Marinette returned to her parent's bakery late that night. While she had her own apartment close by, her parents often offered to babysit whenever they felt Marinette was becoming too isolated. She appreciated it, especially on nights like these, but she refused to make it a habit.

She dug in her handbag for the keys and smiled when she felt Tikki's small hands passing it towards her. Looking down at the spotted kwami Marinette couldn't help but marvel at the lack of age in Tikki's adorable little face.

"I'm sorry, Chat Noir didn't show. I really thought he would," she mumbled.

Marinette shook her head. "That's all right Tikki. I'm sure he had something more important planned. Besides, it doesn't really matter. We haven't spoken in years."

"Maybe the next time?" suggested Tikki.

The keys slipped from her grasp, falling with a clang onto the cold paving and Marinette sighed, bending down to pick it up. "I don't –I don't think so, Tikki."

"But Marinette, Chat Noir has a right to know –,"

"And I've given him time," she snapped. "I've given him seven years to find me, to talk to me and to ask about Hugo. I've given him every opportunity to reach us and he hasn't done anything!" Marinette's face warmed when she saw a passer-by couple eye her oddly and hurriedly unlocked the door.

"Marinette," murmured Tikki, her voice filled with pity. And, for some reason, that only fueled her rage. She ignored the kwami, stepped inside and locked the door back behind her, leaning against it to catch her breath and calm herself before Hugo saw her.

The smell of fresh bread, sugar and warm spices flooded her senses and Marinette briefly reminisced about the times when she was just as small as Hugo, helping her father in the bakery while her mother dealt with people as the cash register.

She used to spend hours watching her dad by the oven, doodling pretty dresses for her dolls on the counter and singing with him to all her favorite songs as they played on the radio.

"Marinette, is that you?" asked Sabine. Light flooded the room and Marinette felt her demeanor calm as she stared at the worried face of her mother. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, Mom, the show just went a bit longer than expected." She pulled off her coat, hung it on the rack beside the door and fell into her mother's embrace, clutching onto her tightly.

Out of both her parents, her mother had been the most supportive about Hugo's arrival.

Tom had been surprised at her behavior and angry that she'd thrown everything away, but Marinette had been adamant about keeping Hugo, no matter the cost, and her mother had agreed. Now Tom seemed to love him more than anything else in the world.

Alya had helped by providing Marinette with some toys and clothes her siblings had grown out of once they were no longer new-born. As a result most of his clothes had been pink or purple, but after raising some money at the bakery her mother and her had gone out together to pick out all sorts of clothes and supplies to keep him healthy and satisfied.

She should've never sought comfort in Chat Noir that night, never trusted him the way she had.

"How's Alya doing? It's been a while since I last saw her or Nino," said Sabine.

Marinette smiled, "She says married life keeps her busy. Nino only has a year left of film school and she got some nice snapshots for her blog. Jean –Paul even gave a private interview just for her."

"Well I'm glad her blog is doing well. I was a bit worried after the disappearance of Ladybug and Chat Noir, but she seems to be doing just fine without them." Her mother wrapped her robe tighter around herself and shook her head. "Tom and I tried putting Hugo to sleep, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He's waiting for you upstairs."

"The little night owl," muttered Marinette, unable to shake the smile from her face. "Thanks again for looking after him. Is it okay if we spend the night in my old bedroom? I don't wanna have to walk in the dark with –,"

"You don't need to explain," said Sabine, cutting her off. "Tom and I already told you that you're welcome anytime for as long as you want. You're our daughter and it's hard enough without a father to support him."

Marinette bit her lip and Sabine raised her eyes to Marinette's, a newfound confidence swirling inside her grey eyes. "Marinette, I know you don't like talking about it, but if your father and I know who the father is then we could maybe –,"

"I already told you that I don't remember," snapped Marinette.

She hated lying to her parents, but when she and Tikki came up with a logical solution to cut off all the loose ends it was the only way to protect her identity as Ladybug should anyone want to use Hugo to get to her.

She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes to avoid seeing the muted anger behind her mother's. "I was drunk. I don't remember who he is."

Sabine sighed, the echo of it replaying in her mind. Her thin dark brows knitted unattractively above her eyes and Marinette practically broke as disappointment filled her mother's eyes. "Okay then," she said, "I guess you should put him to bed then. Goodnight dear."

"Goodnight, Mom." Marinette watched as her mother walked up the stairs towards the upper floor and thought back to what Alya told her.

There wasn't any point in dwelling on the future when there was no guarantee of what would happen.

But Marinette couldn't stop thinking of what Hugo would think if he found out about the lie she'd told. Would he think less of himself for not having a father? Would he despise her for it?

"Breathe, Marinette," whispered Tikki, "Just breathe."

"You're right." Marinette swallowed thickly and nodded briskly, "You're always right." Taking in a deep breath, Marinette made her way quietly upstairs to her bedroom and stepped through the trapdoor.

The familiar pink walls brought a fresh set of memories to Marinette of all her times with the girls, Chat Noir and Adrien. A few things had changed since then though.

All the pictures of Adrien had been taken down, removed a few months after his move and her chaise lounge had been given to Alya as an engagement present, swapped for a small bed instead.

Looking at it, she spotted Hugo's silhouette on top staring out the window at the brightly lit streets of Paris. His hair was messy, sticking out in all sorts of directions and his favorite dog plush toy was pressed tightly against his small chest.

She shut the trapdoor softly behind her and his head snapped towards her, his bright green eyes a haunting memory of the boy she thought she'd been falling in love with once upon a time.

"Mommy?" he asked.

She shushed him as she moved toward the bed and sat beside him. He inched closer, burying himself in her side and she placed her hand protectively around him. The lighting in the room was dim, but Marinette could still see the prominent dark circles beneath his eyes.

"Did you have another nightmare?" He didn't answer and for Marinette that was more than enough confirmation. "Did you at least have a nice day, sweetie?"

"Grandma wouldn't let me near the oven," he muttered, "I'm a big boy now, but she still treats me like a baby. Please tell her to let me bake like grandpa."

Marinette smiled, "Grandma's only doing what she thinks is best. She's just worried you'll hurt yourself. You know, I remember she didn't let me near the oven until I was at least ten years old."

He pouted. "But you're a girl. Grandpa says it's different for girls."

"Are you saying girls can't bake as well as guys can?" teased Marinette, ruffling his already messy, dark hair.

Sometimes she got hints about what Chat Noir looked like by seeing what parts Hugo inherited from her and what he didn't.

He had her faint freckles, her dark hair and her thin lips, but he had his father's eyes, a curved nose, strong cheekbones and his father's troublesome allergy to feathers.

A memory of Mr Pigeon came to mind and she smiled.

"Well Grandma doesn't bake as nice as Grandpa," he muttered and Marinette laughed, doing her best to muffle it behind her hand. He flushed darkly, his pale skin turning bright pink and Marinette could only laugh harder.

Moving her fingers towards him, she saw his eyes widen in fear and realization. But it was too late and seconds later, she was tickling him.

Hugo squealed, giggling and sputtering as Marinette moved over him, merciless as she moved her hands beneath his shirt getting to all his weak points. A wide smiled stretched over his adorable little face and Marinette's heart warmed at his innocent face.

It was times like these when she felt truly blessed to have Hugo in her life, despite all the hardships and sacrifices.

She lived to see his small dimples whenever he grinned, the gleam in his green eyes when he did something naughty and how he scratched the back of his head whenever he was nervous.

He was everything, because he was hers.

This is the first time I've put an OC (technically) into one of my works and I'm seriously in love with this little guy. I know a lot of stories have Louis or Emma as the first born, but I couldn't really find any with Hugo in. Poor little guy. Anyway, please don't forget to vote or comment if you liked this chapter and I'll post the next one next week. Have a miraculous weekend!