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Nathalie's Resolution
Epilogue
By: I Write Big

Nathalie placed her latest sketch designs for the Spring Lineup on Mr. Agreste's desk. He'd be back in a few minutes which gave her a rare moment of privacy. The man's office was designed to be borderline soundproof, except for the door, to allow for maximum concentration which also made the room a perfect place to relax and reflect. The past couple of weeks had been better than Nathalie could've ever imagined. With Emilie handling most of Adrien's chaperoning outside the mansion, Nathalie handled his indoor Chinese lessons and piano practice, as well as his meals. At one point, Adrien asked if Nathalie would like to start eating breakfast with him; an idea she'd never considered before but she readily agreed. Emilie joined them on occasion, usually bringing chocolate-covered coconut mounds. Those meals became something to look forward to. They reminded Nathalie of her calming talks with Mrs. Agreste. As far as Nathalie could tell, the Dupain-Cheng girl had not asked out Adrien yet and Adrien was completely unaware of her feelings. Emilie was doing her best to push Adrien closer to the girl but Adrien seemed too preoccupied with helping his friend improve her social skills. Perhaps approaching the Dupain-Cheng girl was the better strategy. Nathalie often considered whether she should give relationship advice to the shy girl while spending her afternoons adjusting and designing to her heart's content.

"So, what are your plans now?" her mom had asked before boarding the plane back to Bucharest. "You're a designer like you always wanted. Maybe it's time to look for a husband, eh?"

Nathalie dodged the question with expertise and promised to call. She did. Twice a week.

Still...

Her mom's question hung in the air. She had achieved the job she'd wanted since she was a child. This was her dream. What now? Maybe marriage wasn't so crazy. And, if she was being perfectly honest, Mr. Agreste wasn't as cruel as he initially appeared. He listened to her suggestions and always gave her credit if he implemented them. Almost half of the Spring Lineup would have her name attached.

It almost felt like she'd become Mr. Agreste's right hand.

Nathalie turned to the golden mural of Mrs. Agreste. She'd often catch Mr. Agreste staring at this wall with a forlorn look. There was a heart in that barren wasteland after all. There must be if someone as pure as Mrs. Agreste loved him. She touched the mural, asking herself if what she was considering was wrong. If Mrs. Agreste was still here, she would never think it. Never in a million years. She wouldn't do that to her.

But Mrs. Agreste wasn't here.

Did that make it okay?

Nathalie looked up at Mrs. Agreste's resting face as if the mural would come to life, possessed by its subject's soul, and answer her. It didn't. It was just a mural. Nothing more, nothing less.

Then her finger sunk into the wall.

She pulled her hand away, thinking she'd accidentally poked a hole in the piece of art. What she saw instead was one of the mural's flakes of gold had dipped into the wall, past the confines of the canvas. Unsure of what was going on, Nathalie pressed the flake again. It gave at her touch. A hidden switch clicked and the flake stayed in place. Nothing happened. Nathalie's eyes wandered to the other flakes in the mural. She tried them. There were more hidden buttons, each slid and clicked into place. She kept searching until she'd used almost all ten of her fingers. There was another click. This one came from under her feet.

Before she could react, the floor under her opened and a miniature elevator carried her down. The descent was so fast, it was more like a drop. Nathalie barely had enough time to yelp before the floor shut above her head and the world became dark. She could sense she was still falling, her feet still planted on the small circle of the floor she knew was safe.

What is this? Some kind of delivery chute? she thought in a panic. Her mind raced to make sense of the situation. There shouldn't be any danger. The worst that could happen is Nathalie getting dropped in the dumpster behind the mansion. That's probably what this was: Mr. Agreste's private trash disposal slide or something. Nathalie hoped the stains would wash out.

Then the light returned. She was going down a tube into what looked like a grand cathedral. Most of this cavernous room was pitch black, but a great circle window shined sunlight on what looked like an altar. The elevator came to a stop on the altar's floor and the tube opened. Nathalie stepped out, searching for a panel of some kind to send her back up. There was nothing. She prayed the elevator wouldn't shut and leave without her. Maybe she could find some stairs. The altar drew Nathalie's attention again. It was overrun with plant life, a miniature garden with wild vines covered with white flowers which had yet to bloom. In the center of that garden looked like… a person.

Nathalie slowly approached, each step reverberating around her. When she made out the person's face, she shouted.

"Mrs. Agreste!"

Nathalie ran, no longer scared. She reached the altar. It was Mrs. Agreste, still wearing the light pink pantsuit she had on when she boarded the plane to the Far East. Only she was trapped inside some kind of glass coffin. Nathalie banged her fist against the prison.

"Can you hear me? Mrs. Agreste? Emilie? Are you okay?"

Mrs. Agreste didn't respond. She laid there with a peaceful face as if she was in a deep sleep. Nathalie couldn't tell if she was breathing or not.

"I'm going to get you out of there! Hold on!"

She found buttons and levers at the bottom. Nathalie pressed them at random, hoping one would free her friend. A particularly long lever looked promising. She pulled it. There was a drawn-out hiss. A row of lights at the bottom of the coffin started to go out, one by one.

"NO!"

A strong hand pulled Nathalie away. It was Mr. Agreste. He pulled the lever and hit a few buttons. There was the inflating sound of a vacuum being created and the row of lights filled back up. The man pressed himself against the glass, checking Mrs. Agreste for something. When the man was satisfied, he said, "I'm sorry you had to see this." He was whispering.

"Mr. Agreste, what—" Nathalie's voice cracked and she started to shout. "What is going on? Why is she in there?"

"I told you. She's gone," he continued to whisper. "At least, she will be if she wakes up. She won't survive."

Nathalie couldn't believe this. After all this time, Mrs. Agreste—Emilie, her friend—was right under her feet the whole time. She'd accepted her death, actually started to move on. And her husband was secretly keeping her on life support? No. This was wrong. This was so wrong.

"Sir," Nathalie said, keeping the last remains of her mask on. "You also told me she was beyond anyone's help. If that's true, you can't keep her like this."

"I know," Mr. Agreste said, his sad tired face—his real face—reflecting in the glass. "That's why I need the Miraculous."

"The Mirac—"

Nathalie covered her mouth and gasped. She took a step back in fear. Shivers crawled up and down her spine in an endless loop. She suddenly noticed that the unbloomed white flowers on the vines weren't flowers. They were cocoons. The sun glared in her eyes and she saw shapes in the giant circular window. Lines crisscrossed, forming various abstract designs. But containing all of those lines was one distinct form. They were the wings of a butterfly… or a moth.

"You?" she asked the man who bowed his head in shame. "You're Hawkmoth?"

"Everything I did was for her." He sounded pathetic, feeble as if he had been telling himself this for months but wasn't entirely sure if it was true anymore. "With the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous, I can make a wish. Any wish. I can bring her back."

Mr. Agreste said nothing else. He was admitting defeat. Nathalie could see that. He wouldn't stop her if she went straight to the police. Maybe a small part of him wanted that to happen. He'd been going down this path alone for too long. Being exposed, having to justify his actions, restarting life support, it all had taken the last will to fight out of him. Whether Nathalie pulled the lever or turned him in, Mr. Agreste wouldn't resist anymore. It was up to her.

"I'll help."

Mr. Agreste looked up at Nathalie, unsure of what she'd said. If there was a chance to bring Emilie back, then she'd take it.

"Let me help you, sir. Tell me what to do," Nathalie said with firm resolution.

THE END

And that's it. That's the end.

It took me a long loooong time to write this story because of how personal it was. I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried every time I tried to sit down and write more. But each time I finished a chapter, I felt relief, like I had dropped half a ton's worth of emotional baggage. I guess writing really is therapeutic.

I'm glad I kept this one-shot going and saw it through to the end. Looking back on my other fics, which are more lighthearted than Nathalie's Resolution, I'm proud to see my growth as a writer. I'm so grateful to everyone who read this fic, to the people who loved it and let me know, to the people who felt it could be better and left constructive criticism. It feels amazing to tell a story that gets a reaction.

You may have appreciated how this fic ended or you may have thought it was the worst ending ever. That's fine. At least, there weren't any giant space spiders. I think we can all agree on that.

My time now is going to be focused on writing my book, an actual book. I will update every single one of my stories when it's done with info on where people can read it. If you want to follow my progress, you can follow RomanHowell on the bluebird website that begins with the letter T. That's all the clues I'll give you. You'll have to figure out which site I'm talking about from there.

I will always love fanfics and, if inspiration strikes, I'll write another. But as of today, I have completed all of my fics and I've written about half of my book about a certain Pink Devil.

Until then, I write slow, I don't write often, but when I do...

I Write Big.