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Beau and the Beetle	By : Cat_Eyes Category: +M through R > Miraculous LadyBug Views: 3721 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Miraculous Ladybug. Miraculous Ladybug is the intellectual property of Thomas Astruc and released by Zag studios. No profit was made writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Prologue: Alya
- 2-Adrien
- 3-Felix
- 4-Bridgette
- 5-Adrien
- 6-Sabine
- 7-Bridgette
- 8-Alya
- 9-Adrien
- 10-Felix
- 11-Sabine
- 12-Bridgette
- 13-Alya
- 14-Felix
- 15-Adrien
- 16-Alya
- 17-Felix
- 18-Bridgette
- 19-Adrien
- 20-Sabine
- 21-Felix
- 22-Alya
- 23-Bridgette
- 24-Adrien
- 25-Sabine
- 26-Adrien
- 27-Felix
- 28-Alya
- 29-Bridgette
- 30-Adrien
- 31-Sabine
- 32-Bridgette
- 33-Felix
- 34-Alya
- 35-Adrien
- 36-Felix
- 37-Sabine
- 38-Bridgette
- 39-Adrien
- 40-Felix
- 41-Adrien
- 42-Felix
- 43-Adrien
- 44-Adrien
- 45-Adrien
- 46-Epilogue
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Following Alya’s advice, Bridgette started researching family loss that evening. She was glad for the excuse to leave the kitchen, claiming she had homework to finish as Tom and Sabine continued to sit in uncomfortable silence.
However, what she found online was not reassuring. According to the statistics, more than half of the couples who lost a child split up after a short time. The odds were overwhelmingly against Sabine and Tom staying together, and judging by their recent behaviour, a divorce was imminent.
Bridgette did want to witness the breakdown of their marriage. She thought of returning home, but her conscience railed against the idea. She couldn’t abandon them now, even if life in the Dupain-Cheng household was about to take a turn for the worse. Despite whatever was going on, they still needed her help with the bakery, and around the home. To leave now would only exacerbate the situation.
She sighed, resting her chin in her palm as she stared at the screen. Their family was already so small and broken; she didn’t know if they could endure any more tragedies. Surely, they’d been through enough already.
Tears stung her eyes. Rather than fight them, Bridgette let them fall. It was better to let her feelings out, and she always got the most terrible headaches when she tried to suppress it.
Fat tears trailed down her cheeks to drip onto the keyboard. They splashed her fingers and trickled into the crevices between the keys. When her nose began to run, she snatched a tissue from the box and blew.
The unladylike honk used to make Marinette laugh. Unbidden, Bridgette's lips quirked up. Marinette’s laugh had always been catching.
Bridgette let memories of happier times bubble to the surface. Buoyed by remembered joyfulness, her misery ebbed. She closed the tab with the damning statistics, to turn to her social media accounts.
Catching up on the doings of her friends and family back home, she posted that she was doing well, and all was fine. She knew they would only worry if she told them the truth, so she kept the reality of her situation to herself for the time being.
She might discuss her concerns with her mother over the phone, but at a later date. She was feeling too raw, and suspected it would be a few days before she could talk about things rationally. Knowing her mother, she would ask Bridgette to return home, rather than remain in a toxic environment. Bridgette hoped Sabine and Tom worked out their differences before she called home again.
Unfortunately, her tenuous grip on peace was short-lived.
The following morning, when she came down for breakfast, Tom was nowhere in sight, and Sabine bustled about the kitchen with sharp, jerky movements. Her lips were pursed into a thin line, and her brows were furrowed in fierce lines.
Perching silently on a stool, Bridgette helped herself to the cereal, avoiding looking directly at Sabine. Every time she slammed a drawer or cupboard door, Bridgette flinched. She ate quickly, then scurried back to the safety of her room, the echoes of slamming doors following her.
She finished getting ready, then braced herself for the sprint downstairs, to the relative peace of the outside world. Lifting her trapdoor up, Bridgette raced down as quietly as she could, to exit through the rear door, bypassing Tom completely. Tom was usually gentle and calm, so it felt unnatural to be anxious at the prospect of seeing him, but even the kindest person can be frightening when they’re angry.
Once the door was closed securely behind her, Bridgette slowed to a walk. She didn’t have Marinette’s unfortunate habit of oversleeping, so she didn’t need to run to school. Besides, running would draw unwanted attention to herself.
Gathering an air of tranquillity about herself, Bridgette walked toward the school, to be greeted by Alya.
‘Morning, Bridgette. Are you ok? You look pale.’
Slumping against the bannister, Bridgette slid to the ground. Alya sat on the step above her, watching on expectantly.
‘I did some research like you suggested,’ she said, closing her eyes.
‘Yeah, and?’
‘It doesn’t look good. A huge percentage of parents break up after losing a child, and I think Aunt Sabine and Uncle Tom are fighting. It seriously looks like a divorce might be on the table.’
‘Wait, hold up. They’re fighting now?’
Bridgette shrugged. ‘Not that I’ve seen, but Aunt Sabine was definitely ticked off about something, and Uncle Tom was already in the bakery when I came downstairs. He usually joins us for breakfast, but not today.’
‘Could you possibly be reading too much into things?’
‘I don’t know, I sure hope so, but Aunt Sabine’s face this morning would suggest otherwise.’
‘Oh dear.’
At that moment, Adrien’s car pulled up. He was greeted enthusiastically by the other students, though not as many as the last couple of days.
‘Looks like things are beginning to calm down already,’ observed Alya as she watched the group.
Bridgette hummed an agreeing note. She didn’t want to think about Adrien at the moment.
‘I wonder how he found his way out,’ Alya mused, almost to herself.
Bridgette shrugged again, unsure if it was a rhetorical question. Alya was hard for her to figure out. She often thought aloud, and Bridgette had no idea if she wanted a response or not. Usually, she would follow someone else’s lead, but when it was just the two of them, she defaulted back to noncommittal hums and shrugs.
Yet, for all her quirks, Alya was a good person. She was loyal, devoted, passionate, and would have been a good friend for Marinette. Perhaps if she and Alya had met under different circumstances, they would have been good friends too. As it was, Bridgette felt they were more like friendly acquaintances, and nothing more.
When the bell rang, she followed the crowd to class. Most of them were happy, as Wednesdays were a half day, but as the hours ticked by, Bridgette grew anxious.
It was an alien feeling, to be afraid to go home. She delayed the inevitable by accepting an invitation to join a group of them in their search for magic ice-cream, and thus managed to forget about her woes for a few more hours.
Eventually, she had to go back, but was relieved to find that Tom was still busy in the kitchen, and Sabine had calmed down. Bridgette ran a couple of deliveries nearby, and performed her usual chores without prompting before going to her room to see if she could design anything. It was cathartic for her, and she felt almost like her old self again by dinner time. Mercifully, Tom and Sabine had come to some sort of truce, so the evening meal was almost pleasant. Bridgette was immensely relieved, and hoped the rough patch was over with.
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Beau and the Beetle