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Marinette didn’t need Klarion’s help, no matter how hard he tried to convince her otherwise. She had a team behind her, and they may not be the miraculous team, as Klarion took great pleasure in pointing out, but they could still help, would still help, with miraculous matters. Not that she even needed them or planned to bother them with this. It would be an easy mission. It wasn’t even a mission, really. It was more like an excursion, a jaunty little stroll through the ruins of a sacred temple currently being temporarily inhabited by low level thieves.
As long as she got the stolen miraculous quickly, it would be easy. In and out. The thieves wouldn’t even know they’d been infiltrated before she was gone with the miraculous. By all accounts… well, Klarion’s account, they were such low-level thieves, they barely warranted the name, though she seriously doubted she and he had the same threshold for the term. They wouldn’t know to have a decent guard up and couldn’t defend themselves if they did. They didn’t even know what they had; they’d just lucked into stealing the right thing in the right place at the right time.
But again, that relied on Klarion telling the truth, which was a losing bet. Klarion didn’t always lie. If it was to his advantage, he would use the truth. But if there was a choice between lying and telling the truth, all else being equal, he would definitely choose to lie. Ideally, she’d be able to take a day to investigate and plan, verify Klarion’s info, or not, and plan accordingly.
However, if the thieves figured out what they had before she could recover the miraculous, things would get exponentially worse the longer they waited. She’d seen how bad things could get when someone who shouldn’t have a miraculous got it, even those who weren’t raging megalomaniacs bent on rewriting the very fabric of reality. She wasn’t about to risk it again. Not if she could just jump in quickly and stop it. So she had to take Klarion’s word at face value and hope she had good enough backup to cover her if she was wrong.
A loud groan reverberated through the entry way to Young Justice headquarters as the realization set in. She slammed the door behind her. She was going to have to jump in and create a plan on the fly, the very thing she’d been unsuccessfully begging her teammates to stop doing since she started. It always worked out for them, and to be fair, that had been her approach throughout almost her entire time fighting against Shadow Moth, but when she could plan, she did. Now it was her choice, her mission, and she was choosing the seat of your pants strategy as well. The irony was not appreciated.
The only thing she had time to plan was who would go with her, well… no, that wasn’t exactly true. The choice wasn’t so much who she got to ask so much as if she was going to ask, because the who was decided for her already. The whole team wasn’t needed for Young Justice’s latest mission so two of them had stayed home. While Kon wouldn’t be her first choice, he would be perfect to watch her back. Because while he may not trust her, she trusted him. And maybe while they were doing it, he would realize that she was competent, that she was a good hero too, just as good as the rest of the team.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, she knew that with absolute certainty. When they weren’t on a mission, they got along frighteningly well. Well enough that she occasionally thought it might be more, or maybe it was just that she hoped that’s what his smiles and casual touches meant. She loved spending time with him and they did, a lot.
And it wasn’t just her prompting them spending time together. He’d seek her out as often as she sought him out. He would drop down next to her while she was designing and just hang out as she worked or he’d invite her to a gaming competition against him or he’d ask her to show him how to bake something she’d mentioned liking. Despite Tim being like the big brother she never wanted, well, she had wanted one, just a less annoying one; it was Kon who could talk her through her anxiety spirals. Everyone would try, with varying degrees of success, but it was Kon who succeeded.
It was just in the field that he shut her down, held her back, watched over her like a disappointed mentor, questioned her every move. And she couldn’t even blame it on distrust of new team members because he hadn’t started like that. When she’d first joined, he’d been excited to work with her. It wasn’t until she messed up that he started doubting her. She’d rushed in, Tim had followed her, and they’d both gotten hurt. They’d recovered the item, thwarted the villains, but Tim had been in the infirmary for weeks. And that was the ultimate transgression for Kon; anything that hurt Tim.
But right at the current moment in time, she needed him. She needed him to put that all behind them and have a little faith. She needed to go and there was no way Kon would let her go on her own. He wouldn’t let her down. He wouldn’t like it, he would question every decision, he’d probably try to take over, but he wouldn’t say no.
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“No.”
Marinette blinked at him. “What?”
“No,” Kon repeated with a curt shake of his head. “That’s crazy.”
Marinette stared at him dumbfounded. The possibility of him saying no had honestly never occurred to her. They’d done more dangerous things in the past, with less information, and he hadn’t questioned it. But this? This he questioned? This he found issue with? He’d blindly follow after Tim or Bart or Cassie, but not inconvenience himself for her? This wasn’t even half as crazy as most of Tim’s plans, if you could even call them that. And they always marched right in, no looking back. No questions. “I kind of thought crazy was our business,” Marinette clipped back.
Kon narrowed his eyes at her. “Cute. Funny. I’ll let Bart know you’re stealing his lines. We,” he motioned harshly between the two of them, “don’t do crazy. We do smart. We do planned. We do strategy.”
Marinette stared at him again. The massive inaccuracy of the statement stealing her words and ability to process thoughts. She finally shook her head to restart her thoughts again and glowered at him. “When? When have we ever done that. I beg you guys for a plan, but you just jump in. I follow. I help. Despite not agreeing with it, I do it. Now that I want jump in, you say no?”
“It is not worth the risk. We never go in without a plan unless we have no other option,” he insisted firmly.
Marinette scoffed. “Right. Unless you want to piss off Lex, or unless you want to prove a point, or unless Tim has some stupid idea, or unless one of you guys gets bored,” she growled, her voice getting louder and more aggravated with each word. “Then you’re more than willing to go along.”
“’Willing’ is pretty fucking generous,” he grunted. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his puffed-out chest, easing into leader mode and making it perfectly clear he was not inviting argument on this.
“It really isn’t,” she argued, narrowing her eyes right back at him. “Regardless, you do it. You do whatever Tim asks. Without a plan.”
He groaned; his arms thrown out and head tossed back in frustration. “Okay, fine. No, we don’t always have a plan, but we always have the team, which we don’t have now until they get back.”
“You and Tim go out on your own all the time!” she shouted indignantly.
“That’s not… that’s… that’s different,” he sputtered. He realized he’d said the wrong thing instantly when her heart rate plummeted. He didn’t even have to look at her expression to know what he was going to see and he scrambled to find the words to fix it, to wipe that hurt look off her face. “Tim and I have been… it’s complicated,” he huffed harshly and glared at the wall, consciously forcing his eyes not to switch to laser vision.
He waited to speak until he was calm enough to not have to focus on accidentally blowing holes in things. This was all going wrong, and he needed to get it back on track. “But that has nothing to do with this,” he finally continued calmly. “This is about this mission. Not you.” He turned his eyes to her, hoping his heartfelt sincerity shone through his eyes. “You’re relying on information from Klarion. Klarion! Any time Klarion is involved, we need caution. You know that. We need to ask questions. Like why isn’t he getting it himself? Why didn’t he get one of his lackeys to get it? He didn’t come to you purely out of the goodness of his heart.”
She looked away to allow herself to calm down to Kon’s level, taking several deep breaths and holding them for a few seconds until her heart rate had slowed. If he was going to give her a chance to discuss this rationally, she was going to take it. It was the only way she was going to get him on her side, and she really did need someone on her side. He wasn’t wrong about Klarion, which was the entire reason she was here asking him for help in the first place.
When she looked back, her eyes had lost their hardness. “I know this could be dangerous and it would be better to plan. I know I can’t trust Klarion. I’m not stupid, Kon, no matter what you think of me.” He made a noise, but she continued before he could vocalize his agreement. “I’ve thought through those questions too. He can’t get it because they’re holed up on holy land, land that blocks him and his powers. And he didn’t use one of his lackeys because he doesn’t want them to try to use the power. He knows I won’t. I know he isn’t doing it because he wants me to have it, he just doesn’t want them to have it more, and he thinks he can easily take it from me. But, he’s wrong.
“But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Because he’s right. I need to do it. I don’t have time to wait. If I don’t act now, I run the risk, the very strong risk, that they could unleash the miraculous. If that happens…” her eyes grew wide and haunted contemplating the possibilities, remembering history. She shook her head and looked back at him. “I can’t wait. I have to go now.”
She took a step closer until she was close enough he could have felt her body heat even without his enhanced senses. Her eyes were wide and earnest, their brilliant blue drawing him in. “But you’re right, it would be better with someone watching my back, someone I can trust. That’s why I came to you. It would be better with you. I need you. I want to do this with you. There’s nobody I trust more. And I need you to trust me that I need to move now.”
Kon almost gave in, almost got lost in her eyes. Her words struck through him, melting his resolve until it had almost disappeared. But he wouldn’t let it. He couldn’t. “No.”
“No…” Marinette repeated cautiously, her voice tight, teetering on the brink of something.
“No. We need more information before we do something,” he insisted again. “Or just not do anything at all. We don’t have to do anything,” he offered, his voice raising in hopeful tones.
She pursed her lips and slammed a cool façade in place. “You’re right. We…” she motioned between them as she took a purposeful step back, establishing a visible distance between them, “… don’t need to do anything. You don’t need to do anything. This isn’t your problem. It’s mine.”
Kon flinched at the tone of her voice. The previously soft, enticing tones were gone, replaced with a sharp, coldness with which he was completely unfamiliar. Worse were her eyes. Where they’d drawn him in mere moments before, they now shut him out, left out in the cold… alone. “Mari, that isn’t…” he let out a long groan and ran his hand through his hair a few times in quick, erratic movements. “That’s not what I meant. I meant we don’t have to act now. We can wait until we have more information. We can wait for the rest of the team.”
“Right.” She nodded curtly but her eyes never softened. Kon tried to search them, tried to find his way back in, but she turned away before he could, moving with steady, determined steps toward her room.
“Mari…” he called weakly after her, desperation edging into his voice. He reached for her, despite her being too far away reach. “Just let me check when the team will be back, and we can reassess.”
“Do whatever you want, Superboy,” she snapped over her shoulder.
The detached, cold epithet stung. She hadn’t called him ‘Superboy’ outside of the field since shortly after they first met. His hand dropped and a deep sigh broke through when she turned the corner. “Damn it,” he swore, kicking the wall in frustration, immediately cringing at the hole he put through the brick wall. Tim was going to kill him. Although if Marinette didn’t forgive him for his hesitance, he might just invite Tim’s wrath.
He refused to back off though. He wasn’t wrong. Dealings with Klarion never ended well. They always had to be on heightened alert when Klarion was involved. That went doubly so since Marinette had joined the team. Klarion had a disturbingly intense interest in her as another magic user. And now he was seeking her out for secret missions, a fact which disturbed Kon on more levels and to a greater depth than he cared to examine.
They needed more information and more people before they even thought about engaging with Klarion. If he moved fast enough, he might just be able to get everything ready by the time the rest of the team got back, and Marinette calmed down. However, he was going to disable all the vehicles before that just in case Marinette decided to go ahead without him, which was the absolute last thing he wanted to happen.
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At the very least, she could state with all sincerity that she had been right about everything. Klarion had not lied, for once. The thieves were utterly unprepared for someone to come for their haul. They had set up no defenses other than a guard dog who was easily distracted and loved playing with kwami, while they napped in a separate part of the temple. She’d met purse snatchers who were better prepared. They never even knew she had been there before she was out. It was a quick in and out.
It was after the out part that proved she had also been absolutely correct that she could not trust Klarion. He’d waited until she passed through the boundaries of the temple to attack. That had been her miscalculation, not that he would attack, that she’d anticipated, it’s why the ‘Marinette’ that exited the temple appeared to be wearing the Ladybug miraculous, not the Horse, Fox, and Turtle miraculous the real Marinette wore.
No, the miscalculation was that without the real her there to deflect the magical energy pulse, the only place for it to go was straight through ‘her’ and into the walls of the temple, behind which she had taken refuge so she could watch from an, apparently not so safe, distance.
The scream of frustration Klarion let out at the realization he had been tricked had almost made her current situation worth it… almost. Because her current situation was underneath potentially a few tons of rubble with only the green glow of her shelter providing light and protection, and without her glasses which had been blown off her face and currently were somewhere in the rubble.
She looked around again, gently prodding the boundaries of the shelter to see where the vulnerabilities were and how difficult it would be to move them by hand. The answer was damned hard. Without a view to the outside, she had no way of knowing how many meters of rubble was above her. It could be just a thin layer with dust covering the spaces to make it look thicker, or it could be several meters. It couldn’t be too many meters, there wasn’t enough wall to bury her too deeply, but the walls were heavy stone, and she was very small and easily crushed. Even with the miraculous suit protecting her, she could still be flattened if there was too much. It wasn’t a risk she relished taking.
She looked around one more time before whimpering and pushing her bottom lip out in a childish pout. She was going to need to ask for help. It was one of the last things she wanted to do; admit that this mission she’d refused help on had defeated her, that she couldn’t do this simple task on her own, that she needed help. But the truth was, she did. She would just have to withstand the embarrassment. They’d tease her, especially Tim, for a few weeks, but it was that or specifically ask Kon for his help… again. And that was the absolute last thing she wanted to do, other than die.
She took a breath and let it out in a harsh exhale before tapping her com. “Young Justice, come in.” She waited a few minutes before trying again with the same results. She wasn’t concerned until she’d pulled out the com and saw the distinct lack of a power light on the internal portion. Ice flooded her veins. The com was broken. She had no way to contact her team.
She took a breath, held it for a count of four and let it out slowly. She needed to think. She couldn’t dig herself out without bringing down the shield and without knowing what was above her, that was a no go. She couldn’t send the kwami out for help without knowing if Klarion was still around. She couldn’t very well just start screaming for help either. The thieves might not be competent, but that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous. With her weakened, she would be at their mercy.
She was running out of options. In fact, with Jon too young to take on Klarion and Clark off world, she only had one. One extremely undesirable option; Kon. It was going to prove everything he thought about her correct, and maybe it was, maybe she was as incompetent as he thought, because she shouldn’t be in this situation. She should have foreseen it and avoided it. She should be better than this.
She lowered her eyes until she closed them and braced herself for the disappointed look and the reproachful lecture. “Kon,” she said weakly but clearly. “Kon, I need your help.” She eased onto the ground, bringing her knees up to her chest as she waited. The time ticked away, how much, she wasn’t sure, but the way her butt was now aching, it must have been a while, long enough for Kon to have gotten to her.
She scrunched her brow. “Kon?” she tried again, significantly louder this time. Something wasn’t right. She shouldn’t need to be louder. She’d seen him hear someone further away and deeper than she could have possibly been. “Kon, I need you… please,” she added weakly, but just as loudly, concern starting to edge into her tone.
This time, as the moments ticked away, she paid far closer attention. Every shift in the stone matrix around her drew her attention with a snap of her head until her neck was strained from the movements. He still wasn’t answering. He still wasn’t there. He could hear her in his sleep. Where was he! He was supposed to be her friend. At the very least, they were teammates! Where was he?
Was he really so angry with her, he was willing to just let her sit here, alone, buried alive. Until she what? Apologized? Begged? Quit? She didn’t know. What she did know was fuck that. “Kon!” she yelled. “Kon, get your super annoying ass here now. I’m running out of air asshole.”
She glared at the roof of her protective bubble waiting for his cocky, self-satisfied smile to appear with some asinine comment about her needing him. She huffed in frustration and dropped to the floor of her bubble, arms crossed over her chest, every muscle in her body strained until they were ready to snap at the first sign of a super fucker.
But again, the time ticked away with no sign of salvation. By the time her butt started to hurt again, her anger had dissipated replaced by dejection. He wasn’t coming. It didn’t make sense. Kon wasn’t vindictive like that. He could want her dead and still wouldn’t just let her suffocate. Something else had to be going on but it was getting harder to think clearly, figure out why. She was starting to get panicked and lightheaded, an absolutely terrible combination.
“Kon,” she tried again, more earnest, pleading. “I need you right now and I need you to hurry up. I’m running out of air, Kon. I’m out of time. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. Please.”
Tears started flowing down her cheeks. He wasn’t coming. It was the first time he’d let her down. The first time she had needed him, and he wasn’t by her side. She always thought he would be. It never occurred to her that he might not be. In every eventuality, in every possible future she saw, he’d always been there, one way or another. But he wasn’t.
She swallowed thickly and wiped away her tears. It was up to her. She was going to have to save herself. It wasn’t the first time. It wouldn’t be the last. She breathed in for a count of four and exhaled for a count of five, immediately calming after her familiar routine. Her only hope now was that the rubble ceiling wasn’t too thick, and that it would have found some kind of equilibrium so when she lowered the shield it wouldn’t immediately fall on her.
She went through her breathing routine again and nodded to herself. It was time. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself before she called off the shelter. She kept her eyes scrunched for a few moments before opening one eye to look around her. A chuckle burst from her, but she immediately covered her mouth. She was okay. The matrix had held. The first part was done. Now she just needed to dig out without brining the matrix down on herself in the process.
The sound of another voice almost made her jump into the matrix roof. “Master,” Wayzz greeted her. “This seems like a less than optimal situation.”
Marinette grinned. “Wayzz! I’m so glad to see you. Can you phase through the top and tell me how thick the rubble is?”
“Of course, Master,” he agreed readily.
“Remember not to touch anything. Phase through,” she reminded him, anxiety bleeding through.
“Any modifications may cause the tentative equilibrium to shift and collapse,” he noted, nodding his head in understanding.
“Exactly! Thank you so much, Wayzz. I really…” before she could finish a creaking sounded on the other side of the matrix. Marinette turned warily toward the sound, each millisecond feeling like a century until time sped up to superspeed and the matrix collapsed faster than she could register. She barely had time to cover her head before she was covered.
She kept her eyes closed at first, trying to register any clues she could on her situation. What did the air taste like? Were there any sounds she could identify? Could she hear the outside? She tried to feel if there were areas of her body where the stones were heavier, but it was all heavy. It weighed her down, pinning her between the layers until she couldn’t move her legs or chest. Even her head was wedged stuck fast in its place. The only part that seemed to have some freedom was her left arm. The suit was keeping most of the weight at bay, but the pressure was slowly becoming overwhelming, driving all rational thought from her head. She was losing feeling in her chest. She had already lost feeling in her left leg.
She forced her eyes open despite every nerve in her body fighting for her to keep them clamped closed. It was as dark as she expected. She almost succumbed to her body’s urges and closed them again but just before they fluttered shut, she saw a pinhole of light. It wasn’t too far away, maybe a meter or a meter and a half. If she pushed hard enough, she might be able to reach it.
She shifted to reach for it and immediately let out a scream of pain as the matrix shifted again and a large rock slipped onto her arm. The light started to become fuzzy until she wasn’t sure if she had imagined the whole thing, everything took on a dreamlike, blurry quality. She couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She was going to die. Alone. “I, Marinette Dupain Cheng, pass guardians… pass guardiansh…ip t…” she murmured as she lost consciousness, missing the pinpoint of light bursting into bright sunlight.
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The light was blinding. Even with her eyes closed, it felt like everything was too bright. Going back to sleep seemed so much more appealing than enduring that damned light. But before she could drift back to the peaceful oblivion, a sound brought her back to the light; a voice, deep and enticing, drawing her to it, making the harsh light transform into an embracing and warm glow.
“I know you’re awake, I can hear the change in your heart rate. Can you open up those beautiful eyes for me… please?” the voice urged her gently. “I miss your eyes. You have the most enchanting eyes, I’m a bit lost without them to follow. Come on, Starlight, open them for me.” She knew that voice. She’d heard that voice before, a lot. But the voice didn’t sound right. This voice was tight and sharp. It should be lighter, more teasing. It should be playful not pained.
She had opened her eyes before she even registered the impulse, wincing from the light. Kon was looking up at her from a seat next to her bed, his grin widening with each passing moment until it was so wide and bright it almost made her have to close her eyes again. “There they are,” he cooed. He picked up her hand with a delicate reverence and gently ran his thumb over her knuckles bringing her hand close to her face as though the proximity comforted him. “Welcome back.”
She blinked a few times to clear her vision. “Kon?” she mumbled; her voice gruff with disuse. She had to be dreaming. Maybe she was dead. She looked around sloppily, her head dropping to the side. But she was in a hospital. She was pretty sure neither her Heaven nor Hell would take place in a hospital. So, she wasn’t dead… probably.
“Yeah, Starlight. I’m here. You’re safe,” he assured her, scooching closer to her so he could pull her hand to his lips without straining it, but redirected at the last moment to his chest.
She bobbed her head back to face him, letting her unsteady head fall back to her pillow. His words didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. When did he get there? When did she? “What are you doing here?” she uttered fuzzily.
“Is that any way to speak to your savior?” he joked, but the tension underlying it and his tightening grip on her hand betrayed his worry.
Marinette pulled her hand back and furrowed her brows as she shook her head slowly. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t what she remembered. She remembered trying to dig herself out from being buried alive. She remembered being alone. She remembered being abandoned. “No. You weren’t there. You left me.”
His eyes flashed with pain. “Mari…”
“No. I called you.,” she started slowly. She shook her head faster as the memories flooded back to her. “I called you and you didn't come. I was stuck under that rubble and you just… you weren’t there. I needed you and you weren’t there.”
The pain that had flashed in his eyes before returned and settled in like it had taken residence in them. He shook his head, moving closer to her again. “No, that’s not true! I was there. I was the one that found you and brought you home. I got there as quickly as I could.”
He bobbed his head down to catch her eyes, make sure she saw him, could see his sincerity, his regret. “I just couldn’t find you. There was some kind of barrier around you for a while. I couldn’t hear you, your voice, your heartbeat, nothing! Until finally the barrier fell or broke or something and I could finally hear you. It was like a revelation. I took off faster than I ever had before. I moved faster than I’d ever moved before.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and hooked his finger under her chin, urging her to look up at him and delicately wiped her tears away with his thumbs, letting his hands rest on her jaw, cupping her face. “I never abandoned you. I would never abandon you,” he vowed fiercely. “Mari, Starlight, you mean everything to me. I love you. I will never abandon you.”
She blinked, her brow pinching in confusion. “You don’t even like me.”
“What?” he exclaimed, dropping his hands in surprise. “What do you… why would you… What?”
“You… no, that’s not the right word. I can’t…” she motioned vaguely toward her head. “I know you like me.” She closed her eyes to focus on how to put what she was thinking into words, missing the way Kon relaxed slightly at her admission. “I know you like me… off of the field. But you don’t trust me. You don’t…” she huffed in frustration as she searched for the right word, “… think I’m a good hero. You don’t trust me to have your back.”
“That is categorically untrue!” he insisted indignantly.
She scoffed. “You never want me in the field. I screwed up once and Tim got hurt and since then, you haven’t trusted me on missions.”
“That is not what happened,” he groaned.
“It is,” she insisted. This was something she knew. This is something she’d thought about, brooded about, more nights than she cared to admit. “You don’t want me on missions. You watch me constantly in the field. And it’s not a matter of watching over your teammates, because you don’t do that with anyone else. Just me. It’s just me you don’t have any faith in.”
“I don’t do that!” he objected, not quite yelling, but close. He threw his hands out at her skeptically raised eyebrow. “Fine! Yes, I do. I try to keep you out of the field. I prefer it when you cover the coms from the base,” he admitted. He stood up and started to pace the room in an attempt to work out his energy some way other than smashing something or lasering through the wall.
Instead of appreciating his confirmation, the admission cut through her like a blunt spoon. His acknowledgement that he didn’t think she was skilled enough to be in the field, that she didn’t measure up in his eyes, hurt worse than the cave in.
“But it’s not because I have more faith in them than I do in you,” he continued without realizing her spiral. “It’s not because I trust them more. It’s not because I think they’re better. It’s because I’m not as worried about them.” He stalked back to Marinette’s side to continue but immediately stopped at seeing the devastated look in her eyes. “Not because I think they’re better!” he clarified quickly, louder than he meant to.
“I know you’re an amazing hero. Fuck, Marinette, I think you might be the best hero I’ve ever met. The best I haven’t met.” She scoffed and looked away petulantly, but Kon wouldn’t let her continue to think he didn’t realize how amazing she was.
He sat on the bed again and tried to crane his neck to catch her eye. When she refused to look over, he kept his neck craned in the ridiculously uncomfortable position and continued speaking in a soft voice. “You’re wrong you know.” That got her attention. She flicked her eyes over to him, but kept her face turned away. “It wasn’t because Tim got hurt. It was because you did.” That finally got her to face back to him and he could finally settle his head into a more comfortable position.
“Because the idea of you getting hurt terrifies me in a way I’ve never felt before. I watch you because I second guess every move, mine and everyone else’s, to see how it will affect you. I’m not just watching what’s going on around me and calculating for myself, I’m doing it for you too. I don’t think I realized until that very moment how I felt about you.”
He caressed her jaw, his fingers feather light against her skin, each touch like worshipful. “I always want you out of the field because I’m afraid of what I would do if anything happened to you. Because Tim is my best friend. He’s like a brother. But, if Tim miscalculated and got hurt, I’d be worried, I’d be frantic until he was okay. And if he wasn’t, I’d be devastated.” He cradled her head in his hands, letting his thumbs tenderly graze her cheeks. “But if you got hurt… I’d destroy the world. Not even kryptonite would be able to stop me.”
“Kon…” she started, unsure how to respond to that. Her eyes softened as they searched his, finding only awed reverence.
“I love you, Marinette. I have since, God, I don’t even know how long. I don’t even know when it happened, I just realized one day that the best part of my day was when you were there with me. That I couldn’t stop thinking about you and every time I did, I’d smile like a damned fool and I didn’t care, I wanted to. That making you laugh had somehow become my subconscious goal whenever I saw you.
“I realized whenever you were sad or upset or hurt, it hurt me too and I would do whatever I had to in order to keep you safe, take every blow, handle every loss, face every evil if it meant you didn’t have to. So, I tried to keep you safe, out of the danger zone, but I never meant to make you feel like I didn’t trust you. I just… I needed you to be safe.”
She placed one hand on his wrist, keeping his hand on her cheek, with the other she gently brushed his bangs from his face, letting her fingers linger and fall ever so slowly, tracing the edges of his face until she wound it behind his head and pulled him closer to her. Her eyes fluttered closed, attempting to keep the tears from overflowing, as she brought his forehead to hers. A contented sigh escaped her lips when he leaned into the embrace. She reveled in the feeling for a few moments before opening her eyes and gazing adoringly into his. “That is… the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” she choked out through a half-suppressed sob.
Kon reared back like she’d punched him, but she kept her hold on his hand so he couldn’t go too far. “What?”
“I can handle most of the same hits you can take, and I’m not vulnerable to kryptonite,” she pointed out wryly. She pulled gently on his wrist to pull him back to her side and cupped his face with a gentle smile. “You can’t wrap me in bubble wrap, Kon. I’ll suffocate.”
He blinked a few times as he processed her words and tone, finally relaxing into her hand. “What if I poke holes in it?” he asked with a tentatively teasing smirk.
Marinette grinned back for just a moment before quickly schooling her expression. “No. There’s no way to make bubble wrap flattering.”
“Uh huh, uh huh. I see,” he nodded in mock solemnity and stroked his nonexistent beard. “Yes, we can’t have the world’s next leading name in fashion looking unflattering.”
“Exactly!” She met his eyes, allowing herself to get lost in them for a few moments before forcing herself to look away. Her eyes darted back to his for just a moment but settled on her hand as she traced his hand, turning it over in hers to run her fingers over his and enjoying the softer texture of his fingers. “I had my shield up,” she threw out. Her eyes darted to him again so quickly her eyes were back on their intertwined hands before her mouth had closed.
Kon jerked slightly at the non sequitur, mind racing to make sense of her words. Emotionally? She had her emotional shields up? Did that mean she was taking them down for him? Did that mean she shared his feelings? “What?”
“Shelter,” she clarified. “That’s why you couldn’t hear me. I called on Shelter as soon as I got there. My own personal little impenetrable, mobile fortress.”
He opened his mouth but snapped it shut. Every time she spoke, she made less sense. “Why did you call it off? You were safe!”
She chuckled at his gaping mouth. “I was safe from the rubble, but I was suffocating. I was so safe, I was dying from the inside,” she gave him a pointed look.
“Yeah, but instead you almost died from the outside!” he exclaimed.
“But I didn’t, because I let the shield down,” she pointed out with a slight smirk.
He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at her. “I don’t like this analogy.”
“Good. Then it worked.” Her grin was blinding and contagious. Kon couldn’t stop himself from returning it no matter how hard he tried to keep his scowl. She smiled wider at his lost battle. After a few moments, her brow settled into a scowl. “What I don’t like is someone trying to make decisions for me. Someone letting their fears dictate my actions.”
Kon’s smile slowly dropped at her words turning grim. He nodded in understanding, eyes lowered in contrition. “You’re right. I fucked up. It wasn’t my place. I shouldn’t have…” he sighed heavily. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re strong and powerful and talented. I didn’t mean to try to control you. I don’t think I realized what I was doing.”
His voice sounded so heavy and broken, her heart ached. Her hand was on his face, her thumb tracing his lower lip before she realized it had moved. “But what I do like,” she whispered, “is you.”
His eyes jumped to hers, hope peeking through and lighting them up. “Yeah?”
She nodded with a soft smile. “Yeah,” she whispered.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved closer to her. He paused for a moment, centimeters from her lips to give her a chance to object. Instead, she wrapped her hand behind his neck to pull him to her, letting their lips finally touch in a soft, chaste kiss. He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his lips stretching into a wide, dazzling smile to match hers. The kiss was short, but perfect. It was a beginning, the start to many, many more.
“I’d hope so. I’d hate to think you do that with people you don’t like,” he teased, breath hot against her lips.
Marinette rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, but her lips quirked up into a playful smirk. “You should see what I do with the people I love.”
Kon’s eyes lost their devilish glint suddenly becoming uncharacteristically serious. “I would very much like to see that one day,” he declared.
Marinette’s breath caught in her chest. She searched his eyes for any hint of teasing. Finding none, she licked her lips slowly. “How about a sneak peek?” she asked before pulling him down for another, longer, more passionate kiss.
She pulled away suddenly. “Kaalki!” she exclaimed. Her eyes widened in fear. “I left Kaalki in the ruins!”
She threw the blanket off and moved to get up, but Kon stopped her before she stood, his hand on her chest to hold her in place. “Woah, slow down there, Starlight. You just woke up.”
“I need to rescue Kaalki, Kon, and I need to get him before anyone else does!” she exclaimed, brushing his hand to the side.
He sighed heavily but nodded. “Okay. But you take it easy and let me do the heavy lifting until you’re fully recovered, please?”
She paused and looked back at him questioningly, a small smile emerging on her lips. “You want to come with me?”
He smiled and shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course I do. I won’t let you down again." He kissed her quickly before extending his hand for her to take. "Come on, let’s go.”