ADRIEN

I don’t know if I’m just overwhelmed or overthinking.

I just can’t think and see clearly. Everything’s so hazy.

People pass by me in a rush and I’m rooted in my spot. Some bump me at the sides, shoving me out of their way to head to wherever they need to go.

Why is everyone so busy around me? Where am I?

“..-ien…Adrien…Adrien! Dude!” I feel a strong grip on my shoulders and I’m shaken front and back before a blurry image of Nino’s face appears right before me. He regards me with clear worry and he shakes me again. “Adrien, you okay? Let’s get you to sit first, okay?”

I say nothing even as he guides me to a bench situated behind me. The metal of the bench feels cool as I rest my hands on it. Suddenly, it’s now Alya who appears before me. “Adrien?” She calls out my name while kneeling down on the ground. She peers at me, perhaps inspecting my condition or something like that. “You’ve been unresponsive to everything we’ve been saying. If you can hear me, just make any sound please.”

My mouth opens, but as much as I try no words come out.

“Is that Adrien?” Another voice cries out and I move my head up to see Nath and Chloé standing together. There are tear stains on Chloé’s face. “I’m so glad to see that you’re alright, Adrien,” she continues, sniffling softly.

Nino then returns to my vision. “Dude, Luka’s safe from what happened. I informed him now that you’re okay, too.”

With the presence of the figures around me, I could sense that they are the people I’d been working with…except for one person.

My eyes dart to the side, trying to find her. “M-Mari…” I whisper. “Marinette…” Things become a bit clearer for me now.

I feel their eyes on me, their worrying glances boring into my soul.

Was Marinette with me moments ago? I can’t remember a thing. As much as I try to recall what I last saw and how I ended up in this place, all attempts are proven to be futile.

“Adrien…” Chloé begins slowly. Her voice is gentle and careful. “We’re all in the hospital right now. We moved you to a waiting room. And Marinette, uh…” there is an edge of reluctance as she says, “Marinette has been in surgery for the past hours.”

“S-Surgery?”

“You must have blanked out after the incident, Adrien,” Alya says, also using a soft voice. “She…she was shot. You were with her when it happened. We were all so worried that you got hurt too.”

I can’t remember a thing.

What do they mean that she’s hurt? How could Marinette get hurt? What we had was the final presidential debate. There was no plan of hurting anyone…so how come Marinette got shot?

It doesn’t make sense to me, but I still want to ensure I’ll see Marinette.

“When can I see her?” I ask in a voice above a whisper.

“We’re not too sure yet,” Nath answers. “Hopefully there won’t be any complications during the operation–”

Chloé suddenly interrupts her husband, her gaze transfixed on something above. “Nath, wait, the news is on.” She points toward the T.V. bolted to the wall in front of me.

Everyone fixes their attention on it and I follow suit. The news reporter shows up on screen and begins speaking in a monotonous tone, “Good evening, this is News Channel 8 and I am John Banks. Breaking news, it has been hours after the shooting incident that occurred during the final presidential debate of running candidates Aaron Byvael and Rustan Nordic. We have our correspondent, Joan Harper at the venue where the incident happened.”

A video inside the gymnasium with audience members screaming and running out of it as the sound of gunshots fills the venue begins to play.

“God, there is footage,” Chloé groans and averts her gaze from the screen, resting a hand on her growing bump. The rest of us couldn’t keep our eyes off it, though.

“People saw it broadcasted live as it happened,” Nath mutters. “It was crazy for everyone even if they weren’t there.”

My eyes stay glued to the screen and horror rises in me. The footage is all too personal to me because I begin to remember what I saw at the gymnasium.

I saw Byvael’s men getting shot and some shooting back. A close-up yet blurry footage of a man falling to the ground after getting shot makes me flinch a bit and the memory of Marinette moving faster than me to use her body to shield me begins to flash in my mind. I think that’s when I blacked out because I could not remember a single thing that occurred after.

The video switches back to the news reporter. “A few moments before the shooting began, there were voice recordings played of people, supposedly victims, claiming the involvement of presidential candidate Aaron Byvael with underground procurement rings. The individuals who began the shooting in the gymnasium are still being investigated if they acted out due to their connivance with certain organizations or not.”

Looking back on what Marinette and I talked about before she got hurt, she mentioned that she never knew of the plan those people were forming. The woman never told her; they kept it behind Marinette’s back. I begin to whisper, “She never knew…”

Nino turns to me. “Did you say something, dude?”

“Marinette never knew of the plan to kill Byvael,” I say louder, looking at the people surrounding me. “Those victims wanted Byvael and the rest of his team to die. That’s why…that’s why one of them pointed their gun at me…” My voice trailed off.

“...Yet Marinette took the bullet for you,” Chloé finishes for me. She immediately pieced the two together.

I swallow a huge lump forming in my throat. “Yes,” I breathe out in a shaky breath. “Oh, God, do her parents know? Did any of you inform them? They need to know what happened to their daughter.”

“I told them an hour ago,” Alya replies. “They’re still on their way here. Traffic’s really bad now. It’s as if the whole place is at a standstill. Everyone’s shocked with tonight’s events.”

My fingers comb through my hair and I tug at its roots. “How could this have happened? How could this have escalated to the point where some people have lost their lives?” The image of Byvael falling on stage after getting hit by a bullet runs through my mind. “I even saw Byvael get shot in front of me…”

“Oh, uh, we just received word from our team down at the hospital now that presidential candidate Aaron Byvael who was wounded along with others during the final debate is currently recuperating from a gunshot wound.”

My ears perk up at the mention of his name. “W-What?” I exclaim. Speak of the devil.

“What the hell?” Alya shouts.

“Byvael survived?” Nath utters exasperatedly. We all look back at the screen in front of us.

“Based on the doctor’s report, Aaron Byvael’s surgical operation finished about 30 minutes ago and he is currently in the ICU ward of DuPont General Hospital. Further investigations regarding tonight’s incident will be conducted. We shall continue to keep you updated on the latest reports of tonight’s incident. Again, this is John Banks reporting to you live on News Channel 8.”

My heart drops to my stomach. “This is bad.” I shake my head. “This is going to be really bad. The condition Byvael is in now will actually work to his advantage.”

“But wouldn’t voters be turned off by Byvael now because of those voice recordings?” Nino asks genuinely. “We all saw what happened. The audience in the gymnasium was appalled to hear all those voices.”

“It was supposed to work that way. But we all just saw the news right now. Did they discuss the voice recordings we played back at the gymnasium? Absolutely not! They barely mentioned it and it was clear that they were sensationalizing the fact that Byvael survived death.” I throw my hands in the air. “What is it that voters would want? Rustan Nordic, a man who left the scene unscathed? Or Aaron Byvael, a man who was able to cheat death?"

Chloé then scoffs, “Then you’re expecting the voting population to give their vote to Byvael out of what? Pity? Amazement? Curiosity?”

“It can be any of those,” I mumble under my breath. “...What I’m sure is that we got the attention of the audience but not in the way we planned.”

We all fall silent – lost in our own pensive thoughts of how everything has backfired right in front of us. Our main goal was to hopefully change the mind of the voters. It’s not as if we could have Byvael disqualified from the elections because of those voice recordings. Even if we would make the effort to bring this to court, those voice recordings alone won’t be enough to go against him.

“Excuse me,” A disembodied voice suddenly disturbs the palpable silence and we all face the person who has entered the waiting room. The woman wears a gray scrub suit and a surgical cap covers her hair. She unties the upper knot of her face mask and heads toward our group. “Are you the family of our patient, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

Alya instantly walks to her. “We are her colleagues,” she answers. “I was the one who filled up the needed information on the form. Her parents are still on their way here and traffic’s not looking good so it might take them longer to arrive.”

“Is she alright, doctor?” Nath asks.

The doctor nods. In a monotone voice she continues, “We were able to extract the bullet from her body. Fortunately, she did not lose too much blood but she would still need to rest for at least a week. She is still in the recovery room and our nurses are watching over her until she wakes up. After that, she will be brought to a room where they could continue to monitor her vital signs and if she’ll have any side effects from the operation. Hopefully, nothing bad will happen to her.”

We all breathe out a sigh of relief. Alya then utters, “That’s great news, doctor.”

“It is…” She purses her lips and, almost reluctantly, continues to talk, “I have a question for all of you, though. I am aware that she got injured during the shooting incident at the final debate and that is something that could place one’s body under a lot of stress…but has she been under a lot of stress even before the incident?”

I quirk an eyebrow at her. “Why do you ask, doctor?”

“There are different kinds of stress. In simple terms, there is the healthy kind and the unhealthy counterpart. Our bodies cope with stress in various ways and it can affect us in the long run. Um…Marinette’s body is weak – as if she’s been neglecting to take care of herself.”

I could feel the gazes of everyone around me, including the doctor (who began to look at me after noticing that the people around had their eyes on me). I guess I’m the only one who could explain. I clear my throat softly before I begin by saying, “The nature of our work has become difficult for the past weeks.” I shouldn’t divulge too much information that the doctor must not know. “All of us here have been under great stress.”

“Thought so,” the doctor murmurs in assent. “Marinette will need a lot of rest for her to heal properly. Whatever has been causing her stress should not be re-introduced when she wakes up. For her health, I would suggest forever but I don’t know what her job demands. I just want to make sure that the responsibility of making her heal well does not fall only on my shoulders and the nurses'. Each of you should be willing to give her an easy time from now on…that is if you all care for her recovery.”

Guilt floods within me and I could only gulp down a lump forming in my throat. My hands turn clammy and my legs have grown numb. A part of me feels that…it’s all my fault.

I know it isn’t.

This is the life we individually chose to pursue. I know that.

But what I also know is that I vowed to protect her from any kind of dangerous situation.

My gut feeling of the woman she has been meeting with to take down Byvael was right all along and I let my guard down. Marinette would make herself enter threatening settings and I allowed her to do it.

Noting my silence, the others begin to reply on my behalf.

“Of course, doctor,” Nino utters.

Chloé adds, “We’ll make sure that she’ll feel better in no time, doctor.”

“Thank you. A nurse will inform you once Marinette has moved to her room. You may continue to wait here.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Alya says and the doctor leaves after a slight nod of her head, acknowledging all of us.

Nino then wraps a hand around my arm and guides me to sit on the metal bench behind me. “You need rest too, dude.”

I only get a sense of my surroundings again when Nino moves me. God, I’ve been so out of it and I still can’t wrap my head around everything that happened.

“We all need a long-ass break from this,” Alya mumbles.

Nath shakes his head. “Elections are in a few days. After that, we’ll see if we could take a break or not.” He then moves to Chloé’s side and drops his hand to take a hold of hers. “But you,” he continues while looking straight into her eyes, “I’ll make sure that you won’t have to worry about anything from now on.”

“Yeah right,” Chloé murmurs sarcastically. “Even if you try to shield me from all the stress from now on, I will still make myself be part of it. You know that I can’t sit still if I don’t know what’s going on.”

The others continue to discuss among themselves and I stay quiet the whole time. Sometimes I would listen, the other times I would find myself thinking about other things. And especially thinking about Marinette.

After some time, I feel my phone vibrate from a received text message in my pocket. I fish it out of there and immediately check the message.

It’s from Mister Nordic.

As I read the message, the voices I could hear suddenly died down, and what replaces it is the beating of my heart that has gone inexplicably fast.

Byvael is alive, it read, I’m sure you’re aware of that already. Adrien, you can’t stay here any longer. We shall push through with your request earlier than expected. Call me once you are alone.

“Oh, God,” I mouth out, rereading the message. And now that I found my voice, I mutter out of defeat, “Marinette might never see me when she wakes up…”

—---------

Her room is chilly and the sound of the monitor beeps in a continuous and stagnant manner. It feels somewhat eerie to be here and to see Marinette sleep peacefully on the hospital bed despite what is connected to her now.

We all had to wait for another two hours before Marinette was finally transferred to a private room.

In those two hours, I was able to call Mister Nordic and fix the plan for me to leave. I didn’t expect it to be this soon but recent circumstances have led to this sudden change.

And it was in those two hours that I was able to prepare myself to say goodbye to Marinette.

That’s why I’m here now, alone in her room, wishing that I could have one last conversation with her before I leave. I told the others to rest for a while and that I’ll take the first watch. What they don’t know is that I’ll be saying goodbye not only to Marinette but to them as well.

I spot a chair at the side of the room and carry it. I bring it closer to her bed. I take a seat on it and watch her in silence, her chest moves up and down slightly. I don’t know where her bullet wound is since it definitely is covered under her hospital robe. I’m glad it’s covered, I don’t think I have enough strength to look at it.

It’s hard to keep my emotions at bay. I wish she was never in this situation at all.

I raise my hand to rest it on top of hers which is lying limply beside her. I squeeze her hand softly and my gaze flies back to her resting face. “My brave blue-head…where do you carry such courage in that small body of yours?” I’ve said this to her before and I did not hesitate to say it to her again.

I will forever be amazed by the strength and bravery my blue-head is capable of.

“You are someone that has somehow left such a huge impact on my life…and I’m so lucky that you chose to love me.”

A traitorous sob escapes my lips and I unintentionally let go of all the emotions I’ve been trying to keep in. I rest my forehead on her hand that I’m holding and continue to cry softly. Tears run down my face and some even land on her hand. “I-I wanted to tell you after everything…I wanted to tell you that I’m leaving. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Marinette.”

I force myself to look up. There was some hope in me that she’ll wake up in a few seconds and show me a smile full of understanding and love, but I was met with nothing and the constant beeping sounds that are like white noise to me at this point.

Still, her eyes stay closed.

“Don’t think of me first when you wake up,” I whisper, “I beg of you, take care of yourself before all else. Continue to be strong, my Marinette.” I stand and bend forward to press a kiss on her forehead. My lips linger there for a moment and, as much as possible, I try to pour out all my love for her in that single kiss. I pray she felt everything.

When I pull away, I know that I’ll have to say goodbye already. Just like what Mister Nordic said, I can’t stay here any longer.

“...I don’t know when we’ll see each other again,” I murmur at length. “But what I know is that I’ll make sure that you’ll feel me with you even when we’re far apart. I don’t know how I’ll do it…but I’ll find a way. Just know that I love you…so much that it hurts.”

I stay with her for another few minutes, still hoping that she would finally wake up.

But she doesn’t.

And that’s okay. Maybe I am not meant to see her awake. Maybe our time together is not meant for something now.

I may not understand, but I shall accept it.

I have an envelope addressed to her that I brought with me when I entered the room. Inside is a letter I prepared in those two hours that would hopefully explain everything to her when she reads it. For now, all I could do is leave the envelope on her bedside table and leave the quiet room with nothing but my undying love for Marinette and unbreakable hope for our future.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

We are nearing the end of the story :') I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

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