A/N: oops. I was too excited and mistook chapter three (Shadow) for chapter five by looking at the a/ns. Sowwy.

Edited.

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Adrien's P.O.V

I slowly sat down on my chair, wincing as pain flared up and down my back.

"Hey, you okay?" Nino asked, and I smiled, though it was more of a grimace.

"Yeah. I fell asleep on the floor last night. Guess I should have expected it," I said, and shifted into a less painful position.

"Marinette, finally you-oh my goodness!" Miss Bustier (a/n: I finally remembered her name) gasped. I turned around and my eyes widened.

Marinette's normally bright blue eyes were swollen and bloodshot, complete with lilac rings underneath them. She looked absolutely miserable.

"What happened, Marinette?" Miss Bustier said worriedly, and Marinette smiled wryly.

"Nothing, miss. I just don't feel very well today, but I didn't want to miss school," she said, sniffing softly.

I knew she wasn't sick. Something was bothering my princess.

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"...And remember to hand in your projects by next week Friday. Any late projects will not be accepte-"

"AKUMA!!!"

I felt Plagg squirm in my jacket pocket and began to search for a place to transform as everyone scrambled out of class. I spotted a pole just outside of the class and ran for it. As I let Plagg out and gave him his usual dose of Camembert, I was stopped from transforming by the voice in my head.

She pities you.

I winced, earning a confused look from Plagg.

No, she doesn't, I said in my head. She just doesn't...doesn't...

She doesn't love you. She loves someone else. Someone better. Someone who isn't as much of a screw-up as you are. She would take one look at you and feel nothing but sorry for you.

I shook my head violently, trying to get the voice out of my head. No matter where I shut it in my mind, it found a way to escape and fill me with dread and hopelessness. I fought against it; striking and lashing out at it until I felt bruised and broken, worse than my physical pain.

I tried. I really tried.

"Plagg," I said softly. "Come on. We have to go home."

He stared at me in befuddlement. "What?" He questioned.

"Ladybug's the true hero. I'm just her sidekick. It'll be better if she just takes all the credit." And doesn't have to deal with a screw-up like me, I thought, but didn't say it out loud.

"What? Adrien, you two level each other out. You destroy, she creates. You can't destroy something with something that creates," he said matter-of-factly, and I sighed.

"She has her lucky charm, Plagg," I said. "My cataclysm destroys things, which is cool, but it's the only thing I can do. She...she can kick akuma butt and then bandage it up. I..." I sighed again. "I kick akuma butt and then break akuma bones and burn akuma flesh and-"

"Hey, I get it, I get it!" He interjected, looking purely disgusted at my words. I realized he wasn't going to give in so easily.

His nose twitched furiously as I dangled a huge chunk of Camembert between his eyes. He reached for it, and I pulled it out of reach.

"Ah ah ah," I said. "Where are we going?"

He gaped. "But...you...she...you have to-come on, just gimme the-Adrien! Come on, you're killing me-fine. Fine. Fine!" He conceded. I dropped the cheese into his mouth and he swallowed in a millisecond. I wondered how he didn't choke from eating like that.

"She's gonna give you an earful, you know," he said as we got closer to my prison. I nodded. "Also, you not doing anything isn't going to help your situation."

"I know that," I said. "I know, but...I just, I can't face her right now."

"Well, I'd prefer facing her than facing what's to come," he said softly.

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☡☡WARNING☡☡
(Abuse starts here. Also suicidal thoughts as well as self-harm. I'll put another A/N when it's over.)

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Metal smashed against flesh. I screamed, my head slamming into the bathroom wall.

The belt wiped across my back again, sending me writhing on the floor in pain. The cold tiles offered me some relief, but it was only for the briefest of milliseconds before the pain returned.

"Idiot! Useless little brat! You don't even deserve to be here! You don't deserve to be alive!"

I don't deserve to be alive...

My senses were assaulted with all sorts of messages. The smell of metal and disinfectant and alcohol. The taste of blood in my mouth, gushing out of my bitten tongue. The horrible whip of the belt at irregular intervals that filled my ears. The searing pain of the buckle landing across my back over and over and over and over...

I cried. Wailed like a banshee. Screamed until my voice was hoarse, and screamed some more until my lungs hurt. I kicked and flailed, begging for mercy and never unaware of the voice that kept whispering in my head.

Give up give up give up give up give up give up give up give up give up give up give up give up give up give up give up give up give up give up give up give up

No. I...I won't.

And then, when it was over and everything went away, there was nothing but me and that voice.

In a bathroom covered in blood.

The razor.

My eyes shifted to the sink. I knew exactly where that blade rested; years of staring at it ensured that. I had always been coaxed by the voice to take it. But I never did.

I wouldn't let it take over me.

I wouldn't.

I...wouldn't...

I...

I stood up.

My legs moved similar to those of a zombie; slow and irregular, full of stumbles and the constant expectation that a part of my leg would come off. My vision, hazy as it had been before, was clear as day; focussed directly on the tiny, flat piece of sharp metal.

I slunk down to the floor, right next to the sink, and drew. The pain was different from that of the beatings. Those were pounding and inescapable; this was sharp, slow. I was in total control of it.

I chuckled at the irony. Pain making you forget pain. Pain making you stop thinking about pain. Pain making you numb from pain.

My chuckles became louder.

This is beautiful, isn't it?

My shoulders began to shake.

The way pain helps. The way it soothes. The way it erases everything. This...this was what I wanted to show you.

Tears formed in my eyes. Tears of anger. Tears of pain. Tears of anguish. Tears of hysteria. All rolled into one. I laughed hysterically, a part of me wondering if I was going crazy.

Doesn't it feel good to be this way?

I closed my eyes, succumbing to the mercy which was sleep. Knowing that it would all diminish when I woke up.

Yes. It feels amazing.

(End of Abuse.)

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A/N:

Word Count: 1190.

A chapter with only one point of view. Wonderful!

Dazed_Sphinx claps.

First; I just got past the worst writer's block EVER, so I wanted to write this while I still had inspiration.

Second; I am in a dark mood, which helps in my writing, especially in scenes like the above. Hopefully it was satisfying for all you dark readers and writers. If not, well...this is me shrugging. I don't write very well during a post-writer's block period.

Also, who wants to see Nathaniel in the next chapter?

That's all, folks!