Chapter Text
“No, no, no… Marinette, wake up…”
Marinette slowly opens her eyes, vision blurred, to see a man with blonde hair crying uncontrollably, hands hovering over her heavily beat up body. She jolts up, frantically looking around, not knowing where she is.
“Marinette!” The blonde says, taking a sigh of relief at her conscious state.
Marinette takes the man in, his arms and legs having bruises, scratches, and shallow gashes, similar to her own. She notes a small scar running through his eyebrow, looking like it was gained more recently. Her eyes flicker to two people of similar age, one a woman and one a man, dressed in fox and turtle attire. The woman, her hair in a high ponytail and a skintight fox-themed bodysuit, had a stoic expression decorating her face, silent tears streaming down her face. The man next to her, a green hood pulled over his head and a turtle shell shield on his back, was gripping her hand with one hand with his free hand covering his mouth. The fox-woman and turtle-guy both had scratches scattered across their faces, the states of their arms and legs covered by the bodysuits.
“Who… Who are you?” Marinette says hesitantly, still taking in the strange, beat up state of the strangers in front of her.
“It’s me, Adrien, don’t you remember me?” The man, Adrien, says.
Marinette squints her eyes slightly, her eyes focusing less on the injuries covering him and more on his face, his attractive green eyes and model-like features.
“Adrien… Agreste? Like the model?” Marinette says, wondering when the Adrien Agreste learned her name, let alone knew her well enough to be crying over her aching body.
“Yes! I mean- yes, I’m Adrien Agreste, your boyfriend,” Adrien says, staring her dead in the eye, not showing any signs of being untruthful.
But still, Marinette shook her head, scrounging around her memory looking for the slightest memory of meeting the model. “That’s not possible, I’ve never met you in my life,” she says, decisively.
“No, no, no… Marinette please you have to at least remember me a little…” tears begin to well up in his eyes, his voice beginning to crack as his emotions get stronger. He buries his face in his hands as he cries harder, sobs muffled by his large palms. “Please…” he whimpers.
A gentle hand lands on his shoulder, covered in a black cloth that Marinette surprisingly couldn’t figure out the origin of.
“Adrien, she renounced being guardian… that means that her memories…” the fox-woman says before choking on a sob, finally breaking her stoicism. Her hand lifts off of Adrien’s shoulder, moving to cover her face. A pair of green, armored arms pull her into turtle-guy as she cries, his presence bringing her comfort as she turns to cry into him.
Suddenly, Adrien whips his head around to face the fox-woman. “You knew,” he accused, something that looked like hurt flashing over his face. “Alya, don’t deny that you knew.”
The woman, who Marinette now denotes in her head as Alya, bows her head slightly, staring at her feet.
“Oh, Alya…” turtle-guy whispers, worry crossing his face.
“Come on, Alya, Marinette had to have told you a way to get her memories back!” Marinette can hear the desperation leaking through his voice.
“I’m sorry, ok! There’s no way to reverse it, it’s the price of guardianship,” Alya cries, ripping herself out of turtle-guy’s grip and stomping over to Adrien. “Look, I’m as upset about this as anyone, but you have no right to make this my fault. She was my best friend, Adrien. Do you really think that if there was a way to fix this, I wouldn’t already be looking for it?!”
Adrien bows his head in shame, “I’m sorry, Alya, it’s just- I need to get her back.”
Alya places both of her hands on his shoulders, gripping them tightly. “And we will. But for now, we need to deal with Chrysalis and, more importantly, help Marinette. Look at her, Adrien, she doesn’t know where she is, or who any of us are. We need to help her now and worry about her remembering us later.”
The two turn back to Marinette, a sweet smile crossing over Alya’s face. “Let’s rest,” Alya says, the fox attire disappearing and turning into a simple orange flannel top and blue jeans.
“Alright,” Alya says, crouching down to be eye level with Marinette, who is just now realizing she’s been sitting sprawled on the ground throughout this entire conversation, “my name is Alya, and I am your best friend, though you don’t remember it,”
~0o0~
Marinette fiddles with the zipper on her suitcase as she stands outside the Paris airport. She looks up at the group of people she barely knew, yet insisted upon wishing her a goodbye.
Alya hugs her tightly, being one of the only people from her past life that she’s continued contact with, pressing a kiss onto her cheek. “I’ll miss you, girl,” Alya says, smiling at Marinette.
“I’ll miss you too, but you and me both know this is for the best,” Marinette’s voice drops to a whisper, “and between you and me I won’t miss all of these people acting like I know them, especially Adrien.”
Alya’s smile softens, eyes flicking to Adrien, who stands sadly in the back. “You know he means well,” Alya says, though she’s not denying Marinette’s statement. “Besides, this was hard on him too.”
“I know, I know,” Marinette says with a sigh. “I just wish he understood that it’s hard on me too.”
Alya punches Marinette softly in the arm before pulling her into another tight hug. “Have the best time in New York,” she says into Marinette’s ear.
Alya releases Marinette and steps back, letting Adrien take her place, but instead of pulling Marinette into a hug he just stands in front of her, playing with his hands anxiously.
“I’m happy for you, Marinette,” he says, his eyes still softening with affection as he looks into hers.
“Thank you, Adrien, and I’m sorry we could never work out,” Marinette says, giving him an awkward half smile.
“There’s no need to apologize. I couldn’t understand that you are a different person now. Well, you’re the same person- but you’re different. You don’t have the memories I have of us and that’s ok.”
Marinette simply nods, making Adrien’s shoulders slump a nearly imperceptible amount, but not to Marinette, who, despite barely knowing him, can notice any change in his body language from muscle memory alone. That was always the hardest part of not loving him, the fact that it’s so obvious that she used to.
“Goodbye, Adrien,” Marinette says before turning into the airport, walking into the next chapter of her life.