#missing au

Sabine's parents hadn't exactly been the most loving parents. Or people in general. And they certainly hadn't been supportive of her or her choices. Not while she was growing up and certainly not when she wanted to move to Paris or marry a French-man.

And while she loved her husband with all her heart, the less said about his side of the family, the better.

She had been worried, to say the least, when she learned she was pregnant. What if it was hereditary? What if her own childhood damaged her beyond fixing? What if she was incapable of loving her child as a parent should? What would she do if she discovered she was no different from her own mother? And that her child would grow up just as she had?

That was why she was grateful that Marinette was so very easy to love.

There were trying times, sure. Moments and even days where having a child was an obligation rather than a joy, especially at the beginning—with feeding and diaper changing and tantrums. And there were times she hated herself for feeling that way.

But…

There were other times. Precious moments of that quirky smile and bright blue eyes looking around in wonder. The pride she felt when she got to teach Marinette new things. The excitement they shared in when Marinette would run to her—even if she was interrupting a customer transaction or the baking process to show off the latest thing she created.

There was a feeling…incomparable when her daughter gave her a gift. Not because it was something new to have, but because each one was hand-made—a testament to the time and effort she devoted to showing just how much she cared.

Marinette was a loving child. It was hard not to love her. Even if there were times Sabine got frustrated with her or wished things were different. Like how Marinette didn't really take to her mother's language as she'd hoped she would. Or her struggle to make friends and lack of confidence. Her anxiety and panic attacks. How she would run off at all times with the craziest of excuses. And her debilitating crush on that Agreste boy to the point of losing sight of anything else.

Sabine still had her moments of frustration and anger towards her daughter, certainly. Times when her crush on that Adrien boy blocked out everything else. Or when she tripped and made a mess because she was caught up in her thoughts. Or when she left home or school to do who knows what lately...

But they were dwarfed in comparison to all the other moments. Moments that left her happy, proud, and questioning how she had ever been afraid she wouldn't love this child. She was a gift. Everything Sabine could ever have hoped for in a daughter. And now Sabine couldn't even imagine her life without this precious little girl in it.

Until suddenly, she had to.

Suddenly, her daughter was gone.

Her baby girl had disappeared without warning and Sabine didn't know why.

At least, not until that day...

It was perhaps the first time she was grateful for an akuma.

She should have been terrified. Her daughter could have been turned into a cookie. Or mind controlled to be an akuma’s follower. She could have been turned into digital data. Or shrunken and put in a snowglobe. Or…or just an akuma herself. Sabine should have been scared—absolutely terrified!

Instead, she was relieved.

All this time, she had been fearing the unknown and imagining all of the very real possibilities of what had happened. That her little girl had somehow gotten into an accident and couldn’t escape. That she had been kidnapped. That she was being tortured. Used. Hurt.

...that she could very much be dead.

Her bǎo bao could have died...alone and scared and Sabine wouldn’t have been there for her in her final moments...she wouldn’t even have known.

So for once, she was thankful for Hawk Moth. And for the akumas and Miraculous and the craziness that they had brought to her world.

Because if it was magic—even if she couldn’t fully understand it...that meant it could be fixed.

If her daughter was an akuma, she could be restored. If she was attacked by someone else’s akuma, she could be healed. If anything happened to her, she could still be saved.

So Sabine had waited.

Waited for her daughter to return.

Waited for the Miraculous Cure that would bring her back.

Waited…

And waited…

And waited

And waited and waited and waited and waited and waitedandwaitedandwaitedandwaitedandwAITEDANDWAITEDANDWAITEDANDWAITEDANDWAITEDANDWAITED!!!

...

And just…

...

kept

...

...waiting.

…

…

…

But…

...how long could a mother simply sit by and wait?

No mother should experience this.

No mother should be forced to wait like this.

Wait and wait and wonder and never know.

She needed answers.

She needed one answer.

Ladybug did not offer it.

Chat Noir could not give it.

That only left one other option.

The one responsible for it all in the first place.