"To lose someone you love is truly a devastating thing. But for them to never know that you loved them is what makes your loss all the more agonizing."

— Forbidden Fruits

CHAPTER SEVEN

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After their stop at the river, Chat Noir and his hoard of men road until the sun began to set. He decided to settle in a clearing amongst the wasteland desert which was an advantage for those who had shifts to keep watch that night. It was also an advantage for himself in order to keep a closer eye on Marinette.

There were many reasons why Chat Noir chose to pair his own sister with Marinette. For one, he didn't trust most of his men to remain respectful, and if one of them were to even consider looking at Marinette the wrong way... well... Chat Noir would have lived up to the murderer part of his reputation. Secondly, he figured Marinette would be more comfortable being handled by a woman rather than one of his men or even himself.

But from the look on Marinette's face, he'd been wrong. All he had to do was glance at her for a second to know that something was wrong, and it didn't take him more than a minute to figure out that her bleeding lip was caused because his sister was being incredibly nasty.

He knew Kit had her reasons for disliking her, though he wouldn't say those reasons were valid to take out on Marinette. Marinette was one of the people Kit blamed for their parents' deaths. He would always be on the top of her list when it came to blaming others though, because she also continued to accuse him for choosing Marinette over their parents... which wasn't a choice he ever made. It was never about choosing someone over the other. To him, it had always been about doing the right thing.

Even now, he was risking everything to keep Marinette off of the Reaper's radar.

Since the first time he had ever saved Marinette's life, Chat Noir vowed two things. One, he would never tell Marinette of the events from which he spared her, and two, he would always do the same for any innocent being ever caught in the Reaper's sights. However, he sometimes found himself doubting whether or not that second one was actually true. He knew the main reason why he went to such great lengths to protect Marinette was because he liked her, but would he have done the same for someone he disliked?

His parents would have.

Chat Noir sighed dejectedly. There was too much on his mind. He needed to clear his head, but first, he needed to a have word with Kit.

A fire was built not a moment past sunset by some of his men, which dimly illuminated their campsite rather well. Blankets were laid out as many decided to hit the sack rather early. From afar, he watched with narrowed, calculated eyes as his sister prepared the spot where Marinette would be sleeping for the night. His eyes shifted over towards Marinette several times during the last interaction she shared with his sister that night, studying her body language mostly.

What he discovered were two things. One, Marinette seemed incredibly on edge and possibly frightened, and two, he'd never seen her like that before.

Perhaps she was right before—he didn't know everything about her.

He watched as Marinette finally laid her head down. The chill the desert night blessed them with caused her to toss and turn for what felt like ages, until eventually, her body finally stilled and her breathing became regulated. Once he figured she was fast asleep, Chat Noir made his approach. On the outskirts of the fire (where Kit had coincidentally forced Marinette to sleep) it was darker, allowing him to blend easily in the night. Just as Kit was about to take her leave to set her blanket closer to the fire, he grabbed a hold of her arm.

Of course, the unexpected contact startled her. "What the hell!" She shoved him back in the chest, her exclamation thankfully a hissed whisper lest she wake Marinette. "Ya just scared the shit outta me! What are ya doin'?!"

"What are you doin'?" He countered in all seriousness. Every word that fell from his tongue reeked of disappointment, and he was certain she was aware of it. "Why is she sleepin' all the way out here?"

"She's the prisoner," Kit said with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. "What did ya expect?"

"I expect her to be treated like the human being that she is, not an animal."

Kit scoffed at that. She hiked her blanket further up her shoulder. "Since when have ya ever cared about where the prisoner sleeps? Last I checked, prisoners don't got no right to be all cozy and warm by the fire."

Chat Noir simply raised his brows, his expression entirely unfazed... for now. "Let's get somethin' straight before you continue runnin' your mouth. She is not our prisoner. She is our guest."

"Is that right?" Kit crackled a breathy laugh at that. "Does she know that? Or better yet, does anyone here know that? 'Cause that speech ya gave back at the inn was pretty clear on what ya think of her, and rather convincin' too, might I add."

Chat Noir spared a somber glance at the woman they were speaking of. Marinette looked so angelic as she slept, so at peace from the hardships she had endured thus far. He wanted nothing more than the best for her because he had no ill will towards her. He wasn't consumed with bitterness and hatred like his sister was. He wasn't vengeful unless it was well-deserved.

But Marinette didn't deserve any of this. She didn't know that she was a part of something that had destroyed another's family. She wasn't even aware that her existence had caused such pain.

Another shiver racked Marinette's body a moment later and the lines of his forehead crinkled, his heart instantly yearning to be her warmth. But with that thought came the disappointing truth: that they were strangers, two halves from a completely different world. He had no right to have such thoughts. He had no right to even think he could one day be that warmth that she might desire from a significant other. He simply had no right.

But he did know one thing for certain: his mission was to protect her. He would do everything in his power to do such. He would do everything in his power to keep her safe.

"I said what I had to say." His eyes remained focused on Marinette's sleeping form as he said this. When his eyes turned to meet his sister's once again, his gaze was stern. "Sometimes it is one's actions that speak louder than one's words."

"Your actions rather matched your words earlier, oh wise one. Ya tied the bloody princess to a chair, don't'cha remember that?"

He spared his sister a blank expression. His actions then had all been a show, and she was well aware of that. Without a word, he slowly, and with quiet steps, moved towards Marinette. He kneeled down on the tips of his toes, his concerned eyes surveying her cold and sleeping form. With only a thin blanket underneath her and another poorly thrown over her lithe figure, she would most likely freeze to death before the sun even had a chance to rise the following morning. With a grunt, he effortlessly lifted her into his arms, carrying her bridal style. He kept her blankets wrapped around her as he drew her nearer to his chest. His eyes met his sister's which were already narrowed pointedly at him.

He matched her look, his more terrifying than any she could ever muster.

"The last thing I want is her blood on my hands." He said coldly, meaning every word he said with such a fond sincerity. "Her death would bring no satisfaction to me."

The truth he spoke was the truest he'd ever been in his life, he was sure of it.

"It would bring satisfaction to me," Kit said with little effort. Her tone held no remorse. "Do my desires mean nothin' to ya?"

He didn't even blink as he said, "Your tactics of manipulation are leavin' me to question if I made the mistake of allowin' you to accompany me on such a heist. Your words are even beginnin' to sound treasonous."

"Treasonous?" His sister's smug expression instantly fell, revealing her quick recovery to regain his liking, lest she be sent home. "I can assure ya that ya did not make any mistakes—"

"Then stop tryin' to enact your revenge on the wrong people."

His sister's eyes averted to her feet in humiliation. He had no remorse for embarrassing her. "It would be in your best interest to put your feelin's aside regardin' our deceased parents for now and focus on what must be done." He said sternly. "When the time is right, you shall be granted the opportunity to enact your revenge on the one who truly deserves it."

He didn't need to say his name for her to understand who he meant. The Reaper deserved every ounce of hatred his sister clung to. Perhaps he too would allow his own revenge to resurface when the time was right, but for now, he would remain focused on keeping Marinette safe.

"From now on, Marinette will no longer be assigned under your care since I cannot trust you to treat her civilly." Chat Noir said sternly. He watched his sister easily deflate. "I shall care for her myself."

"As ya secretly wanted from the beginning..." his sister grumbled out under her breath.

But Chat Noir heard it clearly and raised a brow. "Perhaps you haven't learned just yet what the consequences of your words can cause you."

That was enough to leave his sister speechless. She ducked her head instead, away from his scrutinizing glare.

"Go claim your spot by the fire." He commanded coldly. "We shall speak 'bout a proper punishment for you in the mornin'."

With a timid nod, his sister hiked her blanket higher up her shoulder and shouldered past him, no argument passing her lips. He watched as she slowly lumbered towards the fire, where the rest of his men either currently slept or kept watch. Chat Noir followed after her a moment later with Marinette still sound asleep in his arms.

Or so he thought.

As Chat Noir laid Marinette down in a vacant spot, he was made aware that the young woman hadn't actually been asleep. She'd been pretending.

And when her squinted eyes met his, well... her cover was blown.

She opened her eyes fully, blinking up at him. He merely stared back.

Her eyes were beautiful. He found it almost impossible not to stare into them and wonder what she might be thinking.

He didn't have to wonder for long, though. Marinette cleared her throat when the silence between them had stretched on for too long. "Don't think that just because you stood up for me that I'm going to be grateful."

Chat Noir's blank expression didn't twist in the slightest. Instead, he turned his head, giving her a nice view of his side profile as he tossed a small log into the fire. The flames rose and crackled. "You have no need to worry. I don't expect anythin' besides hatred from you."

"As you should." Marinette huffed out stubbornly. Her response didn't make any sense... other than her need to have the last word.

That thought had him grinning, even if he was facing the fire. He leaned back against a giant log beside Marinette, who had already wrapped herself up in her blankets and was lying down in the dirt. He remained sitting upright beside her, his elbows resting on his perched knees. All around them, several of his men were quietly chatting with one another, some even laughing as jokes were passed along the campfire.

The sight had Chat Noir smiling. These men were like a second family to him. He'd rescued most of them from situations that would've had their heads in a noose. To see them here prospering now was an accomplishment in itself.

He busied himself by trying to steer his thoughts away from the woman beside him. When the silence between them remained for quite some time, he thought she'd finally fallen asleep.

But he'd been wrong once again.

"Why did you really take me, Chat Noir?"

Now that was a question he hadn't been expecting because he had figured his lie back at the inn would've been a believable one, especially for her. Remaining entirely nonchalant, he tilted his head slightly to look at her out of the corner of his eye. Marinette was already looking up at him expectantly, her cheek resting on her folded arms.

"I know it isn't because of the money." She said when he remained silent. "I might be a woman, but I'm not stupid."

An easy-going grin pulled at the corner of his lips. Oh, he knew she was intelligent. With a light chuckle, his gaze turned back to the fire. "I never said you were, milady."

"Quit calling me that and just answer the question. Why did you take me?"

"You have quite the nerve to make demands in your position." His stern voice returned, the careless smile on his lips slowly fading into the abyss. "I don't need to tell you why, but I will say that you will thank me for it someday."

"You wish." Marinette scoffed at that. She turned her head away from him a moment later, her gaze following his out to the fire. "I will never thank you for anything."

"And perhaps that is your problem." Chat Noir replied with a thoughtful hum. "I could've left you to rot underneath that woman's care, but instead, I saved you. In fact, I even defended you, and not once have you even considered givin' your thanks. I suppose that makes you ungrateful."

"I never asked for you to defend me."

Chat Noir shook his head in amusement. "And alas, you've proven my point."

Marinette turned her head to look at him again. He did not return the gesture. "Perhaps if you would've left me alone, you wouldn't have needed to waste your time saving me. And you dare to call me ungrateful? No sane person would ever be grateful for their kidnapper."

The bandit simply relaxed his shoulders and leaned further back against the log. To continue such silly banter with her would be pointless. As Kit had once said, everyone in Deadwood would forever consider him to be a monster... including Marinette, and perhaps his sister was right.

He wanted to believe it was simply her ignorance. He wanted to believe that if Marinette knew the truth, she would treat him differently and perhaps see him in a new light. But what if he was wrong? What if, even despite knowing the truth, her hatred for him only grew?

What if she always saw him as a monster?

These thoughts brought a grimace to his lips. A moment later his head leaned back, his gaze surveying the stars above them.

He broke the silence between them with a long, contented sigh. "Perhaps once you discover why you were kidnapped, you'll be grateful it wasn't someone else who got to you before I did."

"Ha!" She shook her head in disbelief. "Is there some kind of contest throughout the west to see who can kidnap me first?" She asked with a sarcastic laugh.

"Of some sort, yes." Chat Noir didn't even bother to hesitate with an honest answer. His eyes fluttered closed as a cool breeze gently pushed its way through the campsite, gently whipping through his golden locks.

He didn't see it, but he was certain her expression blanched at his honesty. "You're—you're serious?" Her voice was trembling slightly.

"I have no reason to lie." He answered coolly.

In truth, Marinette had no idea just how serious he was. Secluded in a small, deserted town all her life, she had no idea what the rest of the world was like, or just how corrupted most of the people in it were. He wasn't the only sly bandit lurking in the desert mountains, and he certainly wasn't the worst. There were plenty of men just like him out there who envied to have Marinette at their side, for one reason and one reason only: her father's riches.

The man who sat at the top of that list was the Reaper, and he was the most dangerous out of them all.

Marinette frowned slightly as she considered that. Her lips pulled up into a confused pout. "But why me? Surely there are other women like I, daughters to wealthy men?"

"Did you not insist earlier that you were not a stupid woman? Put that brain of yours to use and think." He briefly glanced at her, his emerald irises sparkling in the darkness. "I told you before that names are very powerful."

It took her a moment before she seemed to understand. Her eyes widened, if not fearfully, then he wasn't sure what emotion. "Because I am a Dupain-Cheng, and I am the only woman alive who bears that name."

"Indeed." Chat Noir nodded.

"So, I am the reason why you people are so infatuated with my father's wealth?"

Chat Noir tried to stifle a chuckle, but he couldn't, much to his dismay. She was able to witness a smile pull at the corners of his lips despite him trying to remain nonchalant. "Anyone who is poor envies the rich."

"But why my father specifically?"

"'Cause he's the wealthiest man in all the land, and his prize possession is you."

"I can assure you my father deems my brothers to be more important than I." The words left her lips bitterly, spat out like a bad apple. "Surely I cannot be his prize possession. If that were true, he would make it seem like he cared for me, even if it were just some sort of slight acknowledgment."

"You are," Chat Noir insisted. He was no longer looking at her, instead, his gaze once again cast on the flames in front of them. "Sometimes, we don't know what our prize possessions are until we lose them."

He was actually surprised when she remained silent to that, no rebuttal on the tip of her tongue to throw at him, as if his words had impacted her in some way. When he chose to discreetly glance at her out of the corner of his eye, he saw that her gaze had followed his out to the fire, her raging irises soaking in the beauty of the flames. She was sitting upright beside him now, her blankets pulled up to the crook of her neck.

His gaze turned forward for the last time that night.

They sat beside each other in silence, the wood crackling beneath the flames being the only sound that tore in between them, but it seemed, even without another word being spoken, that they had come to an unspoken agreement.

You never know what you have until it's truly gone.

_______________________________

Hellooo again. The little break I had was nice (didn't realize how much I needed it), but I'm backkkk. Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!

See you guys in the next update on May 13th, 2022!

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