This is the first time in almost a year that I’ve felt the inspiration to write. I want to thank everyone who has commented and kudo’d my work in my absence. I still read every comment and appreciate every kudo, but now I’m back, and it’s my OTP no less!
I might not get this finished by the end of the week because depression but I will finish it.
Definitely.
Without a doubt.
Just ignore the massive amount of WIPs in my backlog.
(#)
Chloe squeezed her eyes shut against the morning light streaming through the curtains and rolled over, curling up tighter beneath the soft sheets. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in ages, not since she learned the true price of having her Miraculous full time: Hawkmoth was nocturnal. Midnight Akumas constantly robbed her of her beauty sleep, but here and now? She felt comfortable and at ease. Her hands stretched out and she felt…something. It was warm, whatever it was, so she shifted closer to it and wrapped an arm around it. The warmth groaned and shifted, but she held on that much tighter.
In her half awake state, she barely registered the grunt from beneath her, but she quite clearly heard an unfamiliar voice say, “…the hell?”
She blinked herself out of her slumber and it took two seconds to realize she wasn’t in her own bed. It took only one second more to realize that, whoever’s bed she was in, she wasn’t alone. She lifted her gaze to a man, an older man, who she didn’t recognize. His long red hair and turquoise eyes seemed familiar but the only things she registered were that she didn’t know who he was and he was in the bed with her.
She screamed and shoved away from him, sliding across the sheets and off the bed opposite him. She stood, ready to demand some damn answers, but when the man’s gaze landed on her, his face turned as red as his hair, and he turned his head away with a hand over his eyes. Chloe opened her mouth to ask what his problem was, but a draft dropped her attention away from him and down to her bare body.
The man protested when she snatched the sheets off the bed and hastily wrapped them around herself. She may have, in the process of yanking the covers away from him, caught an eyeful of something that turned her own face red, but he was thankfully quick to cover up with a pillow.
“Okay, Red. You have ten seconds to explain why the hell you’re in my bed and why we’re…naked.”
“I…I have no idea how we got here, but, um…” His eyes dropped towards Chloe’s chest.
“Hey, hey!” She snapped her fingers at him and pointed at her face. “Eyes are up here, pervo!”
“I’m not looking…” He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. After easing it between his lips, he said, “I think I know why we were in bed together. Look at your left hand.”
Chloe had the sheets clutched to her chest with her left hand. Okay, so he wasn’t looking at her breasts. She shifted her grip on the sheets and looked at her left hand. Her eyes immediately fell on the magnificent ring on her fourth finger: a diamond flanked by a trio of citrine, ruby, and sapphire on either side, and set on a black band with a single gold stripe circling the entire ring. Next to it sat a plain gold band, and when she lifted her eyes back to the man, he had his left hand held up, displaying the gold band on his own finger.
“No, no no no no way in hell!” Chloe looked form the man, back to her hand, then back to him. “We’re…married?”
“Seems like it.”
“Uh uh, no way. A, if I’m marrying anyone, it’s going to be Adrien Agreste, not whoever the hell you are, and B, last I checked I’m only 15, a little too young to be married.”
“You don’t look 15.”
“I don’t recall asking for your opinion.” Though he did have a point. Her body felt different, taller and curvier than she normally was. She shook her head and grumbled, “This has to be the work of that Akuma I was just fighting.” She glanced down around her feet and, thankfully, found some clothes. Black panties and a yellow tank top, but it was better than walking around with a sheet wrapped around her. She sat on the bed with her back to the man and dropped the sheet to get dressed.
“Wait, fighting an Akuma?” Chloe heard some shifting behind her, so she assumed he was searching for some clothes himself.
“Yeah, you don’t recognize Queen Bee?” She pulled the tank top over heard head and pulled her loose hair from the collar. “One of Paris’ great superheroes?”
The sounds of movement stopped. “Wha…Ch-Chloe?!”
“Uh, yeah, who did you think I was?” She stood, working the panties up her legs. With them in place, she turned to address this stranger but stopped when Pollen and a blue kwami she didn’t recognize phased through the door.
“Good morning, my Queen, my King,” Pollen greeted with a small bow.
“May I have some berries please?” the blue kwami asked, rubbing its tummy. “I’m hungry.”
“Duusu!” The man, now clad in dark blue boxer briefs, lunged at the kwami and clamped his hands down around it, but when he turned his gaze back to Chloe, he knew the damage had been done.
“Duusu…” Chloe’s eyes widened. She knew that kwami’s name, just as she now knew who the man was. She scolded herself for not realizing it sooner; she would have recognized that red hair anywhere.
“Paon.”
Neither of them moved or took their eyes off of each other for ten full seconds. Chloe chanced a glance to his bedside table and spotted what she knew was his Miraculous. His eyes darted to her table and back, and she knew her own Miraculous sat there. They waited. Waited for the other to make the first move, with Pollen hovering between them and appearing more and more perplexed as the moment drew out.
There. The faintest twitch of his hand. Chloe’s own hand shot out, wrapped around the comb and she leapt over the bed just as she slipped the teeth into her hair and called for her transformation. The man ducked to the side and just as the golden sparks passed by Chloe’s eyes, he snatched up a pillow and threw it into her face, buying just enough time to affix his Miraculous to the waist of his boxers and call for Duusu to transform him.
He lunged, catching Queen Bee around the middle and crashing through the bedroom door and into a modest, sparsely decorated lounge area that all but proved they weren’t somewhere Chloe Bourgeois would call home. Queen Bee rolled backwards, drove her feet into Paon’s stomach throwing him behind her, then sprang to her feet to face him. He fell through a glass coffee table, but spun on his back just right so the tail of his coat swept a shower of glass shards upwards into his opponent’s face
Queen Bee lifted one hand to her eyes to block the glass, and with the other drew her trompo from her waist and spun it to deflect a barrage of feather darts. She flung out the top, but Paon sidestepped and, completely focused on Queen Bee, failed to notice it ricochet off of the refrigerator and slam into his back. Queen Bee whipped the trompo cord around him, catching the top on the end and using the momentum to wrap the line around him even tighter. She kicked him in the chest hard enough to knock him to the ground, leapt on top of him with her legs on either side of him, then caught her trompo.
The word to activate her power had just formed on her tongue when the handle to the front door jiggled, drawing her attention, and Paon’s. The door swung open and in strode a dark skinned woman with rust-colored hair in an undercut and a broad smile beneath her glasses. “Good morning Kurtzbergs! Put your pants on because I have a surpri-OH GODDAMMIT!” When she laid eyes on them, Queen Bee with Paon tied up beneath her, her face went from smile to disgust, to mild disappointment all in the span of two seconds. She spun back outside, swearing the entire way.
Queen Bee’s blood ran cold and she dropped her shocked gaze to the man tied up beneath her. “Kurtzberg? As in…Nathanael Kurtzberg?” Paon grimaced and turned his head away.
“What happened, Alya?” another woman asked just outside the door.
“I walked in on Chloe on top of Nath. They’re transformed and he’s tied up and-”
“Well, maybe this will teach you to knock from now on.” In walked another woman, this one with a dark pixie cut and bright blue eyes. “Okay you two. You’ve had all week to fuck each other’s brains out, now detransform and…Jesus, you broke the coffee table?” She groaned and slapped her hand over her eyes. “Do you have any idea how much Adrien spent on that?”
“Okay,” Queen Bee barked. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?”
The dark haired woman peeked out from under her hand. “Wait, what?”
“Hey, it could be my house,” Paon grunted indignantly.
“Shut it tomato brain. As if you could afford your own place drawing sub par Ladybug comics.”
Alya walked inside, seeming just as confused as her companion. “Tomato brain? You haven’t called him that in…like, ten years. Are you two having some kind of lover’s spat?”
Queen Bee rolled her eyes. “There’s no way I’m in love with, or married to, this absolute loser. This has to be the work of that Akuma his boss sicced on us.” She blinked at Alya. “And what the hell did you do to your hair?”
Alya lifted a hand to her undercut. “I…got this done, like…a couple months ago…”
“Tomato…Akuma…doesn’t recognize…” The dark haired woman narrowed her eyes at Queen Bee. “Chloe, what year is it?”
“2019, though I don’t exactly look 15 anymore, so I-”
She ignored whatever else Queen Bee had to say and dropped her eyes to Paon. “And Nath? Do you agree it’s 2019?”
Paon tilted his head to look at the woman, though she was upside down from his perspective. “Um, yeah, but how do you know who I am?”
She swore and turned to Alya. “Could you call Adrien and Nino please?”
“Team meeting?”
The woman nodded. “Team meeting.” Alya walked back outside, fishing her phone from her pcoket, and the dark haired woman crouched down. “Okay, this is gonna be a little shocking, but it’s 2029 and you two, at least the two of you from this timeline, got married last week. I know your identity-” she pointed to Paon “-because we’re not enemies anymore. We’re actually close friends. A little more than ten years ago, you betrayed Hawkmoth and helped us defeat him.”
“Us?” Queen Bee said. She looked the woman over. Dark hair, blue eyes, earrings… “Wait, Ladybug?”
The woman smiled. “Yeah, I’m Ladybug, and Chloe, I want you to promise me you won’t freak out too much when I tell you my name, oka-”
“Hey, Mari,” Alya walked back in and stuffed her phone back into her pocket. “The boys said they’ll be here in about-”
“Mari?” Paon turned his head to get a better look at the woman. “Marinette?”
“Marinette?” Queen Bee stopped breathing. “Dupain-Cheng?…Ladybu…wha…” Her breathing started back up, but far faster and shallower than it should have been.
Marinette slapped her hand over her eyes again and sighed. “Oh, goddammit.”
Okay confession time: because depression sucks and my job is eating me alive, this is the last complete chapter of this fic. I'll try to have this done by the end of the week, but I can't make any promises. Just know that I appreciate all of the amazing comments, and I've been so glad to get even a bit of my writing mojo back after so long.
AO3
Chloe groaned and forced her eyes to open against the massive migraine sitting on her skull. She reached out and felt the sheets she’d slept in the previous night; somehow, she made it back home. She closed her eyes again and focused through the pain. How did she get here? What did she remember? The wedding album, crying, lots of crying, the cafe down the street, more crying, and Nathanael holding her.
Her eyes snapped open and she flinched against what she assumed was afternoon light slicing into the room through the thin crack in the drapes. Nathanael holding her? Comforting her? Why would he do that? He hated her, right? But then...why? She sat up, pressing a hand to her temple, and noticed her heels sitting next to the bed. He must have guided her back home, into bed, and even taken her shoes off. Her heart thumped harder in her chest but she shook the feeling away. Why was he having this effect on her?
She slipped out of the bed and out into the living room where she found Nathanael with a sketchbook on one knee and the wedding album on the other. He lifted his head when he heard her enter the room, and Chloe could have sworn there was the faintest smile on his face when he saw her.
He cleared his throat and whatever smile there had been disappeared. “You’re awake.”
A rude and snarky retort sat just behind her teeth ready to tear into him, but there it sat. Whether it was the migraine or her new and confusing feelings directed at Nathanael that held it back she couldn’t tell. Instead, she pressed her fingers into her temples and asked, “How long was I asleep?”
“A few hours. It’s just a little after one.” He pointed his pencil towards the kitchen. “There’s some pain pills on the counter if you need them. I would have made some coffee, but…”
“But you don’t know how?” She rounded the island in the kitchen and spotted the tiny red bottle. A quick search through the cabinets and she finally found a water glass.
“I know how to make coffee, but…” He turned his eyes back down to the album. “There’s nothing but whole bean in there.”
“Of course, I refuse to live under the same roof as pre-ground bullshit.” She found the beans and a grinder, paused, then turned back to Nathanael. “Get in here, Red. I may not like you, but everyone deserves to know how to make a decent cup of coffee.”
When she saw Nathanael blush at her invitation, she had to fight against the word ‘adorable’ crossing through her mind. He set the books aside and joined her in the kitchen. She taught him the proper proportions of beans to water, the proper grind settings, then set a kettle on the stove. As they waited for the water to boil, she asked, “What were you doing with the album?”
He was quiet for too long to Chloe’s liking. He finally said, “References. I thought I’d...practice drawing a wedding.”
Chloe moved across the kitchen to stand in front of him and crossed her arms. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that? You have the internet, a window into the next ten years of fashion and design. Getting to see that before literally anyone else? And you choose our...the wedding album?”
Nathanael matched her glare for a few seconds before he rolled his eyes and looked away. “Okay, I got curious too. I didn’t get that good of a look at it this morning, so I started flipping through it and...wanted to draw a few things. There, happy?”
“No. What about that book could have piqued your curiosity?”
A subtle movement dropped her gaze to his hands, where she noticed him twisting his wedding band about his finger. “I guess...it’s like I said to Marinette and the others last night; I want to know how this happened. How did we go from being bitter enemies to…” He lifted his left hand, fingers still playing with the ring.
Chloe stared at his hand for a long while. The Chloe and Nathanael of this world obviously had a strong relationship, but where had it come from? Sure, ten years was a long time, time enough for her to move on from Adrien and possibly to...but that was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. There was no way she’d choose someone else over Adrien...except she had. Or this world’s version of her had. And the Adrien of this world seemed happy with Marinette. Her thoughts flashed back to what Nathanael had said about the Akuma. Fairytale was supposed to make people live their happy endings. Did this mean that her happy ending wasn’t with Adrien?
The low whistle from the kettle broke her out of her thoughts and she finished showing Nathanael how to properly use a coffee press. Chloe found herself inexplicably smiling as he took his first sip of properly pressed coffee and melted into his mug. She raised her own mug to her lips to hide the smile, but had the slightest suspicion she hadn’t been quick enough. The damnedest thing was that she didn’t care. Maybe it was because he’d seen her at quite possibly the lowest she’d ever been in her life, but she wanted him to see her smile.
“Do you want to go through the album together?” Chloe looked to him and raised a brow. “You know, actually take a good look at the photos now that you’re…umm...” He turned away and bit his lip.
“Now that I’m not obsessed over my mother. That’s what you were going to say, right?”
“No!” Chloe stared at him. “Okay, kinda. You know what? This was a bad idea.” He squeezed his way past her and made his way back to the couch. “I should probably just-”
“Sure.”
Nathanael whipped around and gaped. “Wha?”
“Sure, let’s look at the album together. It’s not like I have anything else to do until Ladybug gets us out of here. Besides, if I do get all weepy over my mother, I have…” You, she was going to say, because he had been her sole source of comfort since waking up in this strange world. As much as she hated his guts, having him around, that sense of familiarity, was better than nothing. She bit the inside of her cheek and reminded herself exactly who he was, who he worked for, and continued, “I have to get over it eventually.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, but soon shrugged and slid over on the couch to make room for her. Okay, not what she expected. She grabbed her coffee and sat down beside him, then turned her attention to the album on his knee.
An outdoor wedding. Flowers everywhere, rows upon rows of chairs set in...Chloe reached over and flipped another page, searching for an identifying landmark. Ah, there. The Jardin du Luxembourg. A nice venue. Several women in yellow sundresses. Marinette, Alya, Kagami, and...Sabrina. Chloe pulled the album into her lap and ran her fingers over Sabrina. When had they made amends? How long after Sabrina walked out on her, tired of Chloe using her superhero status to shove more and more schoolwork onto her? More tears pricked at the corners of Chloe’s eyes, but she wiped them away and turned another page.
She blushed at the picture of Nathanael, wearing black slacks, a purple button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a black kippah. Somehow the purple worked for him, and...was he wearing a bee charm bracelet? He looked...really nice, especially with his hair tied back like thaaaa-no. No, she wasn’t going to think about him like that. Focus on something else, Chloe. He wasn’t wearing a jacket or a tie, so maybe they were going for a more casual wedding? Which didn’t make sense, if one of Paris’ superheroes were getting married, it would be a huge event, right?
On the next page...ah, her dress. A black lacy bodice with a low-scooped neckline, halter straps, and pearl adornments dangling from the front. From the waist down, a pure white sheath skirt with gold embroidered hem and a pale yellow sash tied about her waist, the knot somehow tied in such a way to resemble a flower. Lace fingerless gloves in the same yellow as the sash. A simple diamond and pearl tiara with her veil flowing from the back, her hair tied up with a plain white ribbon, and a bouquet of yellow dahlias. She squinted and looked closer at her necklace. Stones of purple, blue, and green. Paon’s colors. Now that she got a better look at it, it was subdued, but still spoke to her color pallet. Light fabrics to let it breath in the heat of summer. Marinette outdid herself.
“Are you nervous, Nath?” Chloe turned to the laptop at the sound of Nino’s voice. It was a shaky video of Nathanael buttoning up the shirt she had just seen, and another blush crept up on her face.
“Nervous? No. Relieved that we’re finally here? Yeah. Relieved that all of the planning and prep is over.” He chuckled. “Not that Chlo let me do much. She insisted on doing almost everything, including pay for all of this.” He turned to face the camera. “You know, her original budget was over a hundred thousand euros? Do you know how long it took me to talk her down from that? I mean, she justified it as a ‘charitable donation’ to expand the gardens, but that was still a bit much.”
“Well, Queen Bee is the face of the international ‘Save the Bees’ movement,” Nino said from behind the camera.
Nathanael smiled again. “Yeah, she is, however accidental it may be.” He leaned over to grab something off of a nearby table. “I didn’t even really want a wedding if I’m honest, but the moment I mentioned the word ‘elope’ to Chloe, she became a living nightmare until I relented.”
“Yeah, that sounds like you,” Chloe heard from her left. She elbowed Nathanael in the ribs, but kept her eyes on the video.
Nathanael stood back up stuffing whatever he searched for in his pocket. “But I’m glad we’re here. I’m glad she’s…” He turned his gaze to a nearby door and somehow, Chloe knew she was...no. Her alternate self was beyond that door. “If you’d told me ten, fifteen years ago that I’d eventually be married to Chloe Bourgeois, I would have laughed in your face. But I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Not Marinette, not Marc. She…” He chuckled. “She’s come so far since we were in lycee, and I’m so happy…” When he turned back to the camera and smiled, Chloe felt her heart skip a beat. “I’m so happy she’s about to be my wife.”
The screen faded to black, and when color bloomed back in, Chloe stood in the center wearing her wedding dress, her hands fidgeting and her eyes trained on a mirror in front of her.
“Chloe! Stop squirming!” came Marinette’s voice from just off frame.
Chloe looked down and mouthed ‘sorry’, then looked back into the mirror and sighed, her frayed nerves evident in her eyes.
“Don’t know what you’re so nervous about, girl,” Alya said behind the camera. “You’re Le Grand Paris’ chief event coordinator so you obviously know what you’re doing and you’ve triple checked every-damn-thing. This is probably going to be the smoothest wedding ever, granted Mayor Bourgeois doesn’t break down into tears like M. Dupain did.”
“Okay, just because my dad sobbed so loud the priest had to start over three times, that does not mean our wedding didn’t go smoothly.”
“It’s not the ceremony!” Chloe stomped, eliciting another swear from Marinette. Chloe apologized again and wrung her hands together. “I’m...kinda waiting to wake up.” Marinette’s head lifted into frame, a couple of pins hanging from the corner of her mouth and an inquisitive look in her eyes. “I treated Nath like shit for years, treated all of you like shit, and now look at us. Marinette made me a custom dress, Alya and Nino are handling our album, Sabrina agreed to be my maid of honor, and Nath…” She turned her eyes down to her left hand, her engagement ring sparkling in the light. “He proposed. After eight years of probably the rockiest relationship ever, he...chose me. Chose to spend the rest of his life bound to me. Me.
“I feel like this is a dream. I feel like the moment I say ‘I do’, I’ll wake up, I’ll be a teenager again, and Paon and I will be back to kicking each other’s teeth in.” She turned down to Marinette. “Did you ever go through this whole ‘too good to be true’ thing with Adrien?”
The camera lowered to Marinette, who huffed and flashed a wry grin before returning to her work on Chloe’s dress. “When he agreed to date me after two years of stalkery pining, kind of. After I found out he was Chat Noir, definitely. I thought there was no way the guy I loved and the cat who loved me were the same person. Even on our wedding day, I expected it to be some kind of Akuma spell, but here I am, six years deep into marriage with a pair of five-year-olds, and I couldn’t be happier.”
She smiled up at Chloe. “I assure you, this isn’t a dream. You deserve to be happy. After everything you’ve gone through, you deserve this.”
“Especially after all the bullshit you went through with The-Bitch-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”
“Alya!” Marinette scolded, but the smile on her face betrayed her true feelings.
“What?” The camera shook in time with Alya’s laughter. “Chlo put the kibosh on mentioning her name, so how else are you supposed to know who I’m talking about?”
“You’re right.” Marinette and the camera refocused on Chloe. “You’re both right. I deserve this. I’ve changed so much since I was a stupid kid, and Nathanael sees that. He believes I deserve to be happy, and you know what?” She turned back to the camera and the smile on her face was bigger and brighter than Nathanael had ever seen. “I believe it too.”
That particular video file ended and Nathanael turned back to Chloe, who had her eyes down on the album in her lap. She seemed focused on a picture of her dress, which was strange since she described it as ‘lackluster’ earlier. “Are you alright?” he asked.
Chloe ran her fingers over the picture, and when she spoke, she spoke with an odd mix of wonder and sorrow in her voice. “I...she was right. It feels like a dream. This is me. I know this is me but it still feels like I’m looking at someone else’s life.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and all Nathanael could make out was, “I’ve never seen…”
“Never seen what?”
She shook her head and blinked at him, his voice jarring her from her stupor. “N-nothing.” She looked down at the album, stood, and held it out to him. “I’m done for today. You can look through it if you like.” When Nathanael accepted it, she collected their empty coffee mugs and strode into the kitchen, seeming all too eager to put distance between herself and him. Or maybe the album.
Nathanael looked down at the photo Chloe had been looking at. The Chloe in the photo wore the same smile she had in the video. Judging from the background, Nathanael guessed this photo was taken moments after that segment of the video ended, when Marinette had finished her last adjustments on the dress. That smile...he’d never seen Chloe smile that big or that bright. He’d never seen…
He paused and looked back up at Chloe, slowly realizing what she’d whispered.
“Chlo, please come out.” Adrien knocked on the bedroom door again. No response. He could have gone inside if he wanted; the door couldn’t close properly since she and Nathanael tore the frame during their scuffle, but he respected her need for provacy and a moment to process. Adrien huffed and turned back to his friends in the living room. Nino dumped the last of the glass from the coffee table into the trash bag Marinette held open, Alya stood at the door, greeting and paying the delivery driver before carrying three bulging bags of Chinese takeout into the kitchen. Nathanael sat on the couch with a throw blanket wrapped around him, since Chloe, after learning her superhero idol was her lycee rival, hid herself away in the bedroom with all of his clothes.
Alya held a container out to Nathanael, who graciously accepted it until he opened it and curled his lips upward. “I hate bean sprouts.”
Every eye turned to him and he recoiled under their collective gaze. Nino sighed and said, “Yeah, you’re definitely not our Nath. The Nath we know loves bean sprouts.”
Nathanael muttered an apology and passed the box to Adrien. Marinette dropped onto the couch beside him and held out an eggroll. “Can you tell us what happened? Before…um…”
“Before I woke up in the same bed as a very naked Chloe Bourgeois?”
“Chloe Bourgeois-Kurtzberg,” Alya piped up, “as of last week.”
“Okay, I have to know!” Nathanael snapped. He held up his left hand and met eyes with everyone else in the room. “How the hell did this happen? Last I remember, I hated Chloe, then I wake up, it’s almost ten years in the future, and we’re married?” He snatched the eggroll from Marinette and bit down into it. “If I’m going to answer your questions, you have to answer mine.”
The other four exchanged glances before Marinette nodded and turned back to Nathanael. “Okay, we’ll try to help you understand what happened, but let’s start with how you and Chloe got here. She mentioned an Akuma, but which one was it?”
Nathanael leaned back on the couch and blew a puff of air between his lips. It felt weird divulging Hawkmoth’s plans, but seeing that this was a different timeline, and how Marinette said he betrayed Hawkmoth anyway, it shouldn’t make much of a difference. “His name was Fairytale. Some guy sick of all the dark and gritty TV out there, sick of bittersweet endings, character death, ruined romance. He wanted bright colors, friendship, love, happy endings. So Gab-” He slapped his hand over his mouth and turned his eyes to Adrien.
“It’s okay, Nath,” Adrien said, holding up a hand. “I’ve had a decade to come to terms with it. I’m fine.”
The tone of his voice and the look in his eyes told an entirely different story, but Nathanael shrugged and continued. “Gabriel gave him the power to put people into magical comas that let them live out their happy endings.”
“Fairytale…” Marinette stroked her chin and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t remember any Akumas by that name.”
“Nothing on the Ladyblog about it.” Alya sighed and put away her phone. “Even after I went hero full time, I kept a meticulous catalog of every villain we ever fought, and there’s no Fairytale anywhere in the archives.”
“This just happened to me though.” Nathanael ran his hand through his hair. “This just happened. I remember, he almost got Ladybug, but Rena jumped in the way. Chat got hit trying to drag Carapace away from her, and I was fighting Queen Bee, like I usually did. I got her in an arm lock, Fairytale aimed his scepter at her, but she managed to get free before he could zap her, and I’m pretty sure I felt the beam hit me.” He gazed at the bedroom door. “I can only assume she got hit too.”
“But how did he put both of you into the same dream?” Adrien asked, then his face fell flat. “Wait, does this mean…we’re a dream? None of us are real?”
“I only know vague details of the powers Gabriel gave Fairytale. It could be this is a dream, or a possible future, or even an alternate universe somehow.” Nathanael sighed. “Doesn’t really explain where your Chloe and Nathanael are, but…”
The group sat quietly to process all of this, oblivious to the bedroom door cracking open and a single blue eye peering through the gap. The smell of food had drawn her from her freak out over Ladybug’s identity and prompted her to at least put on some pants, but it still felt strange to walk out in front of them. In front of Marinette. Ladybug. No, she told herself. She isn’t Ladybug. Nathanael just confirmed this is some fake reality created by the Akuma. Only vaguely satisfied with her reasoning, Chloe straightened her back, put on the haughty facade she’d always hidden behind, and strode out into the living room.
“Well, that’s certainly a relief,” she said. Everyone turned to her, but she paid them no mind. “This is all just the work of an Akuma, so all I need to do is wait for Ladybug-” She sneered at Marinette “-the real Ladybug, to purify it and I’m back where I belong: a world where Mari-trash didn’t marry my Adrikins, she’s not Ladybug, and I never made the mistake of marrying that tomato brained loser.” She picked through the bags of takeout and settled on a bag of crab rangoon. “And Ladybug will be so proud that I figured out Hawkmoth’s identity.”
“Yeah, you’ll be a real hero.” Nathanael crossed his arms, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Even though you didn’t actually do anything, per usual.”
“Okay, Red. What the hell do you have against me?” Chloe slammed down the bag of rangoon, tiny crumbs of fried wonton scattering across the counter. “You said earlier you fought me ‘like you usually do’, and until then, I never realized that Paon singled me out every time. So why?”
Nathanael gave her a grim grin and humorless chuckle. “Do you know…how…infuriating it was for me when you became a ‘hero’?” He spat the last word. “When you received a Miraculous? Okay, the first time I thought it was a fluke, a mistake, but then Queen Bee shows up again to face Malediktator and you even get a giant balloon in the Heroes’ Day parade?” He scoffed. “I know I’m not the only one who thought you were the last person who deserved to be a hero.”
His arms shifted beneath the blanket and his hand soon emerged with the Peacock Miraculous between his fingers. “When Gabriel gave me this, he explained that he felt my rage and thought I’d make a powerful ally. I wanted to turn him down, even after he told me he just wanted his wife back, wanted his family to be whole again, I still almost turned him down, then I thought about what having that power would mean. I wouldn’t be a pushover anymore. I’d be…strong for the first time in my life, strong enough to take away your Miraculous, because you clearly didn’t deserve it.”
Chloe bit her tongue to hold back her tears. She didn’t even know why she was on the verge of crying. It’s not like his opinion mattered to her. All that mattered was that Ladybug trusted her enough to let her keep her Miraculous and Pollen full time. But something about his words still stung. He hated her enough to become a villain. To willingly become a villain.
He dropped his arm, sighed, and when he spoke again, all venom was gone from his voice. “Comic books always taught me that the best villains were the ones with complex motivations, and that’s what I thought Hawkmoth and Paon were. I thought I was doing the right thing. I was helping a grieving man while attempting to take power away from someone who had a history of abusing it. Then there came a time when I realized Gabriel wasn’t doing it for his family anymore. He was…addicted to being a villain. I’d watch him walk out of meetings, leave more and more business decisions to Nathalie, blow off time with Adrien again and again just to make another monster”
Nathanael leaned back on the couch. “But by the time I had that little epiphany, I was in too deep. I had no hope of turning on Gabriel. Forget his money and connections, he had superpowers, and a butterfly on me at all times. And with my actions against Ladybug and her team, I had no hope of convincing her that I wanted to be a hero instead, so I bit my tongue, kept my head down, and let my hatred for you keep me going.”
Chloe’s eyes burned and she almost stormed out of the kitchen and back into her bedroom, but Nathanael’s next words froze her. “I’m a hypocrite.” She turned back to him, but he wasn’t even looking at her anymore, his eyes focused on nothing. “Now that I say all of this out loud…I’m just a damn hypocrite. I keep telling myself you don’t deserve to be a hero, but neither do I. I’m a villain.” He tilted his head back and scoffed. “And not even a good one. There’s no tragic backstory, no complex motivation. I’m just some kid lashing out at a classroom bully.”
Why did something in her ache at his words? Was there something to their relationship in this dream world? Alternate timeline? Whatever it was. Chloe shook her head. No, this wasn’t real. Fairytale was supposed to help them live their happy endings, but all Chloe saw was worst case scenario: Adrien stolen away by the girl she hated most, who also turned out to be her hero and idol, not to mention she was married to a supervillain.
Desperate for a distraction, Chloe said, “Alright, he answered your questions, now answer ours: how the hell did we end up together?”
The four of them exchanged glances, almost unsure of where to start. Alya broke the silence. “We don’t really know when it started. It was small signs at first. You were showing up late to patrols, taking longer on your routes…”
“You pretty much stopped flirting with Adrien,” Nino added.
Alya continued, “We kept teasing you about making out with Paon, because,” she giggled, “damn there was so much sexual tension between you two.”
“Sexual tension?” Chloe and Nathanael said at the same time.
“Yeah, every time you two fought, you flirted hard. Even before you started up your little romantic rendezvous.”
“Wha?” Chloe balked. “Me? Flirting with him? Never.”
Marinette turned to Adrien. “Kitty, were they flirting?”
Adrien turned to Marinette, a clump of lo mein hanging from his mouth, thought for a second, then nodded. He slurped up the noodles and said with his mouth full, “Yeah, they flirted all the time.”
Alya continued. “And since Adrien is the most oblivious person in this room-”
“Hey!”
“-suffice it to say, you were definitely flirting.” Chloe opened her mouth to argue, but Alya held up a hand. “Back to the matter at hand, though. Eventually you admitted to meeting with Paon. He found a way to avoid the akuma surveillance and told you all about his deals with Hawkmoth, their identities, and his desire to rebel. You vouched for him, and after learning his identity, we trusted you both. We then proceeded to kick Gabriel in his Hawkballs and boot his sorry ass into prison. About a month after that, you two started dating proper, and…” She gestured to the home around them.
Chloe and Nathanael exchanged glances, expressions blank and impassive. Alya rolled her eyes, stood, and walked over to her messenger bag by the door. She fished out two items: a large black book with something written on the cover in gold leaf inlay and a blue flash drive with a tiny bee charm dangling from it. “Look, we can’t explain the ins and outs of an entire relationship, especially one almost ten years in the making, but maybe these will help.” She tossed the book into Nathanael’s lap and handed the drive to Chloe. “That’s why I came over today; Nino and I finished editing and compiling your wedding album. Photos, video, small keepsakes, everything.”
Nathanael stared down at the book in his hands and ran his fingers over the inlay, which read:
“Artiste et Muse”
Le Mariage de Chloe Bourgeois et Nathanael Kurtzberg
30 June 2029
Artist and muse? He was obviously the artist, but Chloe, his muse? When had she inspired anything in him other than rage and disgust?
“This doesn’t help a damn thing, Cesaire!” Chloe spat, throwing the drive back at her. “I want to know how we got here, not where we are!” She threw up her hands and stormed back to the bedroom. “I swear, Ladybug can’t purify this Akuma fast enough.” The door slammed hard enough to rattle the dishes in the kitchen cabinets and Nathanael’s teeth.
The others tried to console him, but their kindness felt so foreign to him. Despite who he’d become in their timeline, he was still a villain. After Alya passed him the flash drive, and they attempted to finish their lunch, two things occurred to him. One, he found himself actually agreeing with Chloe. For the first time since he became Paon, he wanted Ladybug to win, to purify Fairytale and get them both out of this crazy world. And two, Chloe had sequestered herself in the bedroom again…
So yeah, this chapter kinda broke my heart to write, so fair warning, if you have emotions, you might want to get rid of them before reading this.
AO3
Nathanael rolled over, pushed his longer hair out of his face (seriously, what was future him thinking growing it out this long?) and rubbed at the knot in his neck. He would have much preferred sleeping in the bed, but Chloe had refused to let him in the bedroom even well after sunset. He made a mental note to never buy this particular model of couch once he and Chloe got out of this strange world, then pulled the blanket back around him and attempted to drift back to sleep. However, a small sound kept his consciousness from sinking back into slumber. It came only every few seconds, faint against the hum of the air conditioning and refrigerator, but it was enough to occupy his thoughts and force him to roll back over on the couch and investigate.
Chloe sat in the recliner opposite him with a lamp on beside her and her knees pulled into her chest, small sobs shaking her whole body. On the replacement coffee table in front of her lay an open book, the pages covered with pictures. Nathanael blinked to clear his vision and focused on the book. One of the pictures seemed to be of him in a button up shirt.
The wedding album.
Why was Chloe flipping through the album? She didn’t seem too keen on ‘reliving’ their wedding yesterday, so why…
“Chloe?” he said, though he wasn’t sure why he called out to her. She lifted her head, her eyes widening when she realized he was awake, then squeezed them shut and turned away from him.
“Leave me alone,” she whispered.
Normally, he would have told her off because she was the one who came into the living room where he was sleeping, but he remained silent, listening to her grieve over...what?
“Chloe, what’s wrong?”
“Why do you care?” she snapped.
An excellent question, but one he’d have to worry about later. He almost threw off the blanket, but remembering that he was still pantsless, wrapped it around his shoulders and padded over to the recliner. Chloe must have heard him coming because her head snapped up, her eyes widened, and she scrambled out of the chair and towards the bedroom door. Nathanael managed to catch her about the wrist and pull her closer, but she kept her head turned away.
“Chloe, talk to me. Why are you crying?”
“Again, why do you care?” She still refused to fully look at him and made several half-hearted attempts to remove herself from his grasp.
“I…” He sighed. He didn’t really know how to answer that. There was a reason he always left the words to Marc. Maybe...it was best to start with the obvious and go from there. “I...I’ve never seen you cry before.” She stopped pulling away from him, but still did not turn her head. “It always seemed like...you wanted to appear strong, so you never showed any emotion other than arrogance. Not to mention you hate me, so it has to be a big deal if you’re crying in front of me. And even though I don’t like you either, I’m not completely heartless, so please, Chloe.” She slowly turned to face him and he could just make out the redness in her eyes from the weak early morning light streaming through the windows.
She sniffed and opened her mouth a couple of times, but no sound came out. Without warning she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, allowing her sorrow overtake her. Stunned for a few seconds, he eventually returned the embrace, not sure of what else to do, and let her shake and sob in his arms. He chanced lifting a hand and petting her hair, which seemed to do little to stifle her tears, but stopped her shoulders from heaving with her sobs.
She mumbled something into his chest, and when he asked her to repeat it, he finally heard, “She’s not in it.”
“What? Who?”
She sniffed again. “Mom…” Her face curled up and a fresh wave of tears flowed down her face. He guided them both to the couch, wrapped his blanket around her, then turned his attention to the wedding album, which he pulled closer to him and flipped back to the first page.
Photos of Chloe, himself, the groomsmen, with what may have been Marc as his best man, the bridesmaids...was that Sabrina as the maid of honor? She and Chloe must have made up at some point. Photos before, during, and after the ceremony. And so many familiar faces. He saw the mayor standing beside Chloe, him standing beside his mothers. The Dupain-Chengs carrying a massive cake, Marinette and Adrien with two small children hugging their legs. An older woman who looked so much like Adrien...she must have been Emelie Agreste. Nino and Alya with cameras around their necks. Alix, Kim, Ondine, Max, Rose and Juleka, Luka, Kagami, Ivan and Mylene.
But not a single photo of Audrey Bourgeois.
(#)
After convincing Chloe to change and finally getting himself some clothes, Nathanael managed to drag her out of the house and down the street to what was, at least according to Alya, their favorite cafe. They sat across from each other, wordlessly swirling their coffee, trying to pretend this wasn’t technically their first ‘date’, and trying to pretend they were as familiar with their server as she was with them. The girl must have known them quite well, because she sensed something off and brought them fresh croissants ‘on the house for the newlyweds’.
“Is she dead?” Nathanael paused with his coffee halfway to his mouth at Chloe’s question, but didn’t answer. “Is my mother dead?” When he still didn’t answer, she continued, “You called Marinette before we came out here. I know you asked her about my mother, so is she dead? Is that why she wasn’t in…” She clapped her hand over her mouth and sniffed back her tears.
It was true. After sunrise, he’d called Marinette to get more insight on the Audrey situation, which was only possible because he’d had the foresight to ask Alya for the passwords to their phones and laptops in case they needed them. He nearly gagged when he saw Chloe’s number listed in his phone as ‘My Queen’, but chalked it up to the Chloe and Nathanael of this universe being sappy romantics.
“...no, she isn’t. She-”
“God, what kind of daughter am I?” Chloe murmured. “I was...almost wishing, hoping she was dead, just so she’d have a decent excuse for...for not being there.”
“Why were you looking through the photo album anyway? You said last night-”
“I know what I said!” She snapped, then glanced around at her outburst and took a deep breath. “I’ve...had this picture in my head of what I wanted my wedding to be like for years. Granted, it was always Adrikins at the end of the aisle, but...I just wanted to see how this matched up to my fantasies.”
“So…?”
“My dress was a tad lackluster for my tastes, but I didn’t really pay attention to most of the pictures after I realized...” Chloe met his eyes for the first time since they’d arrived at the cafe. “Why wasn’t she there? This was my wedding. Why couldn’t my own mother be there for my special day?”
Nathanael rubbed at the back of his neck. How to sum it all up… “Marinette said...when we first started dating, Audrey immediately hated me. She said you deserved better, that dating someone like me was...how did Marinette put it?...’beneath a Bourgeois’. This...Marinette told me this led to our first big fight as a couple.”
“Let me guess,” Chloe mumbled, propping her cheek on her fist and stirring more sugar into her coffee. “You wanted me to cut off my own mother.”
Nathanael shook his head. “The opposite, actually. You wanted to cut her off.” Chloe froze and lifted her eyes. “I...I wanted to break up with you, because…” He tore off a piece of croissant and brought it to his mouth, but didn’t take a bite. “I...didn’t want to force you to choose between me and your mother.
“So we argued, you made your decision, and you ended up severing ties with Audrey. She moved back to America within the week and hasn’t spoken to you or your father since.” He shrugged. “Then a few months ago, you got mad at me because I looked up her address and sent her an invitation to the wedding. You wanted nothing to do with her, but I thought she’d at least want to be at her daughter’s-” he bit his tongue and sighed. “Yeah, I guess you know the rest.”
Chloe stared at him for a few seconds. He wanted her to have a relationship with her mother. He was willing to sacrifice his own happiness for her, and even after she’d made her choice, he still wanted to reach out to Audrey, to try? Her heart thumped in her chest in a way she didn’t appreciate, and she had to remind herself that this wasn’t her world, her future. She snatched up her own croissant and pulled the butter dish closer to her.
“Why do we keep talking like it’s us doing all of this? This isn’t us and this isn’t our world. We aren’t the ones all lovey dovey with each other, it’s the Nathanael and-” she gagged “-seriously misguided Chloe of this world.”
“Because referring to ourselves instead of saying ‘this world’s Chloe’ or ‘this timeline’s Nathanael’ makes the conversation go by quicker.”
“And we both don’t want to talk to each other longer than necessary.”
Nathanael slid his coffee cup aside and folded his hands on the table. “Alright, if you hate me so much, then why were you crying into my chest an hour ago?”
Chloe sniffed. “I needed emotional comfort and you were convenient. I would have preferred if Adrikins or Daddy had been there-”
“Or Mommy?” Nathanael interrupted.
Chloe dropped the bread knife and turned a gaze to him that would have made him recoil in fear if his time as Paon hadn’t steeled his confidence. “Low blow, Kurtzberg.”
“Oh, I can go lower.” He glared and smirked at her. “Kurtzberg.”
Chloe slapped her hands on the table, but this time she had no reservations with interrupting the other cafe patrons. “Hey, I’m the one in emotional distress here!” she hissed. “If you’re going to be an absolute jackass while I’m still processing that my own mother didn’t bother even RSVP-ing to my wedding then I’ll just-”
“What does it matter if she was there or not?” Nathanael countered. “You keep insisting that this isn’t our world or our future, but you get your panties in a twist over your fake future mom not coming to your fake future wedding? God, pick one, Chloe!”
Chloe opened her mouth, but soon shut it, her lips quivering. She lowered her gaze to the table and released a slow sigh. “I think...some part of me always knew my mother would never fully approve of me.” She sank lower in her chair. “That no matter how hard I tried to live up to her standards, I’d alway fall short one way or the other. I guess, this world kind of felt like proof. Even bringing someone home I lo-” She cut off the word, glanced to Nathanael, then back down to the table. “S-supposedly love, she…” A dry laugh choked its way up her throat. “Beneath a Bourgeois? Is that what Marinette said? My own mother was more concerned over the family image, than...than my happiness?”
Nathanael’s gaze and voice softened. “Hey, like you keep saying, this isn’t our world…”
“But it still feels so...appropriate for her. So...in character. Now that I think about it, what would happen if I dated someone she did approve of?” Chloe’s eyes wavered back and forth, as though searching for the answer in the space between her and the table. “Nothing would change. She might approve of someone like Adrien, but only because of the social advantage. It would be...it was…” Her eyes widened. “Just like her and my father, she only married him because of his political connections. It…
“It was never about love.”
It started small, the faintest glistening in the corner of her eye, the lightest tremble of her lips, the muted shaking in her ragged breath, but each action compounded and snowballed, and soon, whatever wall or barrier Chloe had erected to maintain her composure finally cracked and crumbled. She wrapped her arms around her middle and wept, her head bowed over the table and her coffee forgotten. Nathanael, surprised by his own actions, rose from his chair fast enough to send it crashing backwards, rounded the table, and settled his arms around Chloe’s shoulders. Her tears did not slow; the only effect his comfort had was for her to shift and wrap her own arms around his chest, and continue to wail into his chest. They sat like this for several minutes, oblivious to the staring patrons around them. While Chloe wetted his shirt with her tears, Nathanael’s mind buzzed with so many questions.
Why was he comforting someone he hated? Was it just to maintain the appearance of a married couple in this world? Why did Chloe feel so comfortable crying into his chest, seeking comfort from her enemy? What could have happened between them to create this world, this future? But most of all...
