Chapter Text
“I’ve waited so long for this,” Chat Noir whispered, holding up his palm.
“Don’t be upset if it doesn’t work at first. The notes in the book said it could take a couple of tries,” Marinette warned him, keeping her hand held back for a moment. “If it doesn’t happen tonight, we’ll try again when you feel stronger.”
“I feel plenty strong.” The ghost gave his translucent clawed hand a little shake as if to encourage her and Marinette huffed in fond exasperation.
“Chat, you said you would be patient. What if we messed something up with the spell?” She glanced down at the worn book on the floor beside her. “I don’t even know if I did this right. I'm just reading words in a book. Alya said this was the closest thing to a summoning spell she could find but you were already here so I don’t know if–”
“Let’s do this,” he grinned, teeth glinting in the moonlight.
Marinette swallowed her trepidation and nodded, finally reaching her hand out to his. She held her breath and tried not to get her hopes up as their palms neared each other. She could feel cold against her skin and then Chat Noir’s hand was fading through hers with an accompanying growl.
He snatched his hand back and paced away from her.
“It’s okay, Chat.”
“No, it’s not.”
“I’ll find something different to try.” Marinette picked up the spellbook and began to flip through it.
“What if there’s nothing?”
“There’s probably something…” She worried her bottom lip and flipped through the pages. “You aren’t the first ghost, you know. We just have to find something that will help you move on.”
Chat Noir didn’t respond but his tail lashed out behind him in irritation. Marinette had been nothing but kind since she’d stumbled upon him months ago. Her visits had been weekly at first and then transitioned into daily visits and after years of loneliness, it had been like being presented with a feast of company. All he’d wanted was to be free of the prison he’d been cursed to in his afterlife and now…
And now the thought of not seeing Marinette everyday burned at him. He didn’t know what there was beyond but he knew that she was here and that was enough.
Not that he could say that to her, of course.
She’d been working so hard, studying ghosts and magic and anything she could get her hands on that might be helpful to him. She’d offered to try to find psychics and mediums but he’d been able to talk her out of that, at least. He couldn’t remember much about his life but he knew he didn’t want to think on it too hard. The feelings of the memories weren’t pleasant on the surface and he doubted delving deeper into them would be any better.
“I’m really sorry,” she was saying as he snapped out of his thoughts. “Maybe I pronounced something wrong. I was mostly just trying to sound the Latin out.”
“It’s okay, Marinette. I appreciate everything you do for me.” He dropped to the floor beside her, feeling himself sink through the hardwood a little. “What did you bring to eat tonight?”
“Always so interested in my food,” she teased, setting the book aside and reaching for her bag. “Just a sandwich tonight. Nothing too exciting.”
“For a guy who hasn’t eaten in…who knows how long, a sandwich sounds heavenly.”
“I thought you said you didn’t feel hunger.”
“I don’t,” he shrugged. “Not really. I think I miss the act of eating though, if that makes sense.”
Marinette took a thoughtful bite of her sandwich and nodded. “I found another news article about you this morning. Apparently you were quite the mystery hero. It looked like there was a whole group of you out there helping people. I tried to find information on the others but there wasn't much to go on.”
He smiled a little. “I have these fuzzy memories of staying in the shadows but being really happy I could help people.”
“I bet you were great.”
“So great I ended up a ghost stuck here for the last twenty or so years,” he sighed. “I’ve been dead as long as I was alive now.”
“Wow.”
“You didn’t realize?”
She frowned. “I guess not.” She brought her sandwich up for another bite but then set it back down without taking one. “Chat, did you die here?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I guess I must’ve, right? Why else would I be stuck in this house?”
“Have you ever looked?”
“For my body?” He blinked in surprise. “Sure. I never found it though.”
“And you don’t remember the man who lived here before?”
“The first clear memory I have is waking up in the big room at the top of the stairs. A few real estate agents came and went but no one could see me and then…and then it was just me.”
“Until I came.”
“Until you came,” he conceded, feeling his chest warm. “You’ve kind of been the best thing to ever happen to me.” He watched pink rush across her cheeks in fascination. He loved seeing her blush. Pink was such a pretty color on her.
“I promise I’m going to help you find peace.”
He wanted to tell her he had found peace. He wanted to say that she was his peace now and he didn’t need anything else. But he couldn’t say that. He couldn’t keep her anchored to this house just because he was. So instead, he placed his hand as close to hers as he could without touching and said, “Thank you.”