"the moth's apprentice" chat noir x y/n

as close as possible

Y/N's POV 

I was exhausted. Between feeling like I was being played with like a child by the akumatized Chat Blanc, and feeling like a useless nothing who couldn't save the world if it fell at her feet, I was too close to rock bottom. 

As Chat Blanc walked away from me again, my only thought was that I couldn't possibly go after him. Not this time. He was fighting invisible demons, ones that not even I could protect him from, no matter how much I wanted to. 

No matter how much he'd grown on me — white suit and all — he still had his own growing to work through. And that was something that killed me inside. When he finally shook the Akuma, would he still love me? Or would he be over that — the part of himself that cared so much about me — simply decide that I'm not worth the trouble. 

Chat's troubled eyes met mine as he backed out of the room, his footsteps soundlessly receding, even after I turned around. I could still sense him like a presence blowing on my neck as the doors opened and shut behind me. 

I waited for a few moments before resting my head down on the table. My head was aching after the events of the day and all I wanted was food. Any kind of food that wasn't past expiry, or submerged in the watery remains of Paris would do. 

I got out of my slump, leaving Vector on the table to nap. Then, I left, in search of some kind of meal. One that wasn't waterlogged or moldy. 

I wasn't sure how long it'd been since Paris fell, but I'd have to surmise around a week, maybe more. It was a short amount of time, but trapped with an akumatized Adrien Agreste made it feel so much longer. 

The days seemed to be trickling by like the lazy river that cut down the middle of the street. I nearly couldn't tell night from day as I waited for Chat Blanc to come back. It was like he'd vanished off the face of the earth. 

I looted the Dupain-Cheng bakery for any leftover goods. It was half destroyed; Marinette's bedroom was crumbled on the ground. I found three croissants, which I only managed to ration for two days. 

What felt like months passed before Chat finally showed his face again. 

He looked worse than he did before, if that was possible. Half of his mask had been torn off, somehow, exposing his one green eyes. His other still remained an icy shade of blue. His suit was  close to tatters, still covering most of his body. There were spots where it was worn down, around his arms and shoulders. A tinge of his pale skin showed through in some places, but the Akuma was still in control of his mind. 

I could tell from the second I watched his eyes meet mine that he still wasn't himself. 

"Birdy," Chat Blanc drawled, his words coming out slurred. "I — I fought a raccoon for a watermelon." He hiccuped. "C-can you b-believe that?" He slumped down on the ground in front of me, rolling across the pavement until he landed on his back. There, he stared up at the sky like a lost stargazer. "Guess what?" 

"Are you drunk?" I ignored his question, crouching beside the fallen warrior. "What the fuck, Chat? Where did you even find alcohol?" 

"I'm not drunk," he said convincingly. "This is just my personality." Chat seemed to have forgotten all about the breakdown he'd had the last time we'd spoken, which was just fine with me. "I've been —" he hiccuped again. "Working on myself.." he laughed, but it came out strangled. "I always say, if you can't make it go away...kill it." 

He pulled back a strand of loose thread on his mask, and it came away slightly purple. A long scar ran from where the mask had split. It was tinged pink and mostly healed all the way down, but it carved a thin line down Adrien's forehead and crossed his nose bridge in a vein like pattern. There was fresh blood coming from his nose and a thin layer of blood still drying on his forehead.