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English
Series:
Part 8 of Miraculous Hive
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Published:
2024-09-20
Updated:
2025-05-02
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23,298
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11/?
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Kinship

Summary:

In the aftermath of being akumatized, the hive gathers around Chloé even as Chloé works to distance herself from her family before Zoé arrives.

Notes:

THE HIVE IS BACK. And as my 100th Miraculous Ladybug fic, no less! I really couldn't think of a better way to celebrate than giving Chloé some of the love she so desperately needs and deserves. This story picks up directly where Replica left off.

Chapter Text

“You know, if you’re not ready, we don’t have to do this now. We can just stay here and chill for a while. Watch movies. Paint our nails. Pretend asshole parents like your father don’t exist.”

Chloé raises her eyes, looking at Marinette in the mirror. Marinette is standing right behind Chloé, her arms folded over her chest, mouth set into a thin, worried frown. Tikki, who is perched on Marinette’s right shoulder, is wearing an identical expression to Marinette. Under any other circumstances, that would be funny. As it is, Chloé only manages to drudge up a tiny smile.

“He probably won’t expect me to come back so soon. So if I go today, I have a better chance of avoiding him,” Chloé explains. “I really, really don’t want to see my father. Besides, I have to go. I don’t even have any clothes to wear.”

She turns around, smoothing down the bottom half of the pink sundress she’s wearing as proof. She borrowed it from Marinette, and it’s basically the only thing that Marinette has which fits. Marinette is best described as petite, whereas Chloé is a few inches taller with wider hips and a larger bust. Literally the only reason that the pink sundress even fits Chloé is because it’s too big for Marinette, who bought it with the intension of tailoring it down to fit.

“You could wear some of Juleka’s stuff,” Marinette says. “Or Adrien’s stuff.”

“I don’t think I’ve sunk low enough to wear anything made Gabriel Agreste,” Chloé says. “And I don’t know if Juleka’s stuff would fit me either.” It might, but frankly even if it does, that’s a short-term solution for a long-term problem. Chloé has to go get her stuff from the hotel. There’s no way to get around it.

“It’ll be fine. If we run into Chloé’s dad, I’ll sting him,” Pollen pipes up from where she’s sitting on the desk. Chloé looks at her in shock.

Marinette smiles slowly, unfolding her arms. “It’s not the Cataclysm he deserves, but I approve this plan.”

“You’re spending too much time around me,” Chloé says, to which Marinette just shrugs.

“You can sneak out the window or come downstairs with me, your choice,” she says.

“We’ll go out the window.” Chloé gets up. She’s not ready to face Marinette’s parents today. She likes to think that she’s doing a pretty good job of holding it together, but truthfully every part of her feels exposed and raw. It feels like one more blow will end with Chloé falling apart irreparably; she just doesn’t know how many more times she can pull herself together.

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” Marinette says with a nod. “Come on, Tikki.”

Chloé quickly transforms into Queen Bee and crawls up onto Marinette’s bed, then out the window onto the balcony. It’s a sunny, warm morning, which feels very at odds with her current mood. She jumps over the side of the balcony to a nearby roof, then makes her way to the sidewalk in an alley. She detransforms in a flash of yellow light, where Pollen pats her cheek.

“It’ll be okay, Chloé,” she says gently, and Chloé’s throat gets tight.

“I know,” she manages. “Thanks.”

“Hey, here,” says a familiar voice from right behind Chloé, and Chloé turns around to find a large take-out cup being thrust into her face.

“Uh, what?” Chloé says, grasping the cup.

“I thought you’d need coffee more than anything today,” Juleka says. She’s wearing black jeans, black boots with purple laces, and a black-and-purple top, with her hair pulled up into a ponytail. The Tiger miraculous on her hand matches her outfit perfectly.

“You look really nice,” Chloé says, looking her up and down, and Juleka turns pink.

“You don’t have to compliment me. I’m gonna help you pack anyway,” she says, looking away and fidgeting with the two cups she’s still holding.

Chloé rolls her eyes. “That’s not why. But thanks.” She sips the coffee and gets another shock when she realizes that it’s two-thirds hot coffee and one-third milk flavored with honey, which is exactly the order Chloé always gets when she’s feeling really stressed out. An order she’s only ever given once around Juleka. She raises her eyes to Juleka with a surprised look, and Juleka grins.

“I remembered,” she says smugly.

“I – you did,” Chloé says, stunned.

“I figured you’d need it today,” Juleka says, her smile fading. “Chloé, I was thinking about his last night. How are we going to get your stuff to my place? I think it would look pretty weird for Ladybug, Queen Bee, and Artemal to be seen carrying luggage over the streets of the Paris, especially since we’d probably have to make more than one trip. And I’m a little worried that someone would follow us and figure out who I am.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll call my driver,” Chloé says. “it’s not like André will care enough to bother asking where he dropped me and my stuff off. Everything should be able to fit in the car.”

Juleka nods slowly, her expression turning pinched, but all she says is, “Okay then. Marinette is probably waiting for us, so let’s go.”

Marinette is indeed waiting for them. Juleka passes her one of the cups too, which Marinette takes with a grateful look. The two of them make light conversation as they walk to the hotel, and Chloé is grateful that neither of them seems to be expect her to participate, because she doesn’t remember a single word that they’ve said by the time they arrive at the hotel. All of her focus is on her churning stomach and how hollow she feels with every step that they take.

They enter through the hotel’s front lobby and take the elevator up to Chloé’s floor. Chloé half-expects to her father standing there against all odds as the doors swish open, but of course there’s no sign of André. The hallway is empty, and it’s simultaneously disappointing yet exactly what Chloé expected. She quietly follows Marinette and Juleka to her bedroom.

“Alright, so we should just take as much as we can, right?” Marinette says, propping her hands on her hips and looking around critically.

“Yeah,” Juleka says before Chloé can respond. “Chloé can leave it all at my place and then just pack a bag to take with her if she wants to spend the night somewhere else.”

“Umm, you don’t have to –” Chloé starts, but Marinette cuts her off.

“Juleka’s right, Chloé. That makes sense. Okay. You sit down on the bed and relax. Juleka can pack your make-up and hair stuff. I'll do your clothes. We just looked at them a little while ago and I think I remember what you wear and what you don’t,” Marinette says bossily.

“I can help,” Chloé says, somewhat exasperated, and walks over to help Marinette drag the suitcases out of the closet. Marinette huffs, only reluctantly accepting the help because a couple of the suitcases are too high up for her to safely reach. They get them down on the floor and opened, and Juleka starts filling one of them.

The real problem is that Chloé instantly feels overwhelmed as soon as she looks at her clothing. She has so much stuff. It’s impossible to know what to take and what not to take. How will she know what she wants to wear in a month’s time? How will she know what she wants to wear once winter hits? She grits her teeth against a surge of tears and the desire to sit down and cry about how unfair this is.

“Hey,” Marinette says softly, wrapping an arm around Chloé’s shoulders. “Let’s just take what you’ve worn in the past year. One of us can always come back if something is missing. Or you can buy whatever you’re missing.”

“Yeah, okay,” Chloé says, swallowing hard. “You can do the shoes. I keep whatever I’ve recently worn towards the front of the closet.”

“Got it.” Marinette walks over to the shoe rack, and Chloé faces her mountain of clothing with a painful resolve. The faster this happens, the faster they can get out of here and she can get as far away from anything having to do with her parents as possible.

It doesn’t take as long as Chloé thinks it probably should to pack it all up. In the end, her whole life ends up fitting into three suitcases, plus her bookbag and purse. Her closet barely looks touched once it’s all packed, and she realizes all over again how much stuff she’s bought over the years. Tons of clothes, shoes, make-up, and accessories that she’s never worn and never had any intention of wearing.

Just how many shopping sprees has she gone on because her father was ignoring her and she wanted to find the magic number that would make him pay attention? Too many. She even tried going a couple months without spending anything at all, thinking that a too-low number might finally catch someone’s attention. It took a while, but now Chloé knows that there is no magic number, low or high. Because André isn’t even the one who pays off the bills: he has one of his constantly revolving slew of assistants do it. The bill just gets paid every month without delay no matter how low or high it is.

“What about that?” Juleka asks curiously, and Chloé looks over at the bed. Her heart turns over in her chest when she sees her teddy bear laying on the bed, and she has to fight off a new wave of tears.

“No. I don’t want it,” she says, more shakily than she wanted to. Her father gave her that teddy bear. For a long time, she was convinced that it was a sign of how much he loved her. Now she knows it was just something that he did to look good.

Marinette and Juleka exchange looks, and their pity is almost more than Chloé can handle. She walks over to their suitcases. Pollen, who is sitting on top of one, flies up and wordlessly pats Chloé’s cheek. Chloé closes her eyes against the renewed sting of tears, her heart twisting. Hawkmoth must surely be busy, or maybe he’s decided she’s just not worth akumatizing anymore. The latter wouldn’t surprise her.

“I guess we’re ready then,” Marinette says after a beat, her voice falsely cheerful. “Did you text your driver?”

“Yeah, I did. He should be downstairs waiting,” Chloé says, grabbing the handle of one of the suitcases. She scans the room one last time, but doesn’t see anything left behind.

As they walk down to the elevator, she wonders to herself how long it’ll take her anyone to figure out that she’s gone. She frequently went whole weeks without seeing her father at all. Sometimes their paths only crossed when he needed her to attend something so they could play happy family on camera. Given that he actively wanted her gone, it could be months. It’s such a depressing thought that a tear breaks free and slides down her cheek.

Juleka grabs her free hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing so tightly that it hurts. Chloé gulps in a breath, swallowing down a sob, and squeezes back as the elevator doors open. No one pays much attention to them as they walk across the lobby; the sight of three teenaged girls with suitcases in a hotel lobby is hardly an unusual one. They walk right out the doors, down the steps, and over to where the car is waiting.

“Where to, Mademoiselle?” the driver asks, leaping out. His eyebrows furrow when he sees the suitcases and Chloé’s red eyes, but he recovers quickly enough and pops the trunk.

Anywhere but here, Chloé thinks but doesn’t say, and Juleka speaks up instead, telling the driver her address. The three of them get into the back of the car as the driver puts the suitcases and backpack into the trunk. Then he comes around and gets into the driver’s seat. Chloé turns her head, staring at the hotel. It used to be a sight that inspired satisfaction and superiority in her, but now she just feels sad and kind of lonely despite the presence of Pollen, Juleka, and Marinette.

She doesn’t belong anywhere now. It’s a thought that stings, but it’s also wrong. Because the real painful truth is, she’s never belonged anywhere at all. No one wants her. If the mayor knew what was happening right now, he would probably be happy that she’s leaving so they can bring their precious Zoé home that much sooner. Chloé closes her eyes, leans her head against the window, and quietly cries the whole way to Juleka’s house.