting until she settled down.
To her their time together had never happened, which was painful, but she was still his same Marinette. He had debated telling her who had once been under the mask, knowing that was who this Mari carried feelings for, but it felt wrong to use that name. Just as wrong as when she called him Chat Noir– because he wasn’t either of them anymore. He was Chat Blanc, a blank slate for his new start– with no responsibilities save for the care of this wonderful woman in front of him.
Though a part of him still melted when she did call him Chat Noir– for it was the only name that had ever been his that hadn’t been given to him by that man.
He prefered not to think about that.
“Leave me alone,” Marinette spat, and this time he couldn’t keep the anger of his akuma back. His grip on her tightened, and he flipped her over so they were facing each other. Her beautiful blue eyes mirrored his with rage, each glowering at the other, but he could see her resolve withering under his slitted glare.
“Marinette,” he said slowly, hands tightly gripping her shoulders. “My love,” his words might have seemed kind if he wasn’t speaking with a hiss. “I don’t think you want to ask that of me. After all, I know plenty of being alone, and I can promise you it is a fate I would never inflict upon you. However, you saying such leaves the impression that you want to leave me alone– again. Would you really do that to your Kitty, My Lady?”
His akuma told him to whisper threats, but even with the anger roaring through him he tucked them away. His Lady was to protect after all, and if something were to happen he knew he wouldn’t get another second chance to protect her.
“Ch-chat–” she stuttered out, and instantly everything softened– his grip, his expression, his anger. His purr rumbled out from his throat as he pulled her back into his embrace, holding her tightly against him. She was here, he wasn’t alone anymore– she was here.
“I love you,” he whispered to her. “I love you so much.”
His eyes snapped open in surprise as he felt her returning his embrace, her fingers running through his white hair. He took in a sharp breath, holding her just a bit closer, and she sighed against him.
“I know you do, Chaton, I know,” she told him softly, all anger gone, and he felt tears stinging his eyes. This wasn’t the first time she had shown him a softness in these last few days since he had destroyed her Miraculous, but still it swept him away every time. And he was sure it wouldn’t be long until this was the only side of her he saw.
“I love you, Marinette,” he told her again, because he was sure she didn’t understand. “I don’t want to lose you again.”
“You’re the most important person in my life,” she replied gently– as this Marinette from the past would never utter the words ‘love’ to him. “And it hurts so much to know I have lost you.”
“I’m right here.” Why couldn’t she see that? That Noir was just a shadow to the brilliance he was now?
She pulled back, blue eyes staring into each other. Hers were deep, like the ocean– while his were like ice, shattered. He hungrily took in every feature of her face, as if he would forget it if he were to look away. His breath hitched as she ran a hand down the side of his face. It wasn’t affection, as there was only concern in her eyes, but he would take whatever he could get.
“You are there,” she finally concluded. “Deep down I know you’re in there, Chat Noir.”
Perhaps Noir was, but that didn’t matter as long as he stayed hidden away.
He could kiss her right then and there, but he knew that wouldn’t be right. Such a bold step in affection would be too far for the Marinette that didn’t remember their time together. He would have to take the steps to get there slowly, and while the thought of her not remembering hurt, he was excited to go down that path with her once more. He instead settled for a soft kiss on the check, and he purred when she didn’t pull away.
“Do you want some food, love?” He asked.
“...If we can eat outside,” she said after a moment. “I don’t want to be in this room for another minute.”
He beamed. “Of course, just let me get your dinner ready, then we can go up on the roof.”
He didn’t want to move away from her, but still he rolled off of the bed, making his way to the cooler where the fish was waiting. Perhaps when they left Paris he could offer her more than seafood and whatever cans of food he found floating in the water outside. Maybe they could find somewhere where the ground still stood and was covered in lush plants– they could make a garden! Marinette had always loved her potted plants on her balcony!
But for now they would have their dinner on the rooftop, and this time he wouldn’t be alone– for he had his Lady.