15. Stupor

"Marinette…?"

Adrien couldn't believe what was happening. After a long and terrible lonely month, Marinette was finally in front of him, her eyes wide open, one hand reaching out to him with fingers lightly brushing his chest.

He knew he was dreaming, Ladybug had told him that but… how was it that he could feel her? If it was but a dream, how was it possible that she felt so warm against him and smelled so sweet, like cinnamon and fresh spring flowers?

How was it that she looked so radiant and…alive?

He lifted a hand to cup hers against his chest, a tingle running up his spine as he felt her soft, warm hand under his own. She felt so different from Ladybug. Although Ladybug had been kind and loving, she had always felt cold, like she wasn't really there… but Marinette. Marinette was in front of him, warm, and real, and glowing...

"Marinette…" Adrien repeated, his voice hitching as emotion built in his throat.

She stared at him, tilting her head slightly in bewilderment. She wriggled her fingers under his hand, moving her palm up across his chest as her other hand came to join it, feeling him like a curious child discovering something new.

However, she suddenly frowned and Adrien was taken aback.

"Who?" Marinette asked suddenly, her voice soft and tinkling but laced with concern, "Who… who are you?"

Adrien hesitated, perplexed by her peculiar response, "It's me… it's Adrien, Marinette."

"Adrien?"

If it was even possible, she looked even more confused, her eyes narrowing as she thought.

"I… I don't..." she started, her face contorting in worry. "Why can't I…?"

She looked frustrated, her hands moving across his shoulders and arms desperately, fingers feeling every inch of his skin. Although he was taken aback by her physical response, he didn't attempt to stop her wandering.

"Why can't you what?" Adrien pressed, bewildered by the concern starting to line her features. He was getting worried himself. He had begun to feel the familiar pull in the pit of his stomach and his eyelids, the pull that signaled that he was waking up and his dream was soon coming to an end.

Please, please wait, Adrien begged his body, Please let me stay a little longer!

"Why…" Marinette whispered to herself again, her eyes glistening with disappointment as her hands came to rest against his cheeks.

"Marinette, what… what is it…?" he slurred. The dreamscape was starting to sway around him, his eyes becoming heavier and harder to keep open. He was becoming dizzy, unsteady on his feet.

She looked up at him, but her eyes were not on him, looking past him, like she was trying to find something in the empty air, like she couldn't―

"Why can't I see you?"

―see.

Before his cold fear could even fully begin to form, he felt the ground give out from under him and his world went dark, Marinette fading into shadow.

"Adr...n…."

"Adri...en…"

"...Adrien?"

Adrien's consciousness stirred in the darkness, though it felt slow and muffling, like there was a thick veil enveloping his mind. The voice calling him was not Marinette's, but it beckoned insistently to him. He couldn't feel, or see, or smell, just hear. He just wanted to go back to sleep. He wanted to see her. He didn't want to wake yet and he tried to sink back into the nothingness again...

"Adrien…"

He heard the female voice calling him again. It was joined by an intermittent, slow beeping sound, echoing in the recesses of his mind. He was pulled back from the embrace of darkness and he started to feel something creeping up his arms and his chest, sensation starting to register.

"How long has he been off the morphine?" A male voice asked. It sounded familiar.

"Three hours," the woman answered.

"Give him time to wake, prepare everything for extubation, please."

"Yes, Dr. Longuevie."

Longuevie… where did he know that name from?

He began feeling a dull pressure in his head. His eyes felt heavy and his jaw was stiff. He felt something uncomfortable in his throat, and he swallowed, grimacing at the odd sensation and the bitter taste of copper in his mouth.

The discomfort seemed to grow, branching out to the rest of him. It kept growing and growing, quickly becoming painful. A dull throb spread throughout his body and he winced, a gruff moan escaping him, but it sounded muffled, like there was something in his mouth.

"Adrien? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?" he heard the man ask him.

Adrien tried to force his heavy lids to move, and his swollen eyes opened a crack. He blinked against the sudden bright light, squeezing his eyes shut again and groaning in protest at the pain it caused.

"Subdue the lights, please," he heard the doctor instruct someone. "Adrien, try again, the lights are off."

He did, and he found that the lighting was much more bearable. His surroundings were hazy, a muddled combination of muted colors. His sight was blurry, as if there was a thick, partially opaque film over his eyes.

He started to become aware of things around him, like the whirring sound of a ventilator on his right, and the beeping sound from several monitors on his left. He also became aware that he was lying on a bed, in a spacious room where the lights had been turned down.

Where was he?

A body moved into his line of vision on his left, a blurry mess of white and black.

"Adrien? If you can hear me, don't speak, just move your fingers, please." he spoke.

He obeyed, but found he couldn't move an inch of his left arm and when he tried, pain sparked in his nerves and he groaned in response.

"Use your right hand. Your left is immobilized."

He moved his right fingers, though he found his movements to be heavy and slow. His eyesight began to clear however, and his eyes focused on the doctor hovering at his side. He had frameless glasses covering his kind, brown eyes, and he sported a small dark mustache matching his perfectly combed black hair. Adrien definitely knew he had seen him somewhere.

"Thank you," the doctor said, seemingly writing something on his clipboard. "Now, can you understand everything I'm saying? Tap your index finger three times."

Adrien did as he was told.

"Good," the doctor said, his voice calm and relaxing. "You must be feeling extremely confused right now, but I promise that everything will be alright."

Confused was an understatement. And alright? Also debatable. Adrien had no idea where he was, why he couldn't move, why everything hurt, or who that man was. He knew he recognized him from somewhere, but his somnolent mind couldn't place him and all he wanted was to go back to sleep again.

"I'm Dr. Longuevie," the man continued, "I've been taking care of you. We've met before. I also look after your friend, Miss Marinette. Do you remember me? Blink once for yes, blink twice for no."

Oh. Oh. So that's who he was. He remembered him now. He had allowed Alya and him to see Marinette when she got out of surgery. He had saved her life. Adrien blinked once.

"Great. You're in the hospital. You suffered an accident with an Akuma. You've been sleeping for a long while," he explained slowly, at a pace Adrien could register, "We're just going to wait for the analgesics to finish leaving your system so we can get to work. Don't try to speak yet. You were intubated because you were having trouble breathing but you're alright now, so we're going to take it out, okay?"

Adrien hesitated for a few seconds but he blinked once. He didn't recall any accident, nor how he had gotten there, but he trusted the doctor and he still felt too tired to care. All in his mind was Marinette and all he wanted was to get whatever they were going to do to him done with so he could go dream and see her again.

The next few minutes passed by as hours to him. Everything moved in a blur around him and the pain across his body intensified with every passing minute. He found himself grimacing and squeezing his eyes closed against the waves of warm electricity traveling down the length of his body, wishing he were unconscious.

After involuntarily letting out a particularly loud whimper at one point, he was told that he would be put back on painkillers when they were done, but Adrien wished they would do it already. He could feel an incandescent sensation rolling in his stomach and spreading to his ―broken?―left arm, setting his nerves on fire.

With every passing second, the tube traveling all the way from his mouth and down his throat became more and more painful and he had to resist the urge to choke and gag, his eyes watering each time he shifted his head even an inch.

When they finished preparing, they carefully repositioned him on the bed, his body limp like a ragdoll. He felt too weak to move and he let the nurses move him themselves. He cooperated completely, eager to get the invasive tube out of his mouth and to be put on anything that would make the pain go away again.

Finally, they moved to remove the offending machine. It started slowly, mild, with them suctioning out saliva and other things from his mouth. He coughed and choked as they slowly pulled the thin tube out, his throat burning painfully as the plastic slid up his trachea.

After long grueling seconds, the tube was finally out and he coughed roughly, his throat on fire and saliva dripping down his chin. Sucking in air suddenly seemed more difficult, and he breathed heavily trying to get used to the feeling again.

They cleaned him up and repositioned his pillows, promptly putting an oxygen mask on his face. He accepted it willingly, and relaxed back on the bed, trying to get his breathing under control. Without the tube, he felt a heavy pressure on his chest and an unpleasant, sore emptiness in his throat.

"We'll give you a few minutes to settle. Your father is wanting to see how you're doing today. He's on his way right now," Dr. Longuevie told him, gently smoothing Adrien's hair back away from his forehead in a way that not even his own father had ever done. "I'm sure you'll be wanting to see your friends too. They're really worried about you, but we're going to take it easy today, okay?"

Adrien tried to nod but regretted it as the motion caused his throat to throb.

Dr. Longuevie chuckled sympathetically, "Easy. Just blink."

Adrien blinked once.

"Good," he said warmly, "You're very much like your friend, you know? An incredible fighter."

There was a curious glint in the doctor's eye, like he knew something interesting. A glint of familiarity, of a secret shared between them, but Adrien didn't know what it meant. It made him trust him, however, and made him willing to talk to him.

He wanted to ask him about Marinette, to ask how she was doing, but he didn't know how. He weakly moved his right arm, his fingers tapping the doctor's hand on his bedside. He looked pleadingly at him, hoping that he'd understand the meaning behind his gaze.

Thankfully, he seemed to get the message just fine.

"She's doing better. She's healing steadily and she'll be okay. Don't worry about her," he said with a pleasant smile. Adrien sighed in relief.

He still worried that Marinette couldn't see him in her dream, and that somehow it had to do with her physical body, but knowing she was okay brought him peace. Having the same doctor would definitely make things easier. Finally, a stroke of luck for him!

"I'm sure you'll be wanting to know just what happened to you," Dr. Longuevie said. "I'll tell you everything we know when you get your bearings back. But I'll say this: the fact you're still here Adrien, is nothing short of a miracle. You're one lucky boy."

If he could've done it, Adrien would've laughed heartily at his choice of words.

A miracle indeed.

Adrien moaned against his mask, riding out another wave of intense pain. They didn't want to put him under until his father had seen him and they merely gave him a mild sedative, but it did little to alleviate his pain. All it did was make him dizzy, and now he waited, fingers weakly clawing at the covers.

He wished he'd get there faster.

He was really not surprised at the amount of pain he felt after the doctor had explained just what was wrong with him. Never would he have imagined the amount of damage he had sustained for so long and the fact he had survived it by some grace of the heavens.

His left arm hadn't just been dislocated again. The pressure of Dragonfire's bite had actually cracked his forearm and they had to put it in a cast bound in a shoulder brace against his chest, and if he even tried to move an inch, he'd feel the sharp pinpricks of pain running through his arm and shoulder. He was told that he would probably need therapy for that but he didn't care. He just wanted it to stop stinging.

After several tests and endoscopies, they had found the lining of his stomach to be severely inflamed and bleeding which explained his excruciating stomach pains, why he couldn't keep food down, and why he kept vomiting blood.

His lungs had also suffered an acute infection, which, when coupled with the one on his burnt back, landed him with a terrible cough and fever that he was apparently just overcoming thanks to treatment. The rest of his organs seemed to still be functional but not working at full capacity, causing him to feel pain consistently without pause.

He was surprised his heart was even working, considering Dr. Longuevie told him he had suffered a massive heart attack that sent him into cardiac arrest the night he was admitted in the hospital. But apparently, much to the bafflement of his team, his heart and head were intact, despite having been pronounced dead for nearly half an hour.

All in all, Adrien was a walking wreck. (Or rather, would be if he could walk.)

He could only guess that all this damage had been one of the destructive aftermaths of Cataclysm. He couldn't explain how his heart and head were still alright, but he was not going to question his good fortune on those two very important aspects. He also wasn't going to question the fact he had somehow come back to life, despite the medical impossibility.

What he could question, though, is what was taking his father so long?

It's not that he didn't want to see him; it was just that tears had begun to form at the corners of his eyes from having to tolerate the torture. The pain was unrelenting, and he was itching to go back to sleep. He was tired of feeling pain, and he just wanted to see Marinette again! He had been so close…

He suddenly heard a knock on the door and it opened to reveal Dr. Longuevie. He came up to Adrien's bedside, smiling down at him as he checked one of the monitors connected to Adrien.

"Hey champ, how are you faring?" he asked.

Being unable to talk, Adrien huffed loudly instead, eyes looking pleadingly at the doctor as he fisted his hand on the covers to signal his intense discomfort. Dr. Longuevie sighed in response, looking sympathetically at him.

"I know, son, I know," he said gently, patting his uninjured arm reassuringly. "But you've been asleep for four long days. Your father is very worried about you."

Four days? He had been out for four days straight? Somehow it felt longer.

"Speaking of which, your father just arrived and he will be here shortly," the doctor continued. "We will put you under as soon as he sees how you're doing."

And just on cue, a nurse knocked lightly on the open door, addressing Dr. Longuevie.

"Doctor, Monsieur Agreste is here," she said softly.

"Ah, good, let him in. I just need to finish up with Adrien real quick," he said. The nurse nodded and signaled to someone beyond the threshold. Longuevie turned back to Adrien and talked low, "I will be changing your medication now, since it will take a bit to kick in. It will cut your time with your father but I think you've been awake long enough. So if you feel dizzy, don't worry about it. Don't fight it."

Adrien nodded, wishing he could thank him for his mercy. Longuevie seemed to get it regardless, smiling warmly as he changed the IV in Adrien's arm and gently rubbed the skin where the needle had pricked him.

Adrien gave a sigh of relief as he felt a slight burning sensation travelling up his veins, signaling the precious painkiller had begun to course his system. It had a nasty aftertaste of copper on his tongue but he didn't mind it as long as he was out of it.

A shifting sound caught Adrien's attention and he turned to the door. Gabriel slinked into Adrien's line of sight, his poise stiff and professional as he walked into the room. His eyes regarded Adrien impassively, his mouth pulled into a thin line.

Something like bitterness stirred within Adrien. Although initially Adrien had been glad his father had been so distant he couldn't suspect of Adrien's nightly activities, now he was just bothered by his bearing. Not even the near-death of his son could get rid of that cold detachment he always wore like a glove.

Adrien couldn't really say he was surprised, either. If he were to guess, Adrien predicted he would probably be his typical brand of fatherly and confine him to the mansion once he was out of the hospital. It was not something Adrien was looking forward to and it caused him to feel a cold emptiness in his stomach. It was back to square one for him.

Couldn't he just skip this and get knocked out to save him the grief? What could his father possibly have to tell him? And worried about him, was he? He was probably just worried his perfect model was now out of commission and unusable.

God, he missed his mother so much…

Gabriel came to rest at Adrien's bedside, but his inner turmoil had caused Adrien to look away, eyes glassy as he tried to hold both tears of pain and dejection back.

"Good evening, Monsieur Agreste," Dr. Longuevie greeted amicably. "Adrien is doing better today. The treatment is working and the lining in his stomach is healing. He can now breathe on his own but he still needs to be put on morphine to counter the pain. You may notice him getting sleepy but it's nothing to worry about."

"I'll keep it brief," Gabriel said levelly though Adrien knew Gabriel didn't appreciate being cut off. He turned to Adrien, but Adrien stubbornly kept his gaze diverted from him.

"Adrien…" Gabriel said softly.

Adrien cursed at himself. All those years of conditioning by his father made his body react automatically, and his face slowly turned to him.

As his eyes met Gabriel's, Adrien blinked in bafflement. He had expected anger, disappointment, even annoyance... He had not expected to see actual regret in Gabriel's face. His steely, blue eyes even shone with something Adrien had trouble believing were tears. And those rings under his eyes...

Had he been crying?

Gabriel's mouth kept opening and closing, like he couldn't decide what to tell him. He would steal glances at the doctor as if his presence was unwanted but couldn't bring himself to tell Adrien's caretaker anything. Longuevie, perceptive as he was however, was perfectly capable of reading Gabriel's body language.

"I'll leave you to it," Longuevie said softly, bowing his head and leaving the room, silently closing the door behind him.

A cold silence fell between the two. Adrien wished he would speak already, as he was already feeling his muscles begin to relax with the medication and his pain ebb away. Gabriel seemed to read his thoughts and cleared his throat.

"How a-are you feeling?" Gabriel asked somewhat awkwardly. He was trying to be kind, Adrien could tell, but his constant cold demeanor made that very difficult. Adrien didn't know how to reply either. He opened his mouth but no sound came out, and even attempting it caused him to cough roughly as it upset his sore throat.

"Ah, of course, I'm sorry…" Gabriel apologized, "I'm… I'm glad you're awake."

Adrien was not.

Gabriel hesitated and Adrien was taken aback. He had never seen his father lose his front even slightly. Angry? Yes. Furious? Of course. But awkward? You'd never catch Gabriel Agreste acting insecure around anyone. Not in a thousand years.

When his mother disappeared, he had vanished for days, and when he showed his face again, days later, he had come out changed. Colder. Unfeeling. He was never the same again.

Now, he was seeing signs of the old father he had known. Granted, even before, Gabriel hadn't exactly been the emotional type. That was mostly his mother, and his mother had been the only person able to bring out the best in Gabriel. His caring, human side.

The side that actually loved Adrien as a son and not as a company asset.

But when his mother left, so did Gabriel's heart.

"I… I'm sorry," Gabriel said again after a couple seconds of silence. "I'm sorry for… this."

Sorry for what? For not being there? Yeah probably, but Adrien had actually been grateful for it. Plus, Adrien was used to his absence. Nothing new.

"I wish… I could've stopped it," Gabriel continued in a low voice, "This wasn't meant to happen..."

Why was he talking like it was his fault? It's not like he sent the Akuma. That was Hawk Moth and to be fair, Adrien had purposefully sought the dragon out, too. He got himself into it. He knew it was a suicide mission and he was ready to accept the consequences.

"I'm so sorry for not protecting you," Gabriel continued, and even as his mind began to waver, Adrien could distinguish a slight tremor in his voice. "I should've been there for you."

Please, stop, Adrien begged in his mind. Something in Adrien's chest was constricting, and a lump had begun to form in his throat. It's not your fault, please stop.

"But I will make it right," Gabriel continued, and Adrien was surprised to find Gabriel's hand had reached out to hold his own. "It will be fine, Adrien. You will get better. You will be alright."

Adrien was shocked to see something thin and liquid trail down from Gabriel's eye.

Was he…? No, he couldn't possibly be…

A shaky breath left Gabriel. "Please, forgive me…"

And then it happened. Gabriel began to weep in front of him, silent tears trailing down both his cheeks as he bowed his head down in a poor attempt to hide it. Adrien was frozen in place. He had never seen his father cry. Ever. It was unnerving. It was depressing. And it was causing Adrien's heart to squeeze in guilt.

Why did he keep blaming himself? It wasn't his fault. He wished so hard he could tell him it wasn't his fault, that it was Adrien's. He'd been the stupid one to go picking a fight with a damn dragon! It was Adrien who had tricked his caretakers and nearly got himself murdered!

His father had nothing to do with it. He was always busy and Adrien got that, really, he did. He wished he'd be more present, more caring but Adrien understood...

Please, please stop blaming yourself…

Adrien's eyes burned as his own tears came, slipping down his cheeks and around the plastic of the mask pressed to his face. Gathering all the strength his broken body could muster, Adrien lifted his right arm and reached towards his father, fingers weakly trying to latch on to the lapel of Gabriel's suit.

Gabriel flinched, looking at Adrien's hand with confusion. He turned back to Adrien, eyes full of concern.

"Is it... hurting?" Gabriel asked, unsure on what Adrien's gesture meant, "Should I call the doctor?"

Adrien shook his head, mouthing something unintelligible.

"Son, I don't understand…" Gabriel insisted, perplexed by Adrien's fidgeting.

Adrien mouthed more slowly His consciousness kept wavering, but he didn't want to pass out until Gabriel understood what he wanted to say. The burning was turning intense in his veins, and he was having trouble coordinating his movements.

Gabriel leaned closer, trying to get his meaning.

"Dad..." Adrien rasped in too low a voice that it was almost imperceptible and Gabriel nearly missed it. "Don't…"

"Don't?" Gabriel repeated, "What do you mean? What is it, Adrien?"

Adrien's trembling fingers finally managed to hook to Gabriel's vest and he tugged weakly. Gabriel gasped as he was pulled down and Adrien's arm wrapped around him, pressing Gabriel to him and sinking face into the front of his tailored suit.

Adrien's soft sobbing reached Gabriel's ears, and he finally understood.

Don't blame yourself, dad…

With a lack of hesitation that surprised even himself, Gabriel returned the embrace, carefully lifting Adrien's torso from the bed and holding him close. One of his hands went to Adrien's head, gently holding his face against his shoulder.

A warmth Adrien hadn't felt in more than a decade suffused through him and he shuddered with emotion against Gabriel's shoulder, fingers digging into his father's back. Gabriel hesitated in response, his voice concerned when he asked Adrien if he wanted him to let go, but Adrien shook his head vehemently.

He didn't want Gabriel to let go. He didn't want to stop feeling the love he had been longing for for so long. For the first time, he felt warm and safe and loved in Gabriel's embrace, and Adrien didn't want to lose that. Adrien's own emotion seemed to seep into Gabriel as he felt him tremble slightly in the hug.

"I thought I'd lost you, too..." Gabriel whispered in Adrien's ear, his voice heavy. "Don't ever leave me like that again…"

It was a mixture of an order and a plea, and Adrien nodded, sniffling against the mask. He knew who he was talking about. Adrien had also been devastated by her departure, and now he understood. Adrien was all Gabriel had left of a family, his one tie to humanity, his last tie to his mother…

He felt like a child, and he was probably acting like one, putting his father's well-collected formality in jeopardy, but at this point he didn't care. And it seemed that Gabriel didn't either as he held him closer, stroking his hair like he once did when Adrien had been but a little boy, rocking him ever so slightly.

Adrien's hold began to weaken. Morphine was finally kicking in and his muscles were starting to go slack. Adrien kept himself conscious for as long as he could, revelling in the warmth of the elusive love his father had for him.

The love he had for a son, and not for a trophy.

Adrien's eyes began to close against his will and a sigh left his lips, his body relaxing as his consciousness began to fade. Gabriel held on to him the whole time, stroking Adrien's head until he completely passed out and his body went limp against him.

Stroking his hair one last time, Gabriel carefully laid Adrien back down, rearranging his head on the pillow and, in a rare demonstration of affection that Gabriel had only reserved for one other person, leaning down and brushing Adrien's forehead with his lips.

"I will make things right again," he said under his breath, "I promise..."

Though Gabriel's words were lost on the unconscious boy.

Adrien's eyes opened to a bright blue sky and a lush, green field. With a gasp of realization, Adrien jumped to his feet. He looked around him until he pinpointed the Eiffel Tower on the horizon. Blood thrumming in his veins, Adrien broke into a run.

It didn't take him long to reach the landmark, and as expected, the barrier was no longer there. He sprinted towards the center of the Tower, looking around for signs of Marinette. The wind blew gently, scattering petals and grass but it didn't matter how long he looked, Marinette was nowhere to be found.

"Marinette?" Adrien called, frowning in confusion. "Marinette!"

There was no response and he started to get worried. Surely, if he could dream up the Eiffel Tower from her dream, that meant she was still asleep and well, right? Surely, this wasn't a sign that there was something wrong?

He gasped when he felt something warm slink around his body. He looked down to see tendrils of light branching out from the ground and crawling around his limbs, covering him in bright, white light. With a yelp, he shook his arms, trying to shake off the weird, warm material sticking all over his skin, but it was to no avail.

As he tried to slap the strange material off him, he noticed the fingers on his now glowing right hand were clawed, and a silver ring had materialized in his ring finger. Frowning in curiosity he took a moment to look at himself. The material was not hurting him. In fact, he noticed with awe that the whiteness had covered his whole body like a suit and a silver bell had materialized where a gold one would be right in the middle of his collarbone.

A long, belted tail suddenly sprouted from his lower back, and he felt the warmth spread to his face and the top of his head as a white mask and matching feline ears materialized in their place.

He had transformed into his superhero alter ego, though his whole costume was white and silver instead of black and gold. But how? He hadn't say a thing, why had he transformed?

As if to answer his unspoken question, something caught his attention on the ground. The soil was sputtering and shifting, as if something was trying to come out. Adrien jumped back when something did pop out. It was thick and silver, and it started to protrude from the ground, rising up in front of him.

As it continued to move, Adrien noticed with a little gasp that it was his baton, extending up in front of him, glowing green paw glinting on the surface. It seemed to pause at the level of Adrien's eyes and he felt like it called to him, like it was trying to tell Adrien to do something.

Curious, Adrien reached out and grabbed the baton from the top. It lurched, and Adrien gasped as he was pulled upwards and he had to press his legs around the silver pole to avoid falling off. The pole continued to extend, up and up, and Adrien clung for dear life, legs wrapped tightly around the metal shaft.

He rose in the middle of the Eiffel Tower, past the many levels and viewing decks. Adrien had no idea what was going on. He just hung on, because although he knew it was a dream, he wasn't keen on finding out what would happen if he fell from that height in a dream.

Eventually though. the baton stopped moving on one of the highest decks of the tower. Frowning, Adrien looked around and he finally realized why the baton had taken him that high. In front of him, sitting and leaning back on one of the iron beams with her legs pulled up and hugging them to her chest with her arms, was Marinette.

She still had that beautiful pink dress on, her dark hair flowing smoothly with the wind and her sapphire eyes trained on the horizon, she looked calm and pensive, lost in her own thoughts and unaware that Adrien was even there.

His heart thumping in his chest, Adrien leapt off the pole and and rolled over the surface of the iron beam. His white costume faded into thin air as he rose to his feet and walked towards her, a hopeful smile pulling on his lips.

"Marinette?"

Marinette sighed for the tenth time that day since she had awakened on the grassy field. She had recalled the mysterious male voice she had heard earlier, when something like glass had shattered right in front of her. She didn't know why that had happened, or what it meant, but she had heard a familiar voice right after.

She was utterly perplexed. She could hear him perfectly and feel him, but he was invisible to her. He felt warm and soft, and he smelled so sweet. Those sensations had become so familiar to her as the days passed and she had been so excited to finally be able to meet him for real...

But why? Why couldn't she see him? She longed so badly to know who he was.

Adrien, he said was his name. It rang a bell but at the same time, it was foreign to her, like a word stuck on the tip of her tongue. He had asked her what was wrong, but when she was about to reply, he vanished. His voice, smell, and feel was gone. She called for him, over and over, but he had disappeared without a trace.

So now, she waited. She had floated up to her favorite spot on the Tower and waited, hoping that he would appear again, sighing wistfully into the breeze…

"Marinette…"

Marinette gasped as the echo of his voice broke her out of her stupor. She whipped her head around, looking for the source, but her eyes met empty air. She could tell he was very close to her, probably standing on the same iron beam as her.

"Adrien?" she ventured, slowly rising to her feet, eyes scanning every detail around her for a sign of him.

"I'm here, Marinette."

"Where?" she asked, raising her arms as if she were blind, walking slowly towards where she thought his voice was coming from.

"Right here."

She gasped again when she felt his invisible fingers meet her wandering hands. She could feel his fingertips pressed against her own, his touch warm and solid. She noticed that as it had happened many times in the past, whatever she touched would materialize around her fingers, like color spreading on a white canvas.

But it didn't seem to work on Adrien. When she touched him, she'd see a flash of white, but it would dissipate, as if the color refused to stick to the canvas that was Adrien. She longed so bad to see him, to meet the subject that kept appearing in her many dreams, in many shapes and forms. He had always been elusive, mysterious, but now it seemed he was the most real he had ever been. This time, he seemed self aware and responded to everything she said.

Was he really just a dream?

"I can't see you…" Marinette lamented, and she could feel her eyes begin to burn with tears.

She heard him make a sound like a dejected sigh, like he too had expected this time to be different. "It's...it's alright, Marinette. Don't worry about it."

"May I?" she asked cautiously, reaching out with her hand where she thought his chest was.

"Go ahead." he said.

She shyly pressed her hands to his chest, feeling the soft fabric of whatever he was wearing and the warmth radiating from his body. She could feel his rhythmic heartbeat, steady and strong, beating hard against his chest. It seemed so familiar but also unknown, and she had to resist the urge to press her ear against him to feel the constant thrum throughout her body.

She saw the slight sparks of white light up under her fingers. She wondered what color his clothes where. Maybe she could imagine them? She pictured his body in her mind. Judging by the muscles and shapes underneath her fingers, she knew he was tall and fit, and very lean. She tried to picture a navy blue shirt on him to start...

She gasped suddenly.

"What is it?" Adrien asked, concerned.

The whiteness around her fingers had turned navy blue just like she had imagined. Wait… Was it…? Could she…? She got an idea.

"Adrien, what color is your shirt?" she asked him suddenly.

"What…?"

"What color is your shirt? The one you wear? Describe it to me." she repeated.

"Well, I usually wear a black shirt with three colored stripes - yellow, green, and purple - and a white over shirt with the sleeves rolled up… why?"

Marinette grinned. The color under her fingers had changed to black! She could see his shirt and the stripes! Her wandering hands reached for his arms and she gasped again when she felt and saw a glimpse of the white overshirt he wore.

"What about your skin?" she asked, an excited lilt to her voice, "What color is it?"

"Um… fair I guess?" he answered dubiously, "Why? Whats going on?"

She didn't answer as a tinkling laugh escaped her. The skin she touched under her fingers had morphed from pure white to a light cream. Suddenly her disappointment seemed to ebb away with her new discovery. She could make this work! She could see him in this new way!

"What about the rest of your clothes?" she asked, making a mental map of his appearance.

"Blue jeans, black belt, orange converse." he said, "I still don't understand, though..."

"I can see you!" she explained with a smile "Well, not see you see you but I can imagine you! And I can see colors and feel things!"

She heard him give a sharp intake of breath.

"So you can see all of me now?" he asked, hopeful.

"Well, not all of you, just glimpses of it, depending on what I… touch.." her voice faded suddenly, her expression pensive.

Her hands had stopped on his collar bone, hesitating about reaching further up. Her fingers touched his chin lightly, shyly, afraid to overstep her boundaries. After all, she still didn't quite remember who he was, even though he felt so familiar...

"Do you mind if I...?" she asked respectfully, index finger lightly brushing his jaw.

"Please…" he said very softly, almost pleadingly.

She gasped when she felt something warm cover her fingers, realizing it was his hands reaching for her own.

"Let me help…" he said gently.

She felt him move her hands up to his face. She felt his chin, not very pointy but not very round either. She felt his soft cheeks, felt his tough cheekbones and his jaw, felt his ears... She could tell he was young. The creamy color of his skin would follow her every touch, blossoming like paint under her fingertips. She was memorizing every detail, painting a picture of his face in her mind.

"What color… is your hair?" she asked, almost breathlessly.

"Blonde."

He moved her hands up, allowing her fingers to thread through soft locks of golden hair, neatly combed on his head and parted in the middle in sweeping bangs.

"My eyebrows are slightly darker." he said, making her fingers trace the contour of his eyebrows. She saw the color pop up perfectly well, her fingers brushing the thin line . She then felt the bridge of his nose and then the tip. It was small and adorable, like a button nose, and she giggled.

"Why are you giggling?" he asked, curious.

"Your nose feels cute," she said, her cheeks going slightly pink. "Sorry this… must be awkward for you."

He laughed a beautiful laugh, "Not at all, I'm enjoying it! It's like meeting each other again. It's fun!"

"I knew you?" Marinette asked, "Did I know you in real life?"

"More than you know…"

Marinette didn't know how to feel about that. She couldn't seem to recall him properly, but the way he said it made such a pleasant warmth course her body. A deep rooted instinct threatened to take hold of her, and afraid of it, she turned her mind towards her hands again, eager to get distracted.

"What… what color…" she hesitated, her fingers lingering lightly on his eyelids. "What color are your eyes…?"

"Green…"

And they appeared, lighting up beside her fingertips. Beautiful, glowing green eyes like emeralds hit by a ray of sunlight, regarding her warmly, as if she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. There was such love and kindness in them and she felt her knees go weak. The hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end, her heart began beating hard in her chest, and her cheeks felt unbearably warm. A familiar feeling began taking hold of her. Something sudden and powerful...

Like a strike of thunder.

"Marinette? Are you okay?" he asked, worried at her sudden silence. "We can stop if you want, I don't… I don't want to make you uncomfortable…"

"No, no, it's not you!" she said, tripping over her words, "It's just… it's the first time this has… Sorry I don't know how to explain…" she trailed off.

"That's alright, we can leave it here." he said, and she felt him grab her hand and lower it from his eyes. She jumped when she felt something warm press against the back of her hand.

A kiss.

"As long as I can be with you, I'm happy, Marinette..."

Marinette wondered if it was possible to actually melt in a dream.

"So, this is good right?" Alya asked, her voice a mix of concern and hopefulness.

"She's very active and her brain activity has spiked," Dr. Longuevie said, a curious smile on his face as he reviewed the notes on Marinette's latest medical report, "So this is certainly good progress, yes."

"Oh, thank goodness," Sabine said, letting out a sigh of relief. A week had gone by and Marinette had not stopped moving on her bed. She wouldn't wake nor respond to her mother calling her, but she wouldn't stop fidgeting, her hands shifting in their bonds almost desperately.

She was most active in the nights, and her brain had registered increased activity during the early hours. It was the most curious thing.

"Does this mean she's waking up soon?" Alya asked.

"That's still not certain but she's definitely getting there." the doctor said.

"Hear that? You're almost there, girl. Don't give up," Alya whispered, squeezing Marinette's hand reassuringly. "We miss you so much..."

"We love you, sweetheart," Sabine added, tucking a loose strand of her now long, dark hair behind Marinette's ear. "We'll be waiting for you right here."

"Well, I'll be leaving you. I need to check on Adrien next door." Dr. Longuevie said, "He should be waking any minute now."

"Shouldn't you call Nino?" Sabine asked Alya, "It's the first time you'll be seeing him awake since the… accident?" Sabine hesitated at the last part.

"Oh, he's already there," Dr. Longuevie said with a sigh, rearranging his glasses, "He's been there for almost an hour. He's been very anxious to check up on Adrien."

"You're telling me. He's been going nuts all week. I should go too," Alya said, standing up from Marinette's bedside, "Just to be with him, you know?"

"Of course, go ahead," Sabine said with a smile.

"I'm sure that'll make Adrien happy. He'll surely want to catch up on several things." Dr. Longuevie said, looking pointedly at Alya. Alya cocked an eyebrow in curiosity but the doctor didn't elaborate and merely excused himself again with a smile before leaving the room.

"Well, that was weird." Alya said.

"Yes, he's waking up, just give him a few more minutes. He's been asleep for a long time and he'll probably be groggy and confused when he sees you, so just bear with him." he heard Longuevie say.

"Of course, thank you."

A door closed and Adrien heard shifting beside him.

Was that Nino? Adrien didn't know at what point he had stopped dreaming. He recalled he had spent some time with Marinette, just talking about everything and nothing. Things he could barely remember. And then his dreamscape had devolved into the dark void he would sometimes find himself in.

He had floated there for a while, annoyed that his time with Marinette had been cut short. Or so he thought. How long had he been dreaming? How many days had he been asleep since that day with his father? It seemed like forever but at the same time too short.

"Are you hungry?"

"I'm fine, thanks babe."

There they were again. Alya and Nino. Were they visiting him? It seemed it had been so long since he heard them last and his heart thrummed in affection. He had been so caught up in this Dragonfire mess and dealing with his illness that he hadn't realized how much he missed hanging out with them and being normal. Eager to see them, Adrien's eyes opened slowly, his surroundings blurry.

"You need to eat something, Nino." came Alya's voice.

"I'm fine, Alya, really…" Nino insisted. By the source of the voice, Adrien could tell he was sitting right beside him. He could also tell, by the roughness of his tone, that he was tired.

"You're trembling like a leaf."

"I'm just nervous. It's fine."

"You're so stubborn…"

"Pot… calling the kettle… black…? " Adrien rasped suddenly with a small smile, his voice low and rough from disuse.

"Adrien!" Alya and Nino gasped at the same time. Adrien turned to them, tired green eyes falling on their hazy outlines. He flashed them a weak grin now that his mask was gone, replaced by a thin tube lodged in his nose.

"Hey…" His throat throbbed but it didn't hurt as much as the day he got his breathing tube removed. He could use a drink, though. He was parched.

"Dude!" Nino said. He looked like he wanted to tell him so many things but his emotion was keeping him from saying anything. He had tears building up in his eyes, surrounded by dark rings of exhaustion. "You're okay…"

"Mostly," Adrien drawled with a soft chuckle, raising his right arm to weakly fistbump his best friend, who shakily responded with a grin of his own, "Thanks for coming, Nino."

"Anything for my bro," Nino chuckled back, sniffling and trying to hold back tears as he held Adrien's pale hand in his. "You've been gone forever, man! We've missed you!"

"It's only been a few days," Adrien teased. "But I've missed you, too…"

"Week and a half!" Nino countered, waving his finger disapprovingly.

Week and a half? Wow, it certainly had not felt that long. His time with Marinette must have made time go by quicker than he thought. He definitely didn't feel as much pain as he did a couple of days prior, that was for sure.

"Still not forever." Adrien quipped.

"Don't fight me, bro!" Nino warned, "You've been sleeping like a log but it's been hard for us!"

"Yeah, about time you woke up, Sleeping Beauty," Alya chuckled, but he could see tears building in her eyes too.

"I'm still missing my true love's kiss," Adrien joked, weakly rearranging himself on the bed so he could better look at them.

"She's sleeping next door, your royal highness," Alya said, sitting beside Nino and rubbing at her eyes with a snicker. "But hey, at least you haven't lost your sense of humor."

He chuckled. "At least. And… next door?" Adrien asked, perplexed. He had the impression Marinette was a couple of floors down judging by how different his room was to hers.

"Yeah, she got moved to the room beside yours. Doctor's orders." Alya explained, "Your dad paid to have her transferred to a fancy room and it was easier for the doctor to just have you room next to each other, since he decided to take you on as his charge too."

"My dad? But why?" Adrien cocked an eyebrow.

"Beats me, but it's good right?" Alya shrugged, "Easier for us to visit both of you, too."

Adrien was still confused. Why would his dad pay to have Marinette's accommodations improved? Unless it was a donation for a charity to improve his public image, he didn't tend to be that generous. And what was it with Dr. Longuevie that he seemed so attached to them both all of a sudden? He trusted him, for sure, but why was he acting so familiar?

"She's doing much better too. She's been moving a lot." Alya continued.

Adrien smiled, relaxing into his pillows. He could worry about his father's weird decisions later. For now, he was glad she was closer to him than he thought. He missed her already but was calm with the prospect of seeing her in his dreams that night. "I'm glad to hear that. How about you guys? How have you been?"

"Dude, how?" Nino said, finding his broken voice again, "Worried sick! What happened? What was all that? You actually….died for like an hour and then you just… came back to life and you've been asleep for like a week and holy cow why did you do that?"

"Nino, I can't… " Adrien said apologetically, "Slow down…please."

"Ah, yes of course, sorry!" Nino said, "I just… dude I thought you…"

His eyes were beginning to water and his chin was trembling. Adrien could tell he was trying fervently not to lose it in front of him.

"I thought you were dead," Nino croaked. "When Alya told me...I thought the dragon had killed you. I didn't know what I was gonna do..."

"Nino…" Adrien whispered, his own eyes stinging at seeing his best friend's pain. "I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to worry you like this. But… I'm here...I'm okay. I'll be okay..."

"I know, I know…" Nino said, dabbing at his eyes with his palm," I just wish you would've told me, or like, asked me for help or something… But I know it was your job and everything―"

"Wait, what?" Adrien asked, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean my job?"

Nino hesitated and then closed his mouth, eyes widening.

Adrien was sick. That's all Nino knew. That he was sick and injured and that he had ran away from school and got attacked by a dragon. That's what Nino was supposed to know. What was he talking about? He turned to Alya, but she was staring awkwardly at both of them.

Adrien suddenly had a very bad feeling about this exchange.

"Uh, well... What I meant is... Uh…" Nino started, scratching his head awkwardly. "Dang…"

Why was he so nervous? He couldn't possibly… No… No, no, no….

"Well, good job, Nino…" said a squeaky voice from the recesses of Alya's bag. A second later a small, black creature came flying out of it, resting on the railing of Adrien's bed. Adrien barely had time to register what he was seeing before the cold chill of fear travelled down his spine and his eyes widened in panic.

"Seriously, bravo!" Plagg chastised, crossing his arms. "You definitely got don't tell Adrien yet down to a science!"

Adrien's pulse quickened in his veins, heart pounding hard against his chest.

Plagg was talking to Alya and Nino.

Plagg was talking to Alya and Nino.

"So..." Nino said apologetically, avoiding Adrien's eyes, "I… guess I kinda found out you're Chat Noir."

Nino looked back at him and smiled awkwardly.

Adrien took a sharp intake of breath and he was not sure if it was his sickness or the morphine that suddenly made his head go light and the room start spinning.

Nino and Alya meanwhile waited nervously for Adrien to say something. They had expected many reactions. They had expected him to be surprised (check), maybe angry or scared (check?). They had even entertained the idea that maybe it would actually make him happy to not be shouldering such a big burden anymore...

They had certainly not expected to see his eyes roll to the back of his head and pass out cold on the spot.

"Fan-freaking-tastic…" Plagg whined.