Chapter Text
Maman was gone again.
That was hardly anything new though; Audrey Bourgeois, the Style Queen, didn’t like being tied down, so she was often off traveling the world for months at a time. She always said that one day, when Chloé was a big girl, that maybe she’d let her come too.
Chloé couldn’t wait for that day to come. Yeah, it made her sad when Maman left, but she always came home.
It helped that her best friend Adrien lived in Paris, so Chloé was never totally alone. She’d miss him when she went globetrotting, but she was sure that he’d understand.
All Chloé had to do was be patient. Maman would come home eventually. For now, she decided to spend some time with Daddy, since he always got sad when Maman left. He tried to hide it, but she could still tell that he was sad, especially when he started drinking all that wine he hid in the cellar. Chloé wasn’t meant to know about it though, so she didn’t say anything.
Maman leaving made her sad too, so maybe they’d understand each other? It was definitely worth a try!
Putting away Mr. Cuddly, Chloé left her room and found the lift, taking it to the ground floor. There was a big fancy event happening at the hotel that night, so Daddy was making last-minute preparations and directing their staff around.
Surely he was there?
Looking around the crowded hotel lobby, she eventually spotted him talking to a short lady and the biggest man she’d ever seen… him or M. Gorille. It took a minute for Chloé to recognise them as M. Dupain and Mme. Cheng, Marinette’s Maman and Papa. They were probably making cakes for the party!
Running up to André, Chloé hugged his legs. “Hi, Daddy!”
“What’s my little princess doing downstairs?” said André Bourgeois, picking her up. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“M. Jean said I could stay up a little bit cuz I got my homework done early!” Chloé exclaimed.
“That’s my girl!” Daddy lauded. Turning back to the boulangers, he sheepishly said, “My apologies for the interruption. This is my daughter, Chloé.”
“We’ve met,” M. Dupain laughed congenially. “Our daughter and her are classmates, M. Bourgeois.”
“Mhmmm!” Chloé confirmed. “Marinette likes to play Knight and Princesses with me at recess. She lets me be the princess too!”
“That sounds like our Marinette. She’s always ready to play with other kids,” chuckled Mme. Cheng. “Maybe you should let Marinette be the princess next time.”
Chloé didn’t seem fully onboard with Mme. Cheng’s suggestion, but an idea came to her. “I know! Maybe we could both be the princesses!”
André smiled. “That’s a great idea, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you find Jean and ask him to make you a snack? I’m a little busy right now, but I’m almost finished here. When I’m done, we can watch some of that show you like, okay?”
Chloé beamed. “Kaykay, Daddy!”
Annoyingly, Jean was nowhere to be found! Wasn’t it, like, his job to help people? Frustrated, Chloé decided to stop looking for him and to go back to the foyer where she last saw André.
This time he was looking over the ballroom from a chair. There was an oddly distant look in André’s eyes, like he was tired and not paying very much attention to his surroundings, as he held onto his arm and leant his head against the back of his chair.
Chloé was walking over, fully intent on complaining that Jean was nowhere to be found, when André abruptly clutched his chest and collapsed out of the chair.
Chloé was by his side immediately. “Daddy! Wake up!”
Even though she shook him pretty hard, he wouldn’t move. His eyes were wide open, twitching wildly, but there wasn’t any sort of cognizance or coherence in them. It really scared her. There wasn’t anything she could do to help him. Trying to remember what Daddy told her to if someone was hurt, Chloé went to grab her dad’s phone from the counter, but her hands were shaking too much to even turn the phone on, let alone dial the emergency number.
He couldn’t be dead. She needed him too much. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye, not yet.
Tears falling from her face, Chloé vaguely registered a hand coming to rest on her shoulders as another took the phone from her hand. Too shocked and disorientated to do much else, she allowed the stranger to move her to the other side of the room. It took her a moment to recognise the person guiding her as Mme. Cheng.
Flinching away, she babbled, “I need to help Daddy. He’s-”
Mme. Cheng looked sad for a brief moment. “My husband is taking care of it for us,” she said calmly. “He’s calling an ambulance; the doctors will be able to help him.”
“But I hafta help him!” Chloé insisted. “He’s my daddy! I have to do something! I…” The poor girl crumpled, and Sabine kneeled down and caught her in her arms, letting her break down.
Eventually, two paramedics arrived at the scene, directed by Mme. Cheng to the room in question. M. Dupain was crouched over André’s body, attempting to perform CPR. The physical exertion was making his breathing shaky, but he sure as hell wasn’t giving up on André. Not yet, when he had a daughter to look after. When he saw that the paramedics had arrived, M. Dupain moved to one side, allowing them to take over.
The first paramedic continued the CPR, while the other crouched down, pressing two fingers to André’s neck. “I’m not feeling a pulse,” she said, looking at M. Dupain. “How long has he been unconscious for?”
“I’m not sure,” replied M. Dupain. “Is he going to be okay?”
The other paramedic glanced over at Chloé, before shaking her head minutely. “The brain can’t survive without oxygen for more than three minutes, and it's been a lot longer than that. If you haven’t been able to restart his heart with CPR… it’s probably too late. Even if we were able to restart his heart, the damage to his brain would be too extensive.”
Dupain looked down, his heart rendered in twain. “So, there’s nothing you can do?”
“I’m so sorry, monsieur,” said the first paramedic, shaking his head. “Time of death: 6:53 P.M..”
Chloé watched from the doorway, too shocked to even speak.
Daddy was dead.
And there was nothing she could do.
After announcing André’s time of death, the paramedics made quick work of moving André’s body out of the hotel to a mortuary, where it - where he - would be kept until his funeral. They had the respect to cover him with a sheet so Chloé couldn’t see, not that it was much reassurance to a girl who had just lost her father.
As they were about to leave, one of the paramedics approached Tom and Sabine. “Were you close with M. Bourgeois?”
“Not really… he and his daughter ordered from our bakery now and then, but-”
That caught the paramedics’ attention. “He has a daughter? How old?”
“She’s the same age as our daughter,” Sabine piped up softly, “only eight.”
“Shit…” the paramedic murmured. “Is her mother not home?”
“André and Chloé’s mother are divorced,” Tom explained. “Last I heard, she was in New York.”
The paramedic looked crestfallen. “I’m going to have to call a social worker on her behalf. If they can’t get into contact with her mother…”
“… she’s going to go into foster care,” concluded Sabine, her face horrified. “That’s awful! The poor girl lost her father, and now she may very well have nobody to go to…”
The paramedic looked conflicted. “Trust me from personal experience - the foster system isn’t pretty, but she’ll get by. They just got a big funding boost, last I heard, but it’s still not fun for any parties involved-”
“Would we be able to foster her?” asked Sabine.
The woman sighed. “It’s usually a long process, but you two would probably be able to get an emergency license, given what happened today. You said your daughter was one of her classmates, right?” Tom nodded, and she continued, “That could work, at least for the time being. The system tries to place children within their community when it’s possible: relatives, teachers, family friends, that sort of thing. It’s something to think about.”
“Thank you for all your help, madame.”
“It’s not a problem. I really ought to get going though. Give Mlle. Bourgeois my condolences.”
With that, the ambulance drove away, leaving Tom and Sabine with a lot to talk about.
There was one thing they both knew for sure though.
They weren’t going to leave Chloé all alone. If they could help the girl, they would.