"Corruption doesn't care how old you are. It doesn't care about anything really; except for how much damage it can do. It has always cared about that."

— Forbidden Fruits

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

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The desert heat pricked at his skin as Chat Noir wandered through the boisterous market of Tumbleweed Valley. He passed stand after stand, each man managing his booth waving their arms at him or trying to shove whatever product they were selling right in his face. Most of them sold weapons you couldn't find anywhere else, and anyone was eligible to buy them—as long as you had coin in your pocket. Others sold drugs that could be more valuable than gold coin itself. What people would acquire to get said drugs... he knew that could lead to death.

Chat Noir never did business in Tumbleweed Valley. He didn't care if he was without a weapon. He would travel across the entire desert without a pistol on his belt or a knife in his hand before he ever considered giving any of these men any more coin than necessary. Paying for the rooms for the night had been bad enough. Watching the greedy grin spread across Lotto's face had only reminded him of the past—back when his parents had done too much business in Tumbleweed Valley and had paid the price for it.

What bothered him the most wasn't the lack of trustworthiness from the people of Tumbleweed Valley. It was their lack of loyalty that boiled his blood. They were only there to lend a hand when it benefited them. But as soon as they could gain nothing, well, you were on your own.

And that's exactly what happened to his parents.

How Chat Noir and Kit even managed to escape, he still wouldn't know. To this day, he simply considered it luck. Back then, he'd been a frightened little child suddenly burdened with having to care for his sister in a world that had no remorse for their situation. Now, the same people who once discarded him had fear crawling up their arms whenever he passed.

To his right, a woman called out to him with several linens draped over her arms. She was offering robes for the desert heat. He briefly glanced at the array of colors she had to offer. Perhaps, despite his great dislike for spending money in Tumbleweed Valley, he would purchase one for Marinette. Heaven knows the desert sun was treating her harshly.

So, he did. He continued on his way with a red robe draped over his arm. He would lecture himself for giving into the merchantries bribing tactics later. For now, he would relish the fact that this purchase would be beneficial.

Another stand up ahead came into view. It was a food stand covered with roasted meats. His mouth watered just at the sight of it, but instead of purchasing roasted pork, he simply turned his head away, ignoring the pitiful rumbling in his stomach.

Briefly, he considered stealing some—which he knew he would have no problem doing. But the last thing he needed was to be caught stealing in Tumbleweed Valley. Not only would he doom himself, but he would doom his comrades and Marinette. He wasn't about to put their lives on the line.

So, he faired being hungry, and slowly made his way back towards his room.

When he returned, the sun was just beginning to set. His men were all hunkered down in their rooms, having no intention of enjoying the false pleasantries of what Tumbleweed Valley had to offer. As the door to his room slowly creaked open, he was greeted with darkness, along with a petite woman curled into a ball on the bed, fast asleep.

His heart swelled at the sight... but mostly in guilt. He discarded her without even a second thought. He left her in this darkness all alone. Sighing in frustration, he closed the door behind him and moved hastily across the room. Plucking the pack of matches hidden deeply in his back pocket, he lit the lantern atop the nightstand.

Then, he lay beside her on the bed and turned on his side, facing her. Too deep in sleep, Marinette didn't stir when the bed dipped. Her eyes didn't even twitch. Her breathing remained labored as she slept, and he couldn't find it in himself to look away as he watched her peacefully rest.

What he would give to be able to hold her in his arms...

He slowly frowned at that selfish thought. He had no right... absolutely no right...

And yet, his desire to hold her remained there, having yet to cease.

Frustrated with himself, he turned on his back. Above him, the old ceiling of the room was chipped in several places, in need of a new fresh coat of paint. The room reeked of old people and moths. Even the walls looked like they were about to collapse.

He shouldn't have paid that bloody crook a cent!

The sudden movement beside him averted his mind elsewhere. Turning back on his side, he couldn't help but blink owlishly when a pair of blue-bell eyes greeted him in the dimly lit room. Tiredness still laced her irises as she stared at him, but she seemed neither surprised nor angry to find him beside her.

He found himself apologizing, nonetheless. "Sorry..." he whispered breathlessly in the little space between them. "Did I wake you?"

She shook her head against the pillow. He couldn't help but smile softly at the sight.

Barely above a whisper, she asked, "When did you return?"

"Not too long ago." He replied just as quietly. The urge to wrap his arms around her suddenly resurfaced, more intense than before, and he had to do everything in his power to keep his arms tucked underneath his pillow.

She hummed, returning his smile sweetly. She didn't say anything else in response, but she didn't need to. Just having her there beside him was already lifting his spirits more than a walk through that bloody town ever could.

His smile turned a bit bitter as the thoughts of his sudden leave hours prior resurfaced, though. "I wanted to apologize for my abrupt exit earlier." A sigh left his lips. "I suppose it was a bit... ill-mannered of me."

Marinette's eyes softened. It was then that he realized she held no anger towards him. "Were you able to clear your head like you had hoped?"

"No," he admitted truthfully, "Whenever I am at this place... I sometimes lose the ability to remain focused. You shouldn't mind it much unless I treat you unfairly. Then, you can lecture me if need be."

She chuckled, a small toothy grin pulling at those perfect, kissable lips of hers. "I shall keep that in mind."

He matched her grin, realizing that even with the heaviness that weighed on him, her smile could push that negativity into the back of his mind in a matter of seconds.

Her smile sobered a bit though, when she asked, "Why does this place make you feel so uneasy?"

His smile fell entirely at that. Could he share a bit of himself with her tonight regarding the horrors this place reminded him of? Did he even want to be the one to corrupt her mind with such nightmares?

Marinette seemed to sense his inner turmoil. She instantly tried to reach out to him with her words. "You don't have to tell me. I shouldn't pry—"

"Nonsense. It was a valid question." He quickly interrupted her. "It's just that... what I might say will probably seem... disturbin'. Are you sure you wish to know?"

She didn't need a moment to consider it. She eagerly nodded and then she quickly shifted, scooting even closer towards him. Their bodies were now probably only inches apart, their breaths involuntarily mingling. Chat Noir inhaled a sharp breath.

He never expected in a million years to be so close to her...

"Tell me." She breathed out. It was enough to make a grown man weak in the knees.

Not him, of course. But any other grown man. He wasn't weak in the knees...

But he was completely and utterly mesmerized by her.

He exhaled slowly, his audible sigh being the only thing to follow the silence. "My parents did lots of business in this town." He began rather quietly, "They used to bring my sister and I along when we were youngins as they did their biddin'."

"What was their occupation?"

He swallowed heavily, "They were bounty hunters... probably the best in all the west. Ironic, really, considerin' they were wanted criminals themselves, but they made good coin catchin' other bandits and stickin' them behind bars. We relied on that reward coin."

A moment of silence passed between them. "What happened to them?" Marinette asked.

Chat Noir pressed his lips together. In order to tell that story, he would have to reveal her involvement in it—something she was not even aware of. His parents were gone because of how determined they were to keep her safe. No one expected a man like the Reaper to emerge from the shadows, and no one was prepared for what he had to bring to the table.

"They came face-to-face with the Reaper." The name rolled off his tongue in bitterness. "Back then, he was only a couple years older than me, still a child, and yet, he somehow held so much power in his hand. No one feared him. In fact, many laughed at him. My parents were foolish not to fear him. Now as an adult, the Reaper is considered to be one of the most ruthless outlaws to have ever existed out in these parts."

He felt Marinette's shudder. "How could a child be so evil?"

"Corruption doesn't care how old you are."

Her eyes slowly softened in sympathy. He didn't quite like when those looks were directed at him, but he didn't have the heart to tell her to stop. Instead, he smiled sadly, unsure of what else he could say.

"I'm sorry..." Marinette broke the silence with one of the most sincerest apologies he had ever heard in his life, and it shocked him. "For so long I always assumed bandits were driven simply by their greed—but I was so wrong. Most of you were raised this way and this is all you know. I'm sorry for making such assumptions."

"You have nothin' to apologize for." He assured her. "I told you once before that you were not the only one to think such things."

"Yes, but just like everyone else, I've been content with being ignorant." Marinette said mournfully, "I could have looked for the truth, but instead I quickly believed what others told me."

"It's easy to rely on what others say as truth." Chat Noir replied softly. Without even realizing it, his gloved hand had slid along the sheets, finding hers. Their fingers interlocked on their own, as if they belonged there, together—as if the motion was so familiar. He was too focused on trying to take away her guilt to fluster over the contact. "You shouldn't feel guilty for somethin' you cannot change. Instead, learn from it, and do what you can to make a difference."

Her blue-bell eyes fluttered upward, finding his emerald green. There was still uncertainty clouded in her irises.

He gently squeezed her hand. "You're here now, slowly unwrappin' the truth. That counts for somethin', doesn't it?"

Her lips quirked upright to the left. "I could uncover the truth a lot faster if you simply told me why you took me."

Her words were meant to be teasing but hearing them only wiped the smile he wore completely off his lips. With a remorseful sigh, he pulled away from her. "It's not that simple."

"You always do that." Marinette tried to chase after him by scooting closer. "Every time I bring it up, you completely shut down. I don't understand it."

"It's not somethin' you need to understand."

She huffed. "Because you won't let me."

"With good reason." He insisted sternly, and in frustration, quickly turned on his side to face her once more. However, because she had scooted closer, his forehead touched hers, and this time, their noses were merely inches apart. A shuddered gasp escaped him—mostly in shock—but his eyes refused to waver as they stared into hers. She stared back with a sense of determination... however, something else was written in those deep eyes of hers; something he couldn't quite pinpoint.

He swallowed nervously, "I...I-I'm doin' this to protect you. The less you know the safer you will be. For this instance and this instance only, ignorance is a good thing."

"What if I don't want to be ignorant anymore?" She whispered softly. Her breath tickled his skin, sending chills spiraling down his spine.

He licked his lips. "I... don't have an answer for that."

Marinette let out a sigh of disappointment. Then, she closed her eyes and pulled away, and as much as he was bummed to have their close proximity ruined, he was also relieved. He exhaled in relief, watching as she moved to turn on her other side, her back now facing him.

She was upset, but there was nothing he could do unless he told her the truth, and now just wasn't that time. When they returned to his base and home, he would tell her everything she desired to know. For now, while they traveled through this rough terrain amongst other thieves and with the Reaper close behind, he didn't want to risk anything. Once they were safe in his home, he would tell her everything.

Including that he was madly in love with her... and had been since they were children.

He let out an audible sigh. "When we reach our destination, I will answer any questions you have, includin' why I took you. I swear it."

Slowly, she turned to face him once again, her expression open. "You're certain?"

He nodded against his pillow. He wouldn't dare lie to her. "You have my word."

A smile slowly stretched across her lips. It was a sight he felt pride in being able to pull out of her. Once again, he matched her smile, truly glad to be sharing this moment beside her.

And then, she surprised him once more when she launched herself at him, wrapping her arm around his waist and burying her face into his chest.

His cheeks turned beet red, and his fingers burned as they brushed along the fabric of her dress. His brain seemed to be unable to function as she hugged him, and therefore, his response to her embrace was delayed. But Marinette didn't seem to mind in the slightest. He was led to believe she even found it rather humorous when he felt her smile against his skin.

Nonetheless, he was eventually able to properly wrap his arms around her and fall asleep with one of the widest smiles he'd ever worn in his life.

»»☆««

The following morning, Chat Noir was awoken by the sound of someone's fist pounding on his room door. Grumbling, he threw a pillow over his head. The room was still too dark, leading him to believe that the sun hadn't even made it over the horizon yet. Who in their right mind would try to wake him at such an ungodly hour?

Beside him, Marinette groaned. Clearly, she wasn't too thrilled either by the rude awakening. With an already oncoming headache, Chat Noir forced himself out of bed. Marinette's eyes were still sealed shut with pinched brows narrowed above when he glanced down at her. He decided to pull the covers up to her shoulders, smiling warmly when she instantly relaxed underneath them.

Another obnoxious knock sounded. It was enough to send his smile to hell.

Grudgingly, he sauntered towards the door. He was prepared to give the madman who interrupted his sleep a little piece of his mind.

Instead, he went wide-eyed, when his sister was revealed on the other side of the door.

"Kit?" His eyes followed her as she silently moved past him and inside the room without explanation. He shut the door behind her with a soft click. "What the hell are you doin' knockin' so damn loud at this time?"

"I needed to talk to ya." She spoke. He watched as her eyes briefly spared a glance at Marinette's sleeping figure. She scoffed, "Preferably alone."

"And I would prefer to still be asleep right now, but I suppose we can't always have what we want." Chat Noir folded his arms across his chest. "So, what do you want?"

Kit turned to glare at him. It was almost as if her eyes could glow in the darkness. "One of the Reaper's goonies has been spotted in town."

"What?" Chat Noir blanched. "How is that possible?"

Kit shrugged. "I dunno. All I know is that he knows you're here, and he also knows what kind of cargo you've got taggin' along with the lot of us."

Chat Noir spared a glance at the woman sleeping peacefully in his bed, utmost worry for her well-being clouding his irises. They were supposed to be ten steps ahead of the Reaper and yet somehow, he was still right behind them.

His expression quickly turned cold. "Has the Reaper been spotted at all?"

"Nah. I'd say that makes us a lucky bunch."

"Good. The man is most likely a scout sent up ahead. How was this man even made aware that Marinette is a part of our precious cargo?"

"He got a tip." Kit replied gruffly, "I'm guessin' from the man who gave ya a key to this dump."

Damn Lotto. He should've known that greedy innkeeper would open his bloody mouth to someone the moment he laid his eyes on Marinette.

"Want us to take care of him?" Kit pounded a closed fist into the palm of her other hand. Of course, she was eager to jump into action—too eager, especially when it concerned getting on the bad side of someone out in these parts. Looking for trouble in Tumbleweed Valley was never a good idea.

"Absolutely not. The last thing I need is to have unnecessary blood on my hands. No, for now, we keep our heads low. I would say we just leave now, but it will draw suspicion from the locals, and the last thing I need is more eyes on us."

"So, ya just want us to sit here?" Kit scoffed at the notion. "I say we take out the goonie and cut off that loose end."

"And by 'take out', you mean kill." Chat Noir narrowed his eyes at her dangerously. "The last thing you want to do in Tumbleweed Valley is kill someone, Kit. Very rarely does a man ever get away with it when the person who was murdered obtains so many allies."

"What 'bout a woman?"

He offered her a deadpan stare. "Very amusin'."

She chuckled, but there was no amount of humor behind it. "What's amusin' to me is that ya just want to sit here. My brother isn't known to just wait 'round for his enemies."

"Your brother also isn't known to make reckless decisions." Chat Noir's glare deepened.

"How is this reckless?!"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe 'cause you want to murder an innocent man!"

"'Innocent?' Don't make me laugh." She let out a bitter chuckle despite of that. "There ain't nothin' innocent 'bout a man who works for the likes of the Reaper."

"Most who work for the Reaper are victims or have threats hangin' over their heads... you know that as well as I do."

Kit folded her arms across her chest. "Don't mean they should be spared. Actions got consequences."

"That's ironic, considerin' what you just suggested we should do."

A huff left his sister's lips at that, but she wouldn't dare argue against it, because she knew he was right. As much as he preferred to have the upper hand when it concerned his enemies, his hands were pretty much tied if he wished to keep his men, his sister, and Marinette safe.

He exhaled slowly, "You are not to engage in any type of violence, Kit."

With a shake of her head, she scoffed loudly. That caused him to narrow his eyes even further. "I mean it, Kit. If I find out you went against my word—"

"Yeah, yeah. I got it. I won't." She waved him off.

He considered her answer to be satisfactory enough. Sighing heavily through his nose, he asked, "Where have you been anyway? Where did you sleep last night?"

"With Miles." And then her eyes widened in horror when she realized how bad that answer sounded. "I mean—no! Not with him like that! I slept in his room, on the floor—!"

"I get it." Chat Noir quickly cut her off. He did not want to think about the possibility of his baby sister getting cozy with any guy, no matter how realistic the idea was.

Kit quickly cleared her throat. "Now I'm uncomfortable, so I'm gonna leave."

He also awkwardly cleared his throat. "Good idea."

She shouldered past him rather quickly, having no intention of lingering around. Briefly, he realized he needed to have a word with Miles regarding just how close he was allowed to be with his sister. Preferably maintaining a ten-foot distance seemed radical enough.

He kept his back facing her as she opened the door. However, when the light from the rising sun remained inside the room, he turned around, only to find his sister standing under the doorframe with one of his men in front of her, fist raised as if he were about to knock.

He quickly lowered his hand. "Sorry, sir. I didn't realize you had company—"

Kit suddenly shouldered past him as well without a word, cutting the poor man off and causing him to stumble off to the side to avoid being slammed into. His wide eyes followed her retreating figure in absolute bewilderment.

"Don't mind her." Chat Noir told the man sternly, "Now, what is it?"

The man cleared his throat and regained his composure as he turned to face Chat Noir once more. "Word of Lady Marinette's presence is spreadin' 'cross the town like wildfire. You might say an... old acquaintance of yours is eager to take her off your hands."

"I'm sure they are." Chat Noir ground out. He had a lot of old acquaintances, many who, along with the Reaper, wanted Marinette and her name's wealth for themselves. "Who exactly are we speakin' of?"

"An old buddy of yours from the North." The man answered. "Carter Grimes."

The name instantly left a bitter taste in Chat Noir's mouth. He should've known Carter Grimes would've slithered his way out of the last hole Chat Noir dumped him in the moment he heard of Marinette's newfound freedom far far away from Deadwood.

"Where is the bloody bastard now?"

"He's in the town square... he's waitin' for you there."

Chat Noir scoffed at that. "Carter Grimes has never been a patient man. He never waits without a reason. So, why does he want to meet me there?"

The man hesitated before saying, "...He plans to challenge you to a duel. He made sure we... passed the word of 'Pistols at Dawn' along."

"Of course he did." Chat Noir couldn't help but chuckle. "Only a fool like him would gather a crowd to witness his failure."

"So, you plan to accept the duel then?"

"I plan to do more than that. I plan to win it."

"And what of your future bride?" The man quietly gestured to Marinette with a quick jerk of his head. Chat Noir slowly turned to look at her. She remained peacefully asleep, completely unaware of what was unfolding. "Shouldn't she be present to watch the duel?"

"Absolutely not." Chat Noir practically snapped. "I do not intend to even make her aware of this. What you will do is gather a few men to keep watch over her. She is not to leave this room under any circumstances."

The man seemed surprised. "But sir, with all due respect, isn't it custom for a man's bride to be present durin' her husband's duel should he fall—?"

"Are you implyin' I'll be losin' this duel?"

"N-No sir," the man swallowed, "I only speak out of precaution."

The man spoke the truth, no matter how much Chat Noir wished to deny it. Practicing caution around Carter Grimes was definitely advised. The man was known to do whatever it took to get what he wanted—including playing dirty. There was a good chance Carter would try to cheat his way through the duel. Knowing this, Chat Noir would have to be extra careful.

"Your concern is greatly appreciated," Chat Noir placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "But to turn away from such a challenge will mark me as a coward and will jeopardize Marinette's safety. That is my number one concern right now, and therefore, should be yours. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now," Chat Noir turned around, heading for the back of the room where his revolver hung on his belt. He buckled it around his waist. Then, he smirked at the man. "Fetch me the vest. If Carter Grimes intends to cheat, I intend to match him."

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I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter just as much as I enjoyed writing it! See you again on 9/9/2022!

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