Say You'll Always Be Here

Sorry about the late chapter, I had to focus on school. I can't let my grades slip, or my computer will be taken away and I won't be able to write at all. I had a lot of homework right before the break, then I was busy with family stuff for the holidays, then I got sick. I'm still kinda sick right now.

This chapter is the last, and it's sad. I am sorry, even I cried writing this. This chapter will start in Adrien's POV because I wanted to end with Marinette's POV. I hope you enjoy!

-Adrien-

I know that today is going to be a hard day. A hard day for me, for my friends, and for the city of Paris. I'm already dreading it as I button up my black dress shirt. I've never been to a funeral before. Or at least, none that I can remember. The world around me seems duller, as though all the colour and light in the world has vanished. It's like I'm seeing everything in black and white. I haven't been able to take my mind off of Marinette, or her parents, or what happened at the hospital.

It's been almost a week since Marinette was discharged from the hospital. I remember crying the moment she opened her eyes, I think I cried harder that day than I ever had in my entire life. I didn't get the chance to talk to her when she opened her eyes, once she woke up her doctors told me to leave immediately, that they had to run some tests on her. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to see her for the rest of the day, so I went home. I went home and shut myself in my room. The only contact I had with anyone was when I called Alya and Nino to tell them that Marinette had woken up. After that, I didn't leave my room. I didn't go back to the hospital to see Marinette when she was recovering, nor did I try to get in contact with her. I felt guilty about not going to see her, but Nino had told me that she was only letting Alya see her anyways. It made sense, she lost so much so abruptly, it was heartbreaking. I didn't have an excuse for not making an effort to talk to her for the last week. Marinette had opted not to return to the bakery where she grew up after she was discharged. Instead, she was staying with Alya and her family. She didn't want to go home just yet, she didn't want to be alone in an empty house. She didn't want to be reminded of who was no longer there.

This is the first time I've left the house since the day Marinette woke up. I didn't even go out as Chat Noir, I didn't have the motivation to do so. I hardly have the motivation to do anything anymore. I miss Marinette. I miss her so much that every mundane task I do without her by my side feels unbearable. I miss everything about her, her kindness, her sense of humour, her ambition. I miss how unique and special she is. I miss everything that made her Marinette. My life is dull without her. I don't know what I'll say when I see her today. I don't know if she wants to see or talk to me. But I'll try.

I barely make it two steps out of my bedroom when I notice my father, he seems almost stiff and his face is expressionless. He looks me over, a tight-lipped frown crossing his face.

"The funeral is today?" He inquired.

I nodded.

What he asked next truly surprised me. "Would you like some company?"

My eyes widened slightly and I silently wondered if he had offered for some kind of personal gain. My father had never shown interest in what was going on in my life. He never once checked in on me when I was hurting and he didn't even bother to ask me if Marinette was alright. He never cared then, why would he now? I was about to tell him off when I noticed something in his eyes, something painful and somber. I had only ever seen that look once before, when we found out that mom was gone. I had almost forgotten that he too knew the pain of losing the love of your life. I've been dreading this day for nearly two weeks, and it would be easier if I didn't go alone. I'm suddenly thankful that he offered.

I find myself smiling for the first time in what feels like forever. "Yes, I would."

The cold look on his face melts as we make our way to the car. It's a sunny day in Paris, but the sunshine doesn't feel as nice as it usually does. A majority of our journey is silent. I spend most of my time staring blankly out the window, watching the city go by in a blurry haze. There is a small moment of time when I can pretend that everything is fine. That the events of the last two weeks didn't happen. That everyone I know is alive and okay, and the entire world isn't crashing down around me. But reality is a hard thing to accept.

The sound of my father clearing his throat pulls me out of my thoughts. He looks at me and opens his mouth to speak, but he doesn't say anything. Then he sighs and looks down.

"I've been thinking about your schedule for the next year." He says slowly.

Here we go. Part of me wants to remind him that I'm going to be eighteen soon, that he doesn't control me anymore. I want to tell him that I can make my own decisions. But I don't get the chance to.

"We're going to have to cut back on a few things if you're going to be attending university in the fall." He continues.

Did he just say what I think he said?

"You're okay with me going?" I'm baffled and thrilled at the same time.

I was thoroughly convinced that he wouldn't let me do what I wanted until I was thirty.

"You're an adult," He replied. "I should treat you like one."

A small smile crosses my face. Freedom, I was going to get the freedom I always wanted. The freedom that I thought that I would only ever get as Chat Noir. And it's my father giving it to me.

"Thank you." I whisper just loud enough for him to hear.

The rest of the ride is silent but comfortable, and in a matter of minutes we pull up in front of the funeral home. The funeral home is quiet and it smells like flowers. A man in a suit directs us to the correct room where two coffins are laid side by side, surrounded by arrangements of flowers. The caskets are open, and I have to pause in the doorway. It's jarring, seeing two people who were once so kind to me, so accepting and loving towards me, laying in caskets. I feel my father's hand on my shoulder, a comforting gesture. I allow myself to relax and take a deep breath. There are pictures everywhere. A smiling Sabine and Tom on their wedding day, younger versions of them in front of the bakery, them holding a newborn Marinette. They looked so happy. The room is filled with people I know, all dressed in black. My entire class is here, they sit together near the back, allowing Marinette's family members to sit near the front. Chloe is there with her father, she sends me a small smile, which I return. I recognize Marinette's aunt and her grandparents from the hospital, they stand by the caskets and greet guests. Then there's Alya and Nino, who are sitting in the front row next to her. Her head is down, she completely ignores the world around her, and I can tell she's trying to keep herself from crying. Alya rubs her back in small circles, trying to reassure her best friend. Hesitantly, I make my way towards the front of the room, towards her. That's when she looks up, and her eyes are just as blue as the first time I saw them. We look at one another for a few minutes, neither of say anything. Instead we wait, silently praying that the other says something. Say something, Mari, please.

But she doesn't. Instead she stands abruptly from her seat and throws her arms around me, squeezing me in the tightest hug that I've ever received. I was surprised for a moment. But then, carefully, as though afraid to break her, I wrap my arms around her as well. I haven't hugged her in so long. The feeling I get when I hug her is indescribable. I almost lost her forever. But I didn't, she's right here in my arms. And I love her with every fiber of my being. My eyes are misty with unshed tears, and I can feel moisture slowly beginning to seep through the fabric of my shirt as the girl in my arms begins to uncontrollably shake. I slowly rub her back, and after a minute she stops shaking. She pulls away hesitantly and quickly wipes the tears from her eyes.

"Thank you for coming." She whispers.

She takes her seat again and motions for me to take a seat as well. So I do. My father follows me, stopping to shake Marinette's hand and give her his condolences before taking his seat. The funeral starts a few minutes later. Passages from various scriptures are read and people give short speeches. When it's Marinette's turn to speak, her voice quakes and cracks, but that doesn't make her eulogy any less beautiful. And when she's finished, she slowly walks up to the two caskets. She carefully touches her mother's face and gently kisses her forehead, then does the same to her father. The last time she will ever touch them. The last time she will ever see them. She places something in both of the coffins, but I can't see what it is. Then she takes her seat again and takes Alya's hand, squeezing it tightly. Then the morticians begin to close the caskets, and I feel Marinette's hand suddenly grip mine. I squeeze her hand lightly, letting her know that I'm here for her, that I'll always be right here when she needs me. I allow the tears to flow down my face when the caskets are wheeled out of the room to be prepared for burial. I look at Marinette, it breaks me completely to see her crying. Then she stands and takes her leave, and I can only watch her fleeting figure as the heartbroken girl prepares to say her final goodbye.

As she leaves, my mind becomes flooded with all of the things I still need to say to her. She's mourning, I don't want to overwhelm her. This is the hardest day of her entire life. But I have to say it. I have to tell her. I need to let her know that I'm there for her.

I find her sitting on one of the benches in front of the funeral home, she's shaking again and I can hear her quietly sobbing. I can't help but feel like I'm intruding on her privacy, that I shouldn't be here. But she sounds so sad, I can't leave her.

"You can sit if you want." Her voice is so quiet that I'm unsure if I even heard her.

But then she turns to look at me, blue eyes filled with tears. And I find myself taking a seat beside her.

"Sorry for intruding," I apologize. "I got worried."

"No, it's okay," She gives me a small, reassuring smile before wiping her eyes. "I thought that I was ready for this day. But I don't think that anything could have prepared me for this."

I want to put my arm around her, but I don't know if she wants to be touched. So I give her the only other form of comfort I can think of.

"I'm here for you," I tell her confidently. "If you ever want to talk."

I couldn't possibly know what Marinette was going through. But I just wanted her to know that she wasn't alone, that I was here. And then she smiles at me, and that little gesture is more than enough.

"Thank you," She replied, resting her head on my shoulder.

Everything between us is quiet, the air is still as we sit side by side. I don't want to bring up our future, or our past. Especially not here. Not on the day she buries her parents.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

I raise an eyebrow at her quizzically. "For what?"

"For ignoring you after everything that happened." She sighs. "I should have talked to you, told you that no matter what happens, we'll always have each other."

"I'm the one who should apologize," I tell her. "After my mom abandoned me I was terrified of losing the one thing I loved. I should have known better."

The air between us goes silent and still, and neither of us are sure of what to say. Every feeling that we have ever felt for one another hovers in empty space. She was everything that I ever wanted, and the thought of losing her was more painful than when I lost my mother.

"I accepted the offer," Marinette breaks the silence. "I think I should get away from Paris for a while, figure everything out."

I nod. Just two months ago I was terrified of this, of losing her forever. But now I know that I am not saying goodbye. Just see you later.

"You're going to be brilliant." I tell her confidently.

She smiles at me, her face slightly flushed. I missed how cute she looked when flustered. Her smile is so unbelievably magnificent, and I feel the sudden overwhelming urge to kiss her. But I don't. I need to be what Marinette needs me to be. And right now she doesn't need a boyfriend, she needs a friend. And I will gladly be the shoulder she cries on.

"Are you going to be okay without me here for a while, Chaton?" She asks.

I smile at her. "I'm sure that I'll manage."

She stands up and mentally prepares herself to head back into the funeral home. But she stops and turns to me.

"Don't worry, you won't be alone," She reminds me. "Afterall, what's Chat Noir without Ladybug?"

Nothing. Chat Noir is nothing without Ladybug. Just like Adrien is nothing without Marinette.

"I should be going, we have to get to the cemetery." She remarks sadly. She takes a few deep breaths to prepare herself. "I'll see you later."

"I'll text you." I tell her.

I don't follow them to the cemetery, instead opting to go home with my father. I text Marinette first thing the next day. But I don't get a reply that day. Or the day after that.

Or the day after that.

-Marinette-

The room looks almost like a prison cell. There are white cinderblock walls and only a single window. A blank canvas that I can make my own. The apartment building is reserved for students from schools all over London, only a short walk from Central Saint Martins. Outside my window, the sky is grey. It's a gloomy day in London and I can't help but become overcome with melancholy as I watch the dark clouds cross the sky. I am here. I'm alive. I had begun to believe that I would never make it here, and yet here I am. The boxes I'm carrying are heavy and my arms feel like noodles. I set them down on the floor and stretch, raising my arms above my head.

"Goddammit, what do you have in here, bricks?" I hear Alya exclaim.

I quickly take the box from her hands and place it on the desk.

"Careful, It's my sewing machine." I playfully scold her.

Alya sighs and plops down on the mattress lying on the floor. I don't have a bedframe yet, so I'll be sleeping on the floor for the time being.

"My everything hurts." She groans.

I take a break from unpacking and slide onto the mattress next to her. It was nice of her to help me move into my apartment. Alya has been so supportive of me the last few months. She let me stay in her home and helped me through the hardest summer of my life. Everything is still raw, my wounds haven't completely healed yet. But hopefully once I start classes, I'll be able to distract myself with my schoolwork. Everything happened so quickly and suddenly, I hardly had time to process it. The two people that I loved most in the whole world were gone, and I was alone. It took me a long time to do so much as fall asleep at night or eat food. I was completely unmotivated to do anything but sleep. These wounds will never fully heal, I know that. But I'm slowly healing, slowly.

"We only have two more boxes left in the car." I remind her, pulling her up to her feet.

She lets out a loud groan. Two boxes left. And then we're done. And then Alya will go back to France. And I'll be alone. I don't think that I'm fully prepared for that. But she has to go. She has classes tomorrow and a life to get back to. Two boxes. She takes one, I take the other. We're silent until we're back in the room. It was not an easy task, just the two of us rearranging furniture and hauling boxes into the room where I will spend the next four years.

"We should have asked the boys to help us," Alya whines, putting the final box down in my room. "We could have been done much sooner and we'd have been able to explore the city."

I know that she's right. But for the last few months, I haven't been able to speak to anyone besides Alya. I spent my time in Alya's room, which may as well be my own now. I didn't say anything to Nino when he would visit, I didn't answer calls from any of my classmates. Adrien texted me every day, mostly just to ask me how I was feeling. It was sweet of him, but I was too depressed to reply. I had completely isolated myself. I didn't mean to, but I was sad. I was having constant panic attacks and it was weeks before I could even think about eating again. I lost almost fifteen pounds, I was crying every night, it wasn't healthy. I had completely forgotten how I was supposed to live. I know that it's going to be a long time before I feel okay again.

As for my friends, I feel bad for ignoring them. They just wanted to help me and I pushed them away. Especially Adrien, he's been nothing but kind to me despite everything that's happened between us. And I haven't spoken to him since the funeral. I should have talked to him before leaving, but I needed time. I guess I'll see him when I go home for Christmas. If I go home for Christmas. But I don't want to think about the future right now. Or the past. I want to focus on the now. I feel scared. My entire life is different now. And I don't know what to do. On top of my classwork, I've also got to find a job. And I'm basically paying the rent on my own. It's all overwhelming. I'm quiet because I don't want to cry in front of Alya. I don't want her to worry about me on the train ride back to Paris. I'll be alright. I just need time.

"Are you going to be okay here?" She finally asks.

I don't want to lie to her, but I know that if I don't she's going to make up some excuse to stay with me. But she can't, she has class tomorrow. She's going to be at the University of Paris, same as Adrien. She's taking journalism, just like she's always wanted. I think that she'll do well, she's hard working and she has the charisma to be a reporter. Alya has something special, no matter what you can't help but watch her.

"Yeah," I tell her. I hope that I sound more confident than I feel. "Are you going home?"

"I should," She tells me. "I have a ticket for the five o'clock train, but I can buy a later one if you want."

"No," I tell her. "Good luck tomorrow, call me when you get back to the city."

She frowns and hugs me tightly. I don't know what it is about Alya's hugs, but they seem to make all the problems in the world go away. It's going to be so hard not seeing her every day. I don't know anyone here in England. There's nobody here that I can go to if I need advice or a shoulder to cry on. I find myself squeezing her tighter as a tear escapes my eye. I tried so hard to be strong. But now I realize that I am weak.

She lets go of me hesitantly and wipes a tear from her own eye, then places a gentle kiss on my forehead.

"You're going to be amazing Marinette." She whispered.

"I know." I try my best to smile for her, but everything hurts to the point where even a smile doesn't feel good.

She leaves minutes later. And I'm suddenly all alone in the middle of a foreign city. It's overwhelming. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I lie on my bed and bury my face in my pillow. A loud wail escapes my mouth, but no tears fall. I feel a tiny hand on my head, gently stroking my hair as I cry into my pillow.

"It's okay Marinette." Tikki comforts me.

I try to breathe, but I can't. I'm heaving and gasping like something is strangling me. I can't force myself to calm down. Why did I think that I could do this? How could I possibly think that I could survive without them? I can't live without them. Every time I think about them, I feel like there is this empty gaping hole in my chest that just keeps hurting. A part of me knows that hurt will never go away, losing two people that I loved so dearly is a scar that will never heal. I can't escape this pain no matter what I do. I can't distract myself, I can't eat, I can't sleep. I can't live. I can't truly live. Now that they are gone, who will kiss my head and tell me they love me? Who will give me advice? Who will I turn to? I love them. I love them more than anything else in the world. And now I don't have them by my side anymore. I wish they were here to help me moved in. I wish that they could have stocked the fridge with leftovers and helped me hang pictures on the walls. I wish that they were here to hug me and tell me how proud they were of me. That is what I need to be. I need to stop crying and be someone my parents would be proud of.

"I can't cry anymore." I take a deep, slow, breath. "I have to stop."

"Marinette, you're entitled to your emotions," Tikki consoles me. "It's okay."

I know that. That doesn't mean that I don't want it to stop. Stop all of the pain. Try to remember a time when everything was okay, when I was happy. Before the accident, before everything became so fucked up. I remember when the bakery smelled like a bakery, like bread and cookies, instead of being an empty building on a street corner. I remember my mother, a sweet smile on her face, humming in the kitchen as she prepared pastries. I remember my father, giving me a warm hug before I went off to school. I remember when Alya, and Nino, and Adrien would visit. When we would eat leftover pastries together and watch movies. I remember the night Adrien first told me that he loved me. The moment I swore my heart would burst. I remember his kiss, and his touch. I remember leaving Paris without saying goodbye. Why did I do that? Why couldn't I have gone to see him before I left?

I feel like crying again when I hear my phone buzzing. Alya must be psychic, how else would she know exactly when I need her? I pick up the phone and look down at the caller ID. My eyes widen. It isn't Alya. I've been ignoring this call for so long. The call that has been coming every day for months, and I didn't pick up. I wasn't going to ignore the call this time. I pressed the little green answer button and held the phone up to my ear.

"Adrien?" I don't realize just how choked up I sound when I say his name. But he does.

"Mari, are you alright?" He asks, his voice filled with concern.

A quiet sob escapes my lips. I have been awful to him. He has been trying to reach out to me for months and I kept ignoring him. I don't deserve someone like him. Someone who is so loyal and loving no matter what.

"No." I admit. "I'm not. I'm alone and I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do."

He's silent for a moment.

"You're not alone." He tells me.

"I know," I reply. "I have Tikki, but-"

"No." He interrupts me.

A sudden knocking at the door causes me to jump. It must be the landlord, or maybe a friendly neighbour who actually cares to welcome new tenants, whoever it is they couldn't have picked a worse time to visit. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down and quickly wipe my eyes. I hope that my face isn't too red, I don't want anyone to know I was crying.

"Just a minute, Adrien, someone's at the door." I quickly tell him.

I reach for the handle, hopefully this person will be in and out as quickly as possible.

"Hello?" I call, opening the door slowly.

I nearly drop my phone when I see him. His face is familiar and comforting, and there's a small yet reassuring smile on his face.

"A-Adrien," I stutter. I haven't stuttered around him in a long time. "What are you doing here?"

He hands me a paper bag with a popular winery's logo on it.

"It is customary to bring someone wine when they moved into their first apartment." He replies.

I look at the bag and look back up at him. I raise one of my eyebrows, and I can't help but smile at the goofy grin he has on his face.

"Really?" I inquire.

"No." I shakes his head. "I just didn't want to show up empty handed."

I feel a small chortle rumble in my throat at his logic.

"You took a two hour train from Paris to London just to bring me wine?" I chuckle.

"No, I took a two hour train from Paris to London because I wanted to see you." He smiles.

My brain seems to stop functioning at his words, my heart quickly thumps in my chest. He came all the way to London for no other reason other than to see me. I take the wine from him and motioned for him to come inside. He came all this way just for me. Suddenly I'm so overwhelmed with emotion that I don't know what to do.

"Don't you have class tomorrow?" I ask.

"I have Mondays free." He replies. "Are you alright?"

I turn away from him and nod quickly, one look at my face and he would be able to tell that I was lying. Now where did I put the wine bottle opener? Most of the kitchen is filled with boxes, mostly pots and pans, but the utensils are mostly put away. I don't have any wine glasses, so we'll have to drink out of regular glasses. I place the bottle on the counter and begin to unscrew the cap.

"Mari?" I feel his hand on my shoulder, his touch is hesitant.

I drop the wine bottle opener, the metal instrument falls to the ground with a loud clatter. I grip the counter tightly. I've done enough crying today. I don't want to cry again. But Adrien being here, him showing up so unexpectedly, it's almost too much. I shut him out for so long. I caused him so much pain, pain that I never wanted for him. And after everything that has happened, he loves me anyways.

"I'm sorry." I whisper.

My vision becomes blurry as my eyes fill with tears. I feel Adrien wrap his arms around me and pull me close to him. He rests his chin on top of my head and he squeezes me tightly.

"I am so, so sorry." I repeat.

I turn around to face him and hug him back, burying my face in his chest. I feel his hands gently rubbing my back as I tremble in his arms. I pushed him away for so long, I didn't want to push him away anymore.

"It's okay." He whispers comfortingly.

"No, it's not!" I exclaimed. "I should have talked to you. I should have answered the phone when you called."

He pulls me closer, my body is pressed up against his, making me feel warm and protected. I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks and my heart beating just a little faster. I feel this desire, a need to be with him, to be close to him. I've never felt like this with anyone else and I never want to feel this way with anyone else.

"You were mourning." His voice is soft and comforting. "It's alright."

"No it's not!" I yell. "I was sad, but you wanted to help me and I just-"

I choke on my words. Adrien gently takes my hands and leads me to the kitchen table, he pulls out a chair and gestures for me to sit down. Then he hands me a glass of water and gently caresses my hair. The gesture is sweet and comforting, it reminds me of something my parent would do. I choke up again at the thought of them. Adrien gently places two fingers under my chin and tilts my head up to look at him.

"I want to help you," He calmly remarks. "I will always be here for you, as long as you want me to be."

And then, for the first time in a long time, I kiss him. I kiss him like I'm dying, like this is the last time I will ever be kissed. I kiss him like I'm drowning and he is air. Like I need him to live. I cling to him so desperately, running my fingers through his silky blonde hair. He wraps his arms around me, our kiss deepens until it completely takes over all of my senses.

And then I pull away, tears still streaming down my face. Adrien gently wipes my tears, the look in his eyes is so genuine and loving that it only makes me want to cry more.

"I'm sorry." I repeat again. "I thought I was okay."

"I'll stay with you until you are." He sounds so confident.

"You have to go back to Paris." I remind him.

He looks down.

"I don't have to go back yet." He replies. "If you're okay with it, I'll spend the night here and go back tomorrow. And I'll call you every day, and I'll visit every weekend."

For a minute, I'm not sure what to say to him. I want to be with him again, I really do. I want to walk with him down the streets of London, do all of the tacky touristy things, I want to experience life with him.

"I understand if you need time to heal," His face is so close to mine I can feel his breath on my lips. "But one day, I would like to be yours again."

I can't stop the smile that breaks out on my face. I don't know how he can make me feel so special, and happy, and wanted, even when I'm so sad. The empty hole in my heart feels slightly less empty now. It will take a long time to feel whole again, I know that. But this is a start. He's my Chat Noir, I'm his Ladybug. I want to remind him, but I can't seem to find the words. The silence still lingers between us, but it isn't awkward, it's almost happy. Is it possible for silence to be happy? I can't stop looking at him, I feel like a weirdo. God, Marinette, say something already.

"Again?" I inquire. I place my hand on his cheek and pull his face closer so that my forehead rests against his. "Chaton, who said you ever stopped?"

Somehow his smile becomes impossibly bigger, and he kisses me once again.

And that's when I knew. No matter how much pain I was feeling now, I was going to be okay someday. Definitely not today, and not tomorrow. I would heal slowly, it would take a long time. But I was going to be okay. Because I had him. No matter what.

I would always have him.

And that is the end! I hope that you enjoyed the final chapter of Say Something. This fan fiction took like nine months to write. I started writing this in April.

I would like to thank everyone who read, reviewed, favourited, and followed this fanfiction. You have all been great support for me through this writing process. I was always filled with the weirdest sense of pride and joy when someone commented telling me that they cried... I'm not sure why.

I would like to thank Gayle Forman for writing If I Stay, which was half the inspiration for this fic. And Thomas Astruc for creating the other half of the inspiration for this fic.

As for what I will write next? I've been getting into a lot of enemy AUs so maybe that? I don't know yet. But I will write another Miraculous Ladybug story very soon.

Thank you, all of you for reading. I hope you have a wonderful day. And happy new year!