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Chapter Text

Ch 01 || Image

Chat Noir projected a strong image of confidence and mystery. More often than not, he acted on impulse—almost the opposite of Ladybug who, despite being able to think fast and was quick on her feet, was incredibly clever and tended to give plans more thought before rushing in—and swore to himself he'd do everything in his power to protect his lady, to protect Paris, to protect his friends and family.

This image, he told himself, he needed to protect as much as the people he cared about. Because Paris needed a hero who was optimistic, a hero who believed in himself as much as he believed in Ladybug, a hero who conveyed determination and bravery. Because if he wasn't courageous, how would the inhabitants of this city know that he would shield them from all harm? If his confidence faltered, how could they put the safety of their home in his hands? How would Ladybug know he was capable of being her partner? If he wasn't strong, then their faith in him wouldn't be strong, either.

He wasn't exactly sure where he went wrong today, wasn't sure where he failed, wasn't sure when that image of strength and fearlessness wavered. But it happened all the same.

He didn't act like Chat Noir; no, he slipped up and let the real Adrien show.

Caught in the middle of a tense battle, Chat Noir moved as fluidly and swiftly as water in a river, blocking each attack sent his way by today's akumatized victim with his baton. His body maneuvered on instinct, deflecting and delivering blows, and he heard Ladybug call out, "Chat Noir, I know where her akuma is!"

"Where?" he replied without breaking concentration.

"The ankle bracelet!"

She was leaping into the air as she said the words, no doubt already scanning with calculating eyes for an opening so she could destroy it. Sensitive ears picked up the thrum of her yo-yo as she thrust it toward the akuma with ease.

Suddenly the akumatized victim—she called herself Nightshade, with the ability of plunge him into a world of darkness should he be touched by that weird beam of hers—pushed herself into the air, narrowly avoiding Ladybug's yo-yo. Chat Noir was quick to follow, trying to slow her down at the very least, but was suddenly kicked in the ribs. Hard.

Green eyes popped wide as he began his nauseatingly rapid descent toward the unforgiving ground, so unprepared that he could barely even think of how he was going to catch himself. He heard Ladybug shout his name, trying to save him, but Nightshade jumped in her way.

"Cats always land on their feet," she said snidely. "Don't worry about him. I'm your opponent. Fight me."

Except Chat Noir did not land on his feet. He crashed through the floor, through thick stone and rubble, flat on his back, with enough force that he was certain the fall would have killed him if he was in his civilian form. His suit protected him, yes. But it wasn't going to save him from being sore in the morning, that was for sure.

"Chat," Ladybug cried out, horror bleeding into her voice.

Chat opened his mouth to assure her he was fine and nothing was broken, but a harsh cough stole the reply from his lips. Dust permeated the area and made it difficult to breathe. Even his eyes stung and he was forced to squeeze them shut. Chat tried to move his hands to rub them. Maybe that would help.

But there were too many slabs of stone, big and small. Chat could barely move, not without causing an avalanche and being crushed. Cataclysm was out of the question. He was pinned.

So much for that plan.

"Chat!"

"I said, fight me. Don't look at him! Give me your Miraculous!"

After Nightshade spoke, he heard Ladybug grunt, maybe being pushed or shoved. His fall had distracted her. Chat needed to reassure her that he wasn't hurt so she could focus on the brawl with Nightshade.

He cleared his throat, hoping to speak quickly to avoid inhaling too much dust. Another painful cough wracked his body and he said as loudly as he could, "I'm f-fine, My Lady. Destroy her akuma!"

"But—"

"Don't worry about me! Go!"

She did not reply right away, so Chat assumed she was either torn with indecision or she obeyed. He desperately hoped it was the latter, and was relieved when he heard her summon her Lucky Charm.

"I'll come back for you," she vowed solemnly. "I promise."

I trust you, My Lady.

Seconds later, she was gone, and Chat was left alone with his thoughts and a bunch of rocks for company. He sighed internally, knowing that Ladybug would only have five minutes before she transformed back into her human form after using her power. And all he could do was wait.

Well. That wouldn't be much fun. Chat's nose twitched, and he fought the urge to sneeze as dust floated by his face. If he sneezed, he was probably done for.

Panic swiftly took place of boredom as reality finally hit him—and it hit him hard. He was truly alone down here, stuck underneath a mountain of dust and rubble. Darkness seeped all around him, and even with his night vision, he couldn't find a way out. Chat was very much trapped.

Oh, goodness, he was trapped.

His breath became a prisoner in his throat. He loathed being locked up somewhere. He loathed the feeling of anxiety that it gave him, the way it made his throat close up and his heart pound in his chest like an enraged animal. Ladybug was fighting the akuma all by herself. He trusted she could handle it by herself—as she had many times in the past—but that didn't mean he didn't worry. What if she needed him? What if she needed his Cataclysm?

"Ok, stay calm," he murmured to himself, but his voice betrayed him. It was hoarse and shaky. He squeezed his eyes shut again. Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay c—

His body twitched involuntarily, and goosebumps pebbled on his skin when he heard something sliding. The rocks. One by one, they were rolling free, hitting the ground beneath him softly, but in the silence, and with his super hearing, it was far too loud.

Sweat glimmered on Chat's brow. His breath was coming out in short, quick bursts.

It's ok, he told himself, even though the situation definitely was far from ok. Ladybug won't take too long. She used her Lucky Charm, which means she's only got five minutes. Or... or four? Three? How long have I been stuck here? When did she leave? How much time does she have left?

It seemed like he was waiting forever, but it was impossible that it had been more than only a few minutes. Regardless, time passed achingly slowly, each second dragging, making him increasingly aware of his roaring pulse, of his quaking limbs, of his erratic breathing patterns. His building panic was putting irrational thoughts into his brain and he couldn't rid himself of them.

It was entirely too much like that one nightmare come to life by that akuma who called himself Sandboy. Dozens of metals bars were forming wall after claustrophobic wall, closing in on him—disturbingly similar to the way these rocks imprisoned him—until there wasn't much space left for him to move. He couldn't even call Plagg for help.

That had been the worst part. Plagg was not there to help. And now, even as Chat Noir, he was half-buried in rubble, and Plagg had granted him the power of destruction, but he couldn't move, and what if Ladybug didn't—?

Don't go there. She'll come. She always does.

Chat forced his eyes to remain closed. Warm red magic swept over him, and he did not open them. The soreness building in his muscles faded mostly, and he did not open them. His body folded in on itself as he hit the ground, and he did not open them.

"Chat?! Chat, whe—oh, no, Chat!"

There it was. His lady's voice.

Normally, said voice would comfort Chat Noir. It was a strange mixture of soft warmth and solemnity, this time laced with frantic concern. Her very presence was enough make his heart race and even evoke a purr out of him.

Now, well, now his heart was pounding for a different reason, and he couldn't get it to slow down no matter how many times he told himself he was fine. In fact, when her hand collided with his shoulder, he recoiled like a wounded animal.

"Chat, are you... alright?" Ladybug whispered, and the back of his mind understood her shock because he'd never flinched away from her touch before.

No. Absolutely not. He drew in breath after breath, feeling as though his internal organs were too big for his body. Feeling like the Miraculous cure hadn't worked and he was still stuck. He was free—but then, why wasn't this crushing panic fading? No matter how much he tried, it seemed like the world didn't have enough air to inhale.

Chat finally looked up at her, eyes all pupil. "O...outside," he rasped weakly. "P-please."

Fresh air. He needed fresh air. Even though everything was back the way it was, the building—he vaguely remembered it being a warehouse of sorts—was still dusty.

She nodded, this time acting more careful, more gentle when she helped him to his feet. His legs felt wobbly and she sensed it immediately, winding one of his arms around her shoulder and snaking her own arm around his waist, using her yo-yo to move faster because she probably didn't have time for stairs.

It didn't take long before they burst out into open space, but Ladybug didn't stop there. Skillfully, she maneuvered her way over the rooftops until they were alone, away from the civilians of Paris and their prying eyes.

Chat swallowed with difficulty, breathing in the deliciously clean air for all it was worth. His chest hurt. His throat was sore. His blood sloshed heavily in his ears, dizzying him.

"S-sorry," he murmured, shame now surfacing alongside his anxiety. He backed away from her a little, twitching self-consciously as he sank to the ground. "I guess I just don't like being locked up. Freaked me out a little."

'A little' was an understatement, and it seemed like they both knew that.

Ladybug's eyes widened considerably, her entire expression softening. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Chat. I should have found a way to get you out immediately—"

"No," he said quickly, his voice still noticeably unsteady. "I was the one who encouraged you to go after the victim. They're ok, right?"

She nodded slowly, but her gaze didn't leave his face. "I'm more worried about you."

Before he could reply, a beep signaled that she was running out of time. Her hand instinctively rose to touch her Miraculous, a look of panic etching across her face.

"Go," he said. "I'll be ok."

"Are you sure?" she pressed anxiously. "I can just feed my kwami, and then if you want to talk about—"

"No." Chat shook his head, summoning enough courage to flash her a smile. It was probably a shadow of the cheeky grin he usually threw in her direction, but at least he was able to manage something. "I'm fine. You're going to transform back soon."

There was no wink. No "Bugaboo" or "My Lady" to follow his words. No silly pun.

Perhaps that was why Ladybug looked incredibly reluctant, but she obeyed. The uncertainty in her gaze sent a spiderweb of cracks into his heart, and when she was gone it burned unbidden in his mind like a photograph.

Not using Cataclysm during the battle extended his time as Chat Noir, and he made the most of it. He stayed on the rooftop for a long while, staring at the Parisian skyline, decorated with pink and orange hues as the sun began to set. Chat inhaled and exhaled slowly, and repeated this action until he could do it without wavering. Even after his heartbeat fell back into its normal rhythm, even after the earthquake in his body finally ceased, he couldn't bring himself to move.

And then, eventually, when the stars finally came out and twinkled down on him, he pole-vaulted home. It only took a few minutes. A cocoon of green light enveloped him as his transformation ended, and Adrien Agreste immediately stumbled onto his bed, feeling strangely numb and exhausted. Even though Ladybug's cure had helped take away the pain from his fall, Adrien was sure there were going to be some nasty bruises tomorrow, ones he hoped he could cover up. Plagg, for once, did not bother asking about Camembert, and instead curled up in a teeny tiny ball next to Adrien's head.

Neither said anything, not at first. Adrien knew he'd messed up—the image of his confident superhero persona had faltered and pieces of his real identity shone like fragments of glass in the sunlight underneath the cracks. Humiliation flowed through him as the realization that Ladybug had witnessed it played over and over and his mind.

"I can't believe it," he murmured into his pillow, voice still hoarse. "She saw me totally flip out over something so dumb. How embarrassing."

Plagg said nothing, but a low purr sounded close to his ear. Adrien rolled over on his back and stared up at the ceiling, seeking comfort in the soft rumbling noise, and spent the night just laying there, unable to bring himself to move even to eat or shower.

He closed his eyes, listening to the symphony of his own breathing mixed with Plagg's purr, until an uneasy sleep took him, not knowing that a girl his age sat in her own room on the other side of Paris, dragged further and further away from sleep by thoughts which stemmed from worry and confusion.

Chapter Text

Ch 02 || Hollow

Marinette Dupain-Cheng didn't really have much trouble getting up for school because she couldn't fall asleep in the first place. If she did sleep, it wasn't for long—every little sound disturbed her. She drifted in and out of a restless slumber, getting two or so hours at most. She'd nearly jumped out of her skin when her alarm went off, signalling that she could no longer just lay in her bed, staring off without focus like she had for the majority of the night.

"Marinette," Tikki murmured somewhere close to her ear, having noticed the way her entire body jolted. "Are you ok?"

She nodded without giving a verbal response, rubbing her face tiredly. Her head ached faintly from lack of sleep and the rest of her body wasn't much better. Exhaustion seemed to seep off her in waves, and she could tell from the little frown on Tikki's face that she didn't believe her.

"I couldn't sleep," she confessed finally as she sat up, pushing her blankets away from her body with a sigh.

Tikki's big dark eyes softened in understanding. "Because of Chat Noir?"

Like always, Marinette was an open book to Tikki. She pursed her lips and offered another nod. "I've never seen him act like that, Tikki. Ever. It was... it was scary. He flinched like I was going to hit him."

Her kwami paused contemplatively. Marinette blinked fatigue out of her eyes, unable to rid the image of a trembling, panicked Chat Noir from her mind. He seemed so small then, on the rooftop, curling away from her the moment she let go of him. Like an injured feral kitten trying to escape the hands of a human who just wanted to help.

She bit her lip. They had patrol tonight. She hoped she could speak with him then.

In the mean time, she needed to get ready for school. Perhaps that would serve as some semblance of a distraction.

With renewed resolve, Marinette stood up. The next ten minutes passed fairly quickly: She changed out of her sleepwear and into fresh school clothes, did what she could to make her hair look presentable, beckoned for Tikki to hide in her purse, and headed to the lower rooms of the flat to meet with her parents before they started to wonder if she was even awake. They'd probably be shocked that she didn't sleep through her alarm.

Surprise was written all over her mama's face when she descended the stairs, confirming this thought. Marinette bestowed her with a fatigued smile, but was forced to pause when a yawn overtook her.

"Morning, Mama," Marinette murmured quietly.

"You're up early," she replied with a frown, studying Marinette closely. "You're pale. Did you not sleep well?"

"Mm." Almost out of pure muscle memory, Marinette made her way to the table where a plate of freshly-baked croissants were waiting for her. She didn't need to know that she was up most of the night worrying about her superhero partner because she wasn't aware that Marinette had a superhero partner to worry about. She gave her mama the best artificial smile she could muster. "I was working on a design project. Lost track of time."

It took a few moments, but she seemed to buy the excuse, much to Marinette's relief. As Ladybug, she had long grown accustomed to making up lies to excuse her behavior, absence, or appearance on the spot. It left her feeling slightly guilty—and like a hypocrite, knowing how much she loathed liars—but there was no sense in worrying her mama. There wasn't much her mama could do to help in this situation, either.

"Well... try not to overwork yourself, ok, dear?"

Marinette nodded in response, keeping that same smile on her face until her mama finally turned around and headed in the direction of the bakery—only to peek her head back in to say, "Why don't you take some of those croissants to school with you? They're the 'uglies' of the batch."

Another nod. She was actually thankful for this, anyway, since her stomach was feeling a little queasy with concern. She hadn't noticed how unappealing food had seemed until she'd tried picking the pastry up to eat it. At least, if she took it to school, then somebody would eat it. Her classmates liked her parents' baked goodies enough so they wouldn't go to waste, that was for sure.

She washed her hands and prepared a box to store them in, moving pretty much on auto-pilot. It wasn't long before she was bidding her parents goodbye and heading out for school.

She didn't live too far from it, so it didn't take her long to get there. Alya was already there. She seemed almost as surprised as her mama had been upon seeing Marinette walk in the door fifteen minutes early. "Hey, girl. Nice bags under your eyes."

"Thanks," she replied dryly as she made her way to her seat with a sigh, setting the box of croissants on her desk. "I stayed up all night working on them." And then, after realizing what had just come out of her mouth: "I—I mean, uh, heh heh, I was—"

"Yeah. I see." There was a teasing glint in Alya's eyes, mixed with a tinge of concern. "What were you doing up so late? Thinking about a certain boy—"

"Alya," she hissed, eyes wide. It didn't help that she was right on point—even if the boy on her mind wasn't the one Alya was hinting at. "Keep your voice down. And no, I... I was up working on a project. No biggie."

"Sure," Alya said with a wink that told Marinette she wasn't exactly convinced.

As a way to distract her, Marinette offered her a pastry. Alya readily accepted it, but she wasn't easily swayed. The banter continued for the next few minutes, with Marinette blushing, stuttering, and then rolling her eyes; and Alya grinning slyly. She'd been so caught up in the conversation with her best friend that she didn't realize Nino had arrived until he dumped his backpack into his seat unceremoniously.

"Is this day over yet?" he asked with a groan. "Oh, Marinette! Are those what I think they are? Gimme!"

Alya giggled, but Marinette's focus instantly drifted to the blond boy who was right behind Nino: Adrien.

He looked as bad as Marinette felt, with dark rings painted under his eyes and fatigue woven into his every movement. He was noticeably pale, a frown pulling at his lips like he was deep in thought.

"—and good morning to you, Mr. Zombie," Alya said playfully. "Dang, was there a party or something that I wasn't invited to? Did both of you stay up all night?"

A subtle elbow to the ribs snapped Marinette back into focus. She straightened immediately, suddenly aware that she had been staring. "Wh-what?"

Adrien seemed grounded by her words as well, blinking as he shifted his attention on the two girls. "I'm sorry, I must have spaced out. Good morning, Alya. Marinette."

He smiled politely at them, without showing teeth. It didn't really register to Marinette that he'd avoided Alya's question, because like always, his greeting sent a dangerous mix of pleasant heat and nervous energy through her.

"O-oh! H-hi. Hi! I mean—" She winced. Could she be any more awkward? "G-good morning, Adrien."

His smile widened just a fraction, before moved to his seat delicately, like too much movement hurt. She smiled back a little too late, because he wasn't even facing her anymore, and that realization was delayed as well. It took a few moments before the cobwebs that gathered in her brain every time he was near finally scattered, and falseness of his smile really hit her.

What could have possibly caused him to look like he lost as much sleep as she did? It would be hypocritical of her to press further for answers. And even if she did ask, she wasn't sure if she'd get out actual words.

Her head came to rest on the desk as humiliation made her face burn hot. Alya's hand came to rest between her shoulder blades and she gave her a sympathetic pat, but she knew Alya well enough to know that she was probably smiling at her misery.

The day dragged on mercilessly. The longer Marinette listened to her teachers' lectures, the more difficult it became to blink away sleep. She fought her way out of its grasp several times, but it wasn't long before she could no longer fight it.

So she fell, sinking deeper and deeper into its inviting embrace until even Alya couldn't shake her awake without drawing attention to either of them. She dreamed of a cat-boy breathing raggedly as they left the warehouse, stumbling away from her like her touch burned him...

At lunch, Alya told her that if her and Adrien were going to sleep so much, they should have just stayed home. As tempting as that was, Marinette knew it would only cause her parents unnecessary worry, so she laughed it off.

Adrien had laughed, too. but it didn't seem real. As he walked with them down the stairs that led into the school, he moved slowly, each step careful, like he was incredibly sore. When Nino snaked an arm around his shoulders, Adrien winced.

"Sorry," he said when Nino's eyes popped wide, flashing that same empty smile. "Took a tumble during fencing. It's bruised."

"No way, dude," Nino said. "Is it bad? Lemme see—"

Adrien actually flinched away from him, which made Marinette's feel hollow inside. It was too similar to Chat. It was way too similar to Chat.

"—inette, are you ok? Marinette?" Alya asked suddenly, frowning. "Girl, what's wrong?"

She was staring openly again, eyes soft and wet. "Um, actually," she said, voice starting to thicken as her throat closed up. "I, um. I d-don't feel too well. I think I am going to go home."

She picked up her pace then, leaving the three of them trapped in a realm of confusion in her wake. Marinette breathed in and out deeply as she walked, trying desperately to keep her tears at bay.

Because the two boys that meant the world to her were both in turmoil. And Marinette had no idea what to do.

She hated feeling this lost and helpless.

Ladybug arrived a few minutes after ten, and Chat was already there, staring out into the starlit sky. Her feet dusted against their favorite rooftop, and his ears twitched at the sound, so even though his back was to her, she could tell that he heard her landing and was aware of her presence.

"Hey," she greeted softly, taking a few careful steps toward him.

Chat Noir drew himself up to his full height, finally turning around to face her. "Hello, My Lady. Are you ready?"

His lips were curved with the promise of a smile, but there was something cryptic in his eyes that made Ladybug's eyebrows furrow in confusion. She couldn't tell if that smile was real or not.

She returned it anyway, although the gesture was slightly watered down compared to Chat's. "I am, yeah."

"Great." His grin widened considerably, showing rows of white teeth. "Let's go, then."

And he was off, just like that. The next twenty minutes were spent combing the city for clues. Sometimes, they strolled through Paris together. Sometimes, Ladybug took half and Chat took the other. Today, it was the latter, as he hadn't given her the choice to ask which way they wanted to patrol. The longer they spent apart, the bigger the knot of dread in Ladybug's stomach seemed to get. She'd worried her day away over him, and now he was smiling (but was he really?) and acting like nothing was wrong.

Which really stung. They were superheroes, sure. The biggest part of their costumes was their masks. But... Chat Noir was wearing a different kind of mask now, brushing aside any kind of vulnerability that had slipped through yesterday.

She could understand this. That didn't mean it didn't hurt.

Steeling herself, Ladybug finished up her side of the city, relieved to find nothing out of the ordinary. She leaped from rooftop to rooftop until she made it back to their meeting place so she could give him a clean report.

He was waiting for her again, flashing her that same cheeky grin that foretold a battle of teasing. "So slow, My Lady. Are you getting rusty?"

Instinctively, she rolled her eyes. "I just wanted to be thorough, that's all."

"Well." He stood again, tucking his baton into his belt. "We should head out. I've got homework to finish, and I don't want to be caught taking a cat nap during class again."

Ladybug stiffened, eyes widening very slowly. This was her chance. "Did you get enough rest last night?"

A shrug. "Eh. I'll live."

"Chat, wait," she pleaded when he started turning. She had his wrist in her grip before he could get away. "About yesterday..."

"What about it?"

"I just..." She bit her lip nervously. "I'm worried about you."

It was the second time she had said it. The pause that followed her confession was so heavy that Ladybug could feel it almost physically and it wasn't long before she started buckling under its weight. Chat had gone impossibly still, like a puppet whose strings had been pulled taut. He was quiet for so long that she was certain he wasn't going to answer at all.

Until finally: "...I don't want to talk about it."

To any other person, his words would have seemed cold. Distant. But Ladybug caught the traces of fear and brokenness that lingered deep in his voice, wedged so far underneath the veil of indifference that it could have easily been overlooked. Her frown deepened. The knot of dread in her stomach sat unmoving like a cancerous lump.

"Chat—"

"Please." He expelled a breath, low and slow. "Drop it, My Lady. Please."

She loosened her grip, but did not let go. Reassured gently, "I'm here, you know. If... if you change your mind. I always will be."

Again, Chat was quiet. Eventually, he turned to face her, and he was smiling again. No teeth this time. It was a smile that made her heart ache. A smile that whispered, Don't come any closer.

"Good night, My Lady," he murmured, before pulling himself free from her hand and making his departure.

She stared off after him, eyes glistening with unshed tears. She watched as he blended in with the inky dark sky of the slumbering city, the only hint of his whereabouts being the silver glint of his staff and that, too, disappeared eventually. Her throat felt constricted and she swallowed hard.

"Good night," she murmured hollowly.

It didn't hit her until she arrived home that Chat wasn't the only boy to give her such a fake smile.

Chapter Text

Ch 03 || Alone

The last thing Chat wanted to do was shut Ladybug out.

He trusted his partner more than anyone else he knew. She meant the world to him. But suddenly that trust had faltered and they were moving in this dangerous dance of tension, each step lingering, and he wasn't sure how to make it stop.

This went on for almost two weeks. Akumas attacked with their usual consistency, once every few days, and they'd handled it, barely. The first week it had been difficult: Chat had thrown out puns and flirtatious smiles, but was only met with halfhearted eye rolls and she didn't flirt back like she usually did. The second week hadn't been as bad, but she still looked at him with that same concerned, pained expression that reminded him how much he'd hurt her feelings by brushing off her worries.

He hadn't meant to hurt her. She wanted him to be honest with her about this. And he would usually—he'd tell his lady anything, even his identity if she wanted.

But... but not this. This was entirely new territory. That day had left him vulnerable and exposed—in front of Ladybug, no less—and it wasn't a pleasant feeling. He never wanted to feel like that again.

He wished he could erase that night from existence. Then there wouldn't be any mixed emotions, wouldn't be any tension. And maybe... maybe they'd just needed a little more time, and things would go back to how they were. A few more days, perhaps. Another week, and everything would be normal again.

At least, that was what Chat was telling himself. But this akuma was proving to be more difficult than he expected, and it put them right back at square one.

"What did it do?" Ladybug asked him, staring in horror at their surroundings.

They were in the park, and people were running around in terror. But that was not what got underneath Chat's skin—it was the collection of motionless bodies that were scattered about, deathly still, eyes closed. Looking at them made Chat feel sick.

"I have no idea," he answered, swallowing hard. "Whatever happened, it's gotta be the akuma. We have to—My Lady, what're you doing?"

She was kneeling down next to a girl, slowly and carefully, with a indecipherable expression. Chat's stomach twisted uncomfortably when Ladybug rolled the girl on her back, revealing a face he knew too well.

Alya Césaire. Glasses cracked, phone face up and unlocked. She must have been trying to film the fight for her blog.

"She's breathing still," Ladybug said faintly, looking incredibly relieved. "I guess they're just unconscious."

"I wonder how it was able to hit so many people at—"

Chat stopped, ears twitching. There was movement behind them, feather-light and smooth. The akuma was nearby, he was sure of it. Nothing else in the area was stable or awake enough to maneuver so fluidly besides the two of them.

"What?" Ladybug stiffened, pushing herself up to her full height. She turned around slowly, eyes sharpening. "It's here, isn't it?"

"I think so," he murmured, matching her low volume. "What do we do, My Lady? You're the purrceptive one."

He was hoping to lighten the mood. To break the tension. But Ladybug was silent, brows furrowed in concentration, lips pulled into a frown. The pun didn't even earn him an eye roll. "Either it's very good stealth-wise, or we're dealing with another invisible akuma."

Chat pursed his lips. Muttered softly, "...right."

She turned again, obviously on-edge. Her blue eyes were dim with anticipation.

Something snapped. Chat whirled around as fast as he was able, eyes narrowing, body growing rigid. His ears twitched again, and he was mentally sifting through all the sounds that reached him: the faint whispers of the wind; the screams that were getting quieter and quieter as the Parisians put distance between themselves and the akuma; cars speeding away; and then, footsteps, once again too slow and light and careful to belong to the frantic pedestrians.

"We know you're there," Ladybug said, dangerously calm.

Gradually, gradually, the footsteps came closer, this time hesitant and uncertain. Then something in the air rippled, causing the wind to pick up, and Chat heard something like a sob.

Ten feet away from them, a body materialized, piece by piece, limb by limb, until a young boy was standing before them. His face was awash with tears, eyes webbed, cheeks pink.

Immediately, the tension in Chat's body seeped out. His eyes widened. The boy looked younger than him—eleven or twelve, maybe. It was hard to distinguish any other features with that super-villain suit, but Chat could see clearly by his face that the poor child was an emotional wreck.

Ladybug looked equally shocked: mouth hanging open, eyes soft and wet. It was heartbreaking to see such a young kid look so crestfallen.

"Sh-she won't wake up," the akumatized boy said, anger oozing into his voice as another sob escaped his lips. He was tugging at the handkerchief tied around his wrist. "Sis got hurt and she won't wake up. The doctors s-said..." More tears cascaded down his blotchy cheeks. "I just want her to wake up! Until she does, all of you will be asleep like her!"

"Hawkmoth is so sick," Ladybug hissed suddenly, her voice quiet but dripping with venom. Her grip on her yo-yo had tightened. "Preying on little kids who are already suffering as it is. I can't believe it."

"I agree, My Lady," Chat murmured, eyes narrowing.

"Shut up!" The akuma released the handkerchief and thrust his hand out, sending out a pulsing wave of energy. "Stop talking! Stop talking!"

Both of them leapt out of its path without hesitation, and the sphere struck a nearby tree.

Instantly, the branches began to snap and quake, and soon the whole thing was coming down. Chat's eyes popped again, horror rushing through him. It was a pretty big tree. If it landed, so many people on the ground would be severely hurt, if not crushed.

With no other choice, Chat called for his Cataclysm, the destructive energy bubbling in his palm immediately. He twisted his body, arm pin-wheeling until the tips of his fingers collided with the tree that was coming down faster and faster by the second.

The whole thing disintegrated under his touch. Then Chat was on the ground again, heart pounding, and Ladybug was looking around frantically.

"He disappeared again," she told him.

"Ok. Ok," he said, trying to calm himself so he could concentrate. "I... I found his akuma, I think. Did you see the way he was playing with the handkerchief on his wrist before he attacked?"

Ladybug paused, seemingly thinking. Then she nodded. "Right. It's on the same hand that he attacked with."

"Must be—"

A guttural cry cut him off, and the air rippled again.

"I said, shut up! Go to sleep!"

The next sphere came so fast.

Chat moved on instinct.

"Ladybug, MOVE!"

His hands made contact with her side, pushing her more roughly than he intended. He didn't even have time to see if she could recover, to see if she could regain her balance; because a second later, everything had flipped and twisted.

Chat felt like he was walking in strobe lights. One moment he was looking directly into Ladybug's eyes and the next, the world was dark and absolutely silent. The shift lasted approximately three to four seconds before his partner was looming over him with a fearful expression. Tears were streaming down her cheeks like raindrops on a glass window.

"...can't do this alone, Chat. Hey, hey, hey... Stay with me! Please...!"

He was thrust into darkness again, sinking deeply as if he was in a body of water. When he finally resurfaced, Ladybug was gone.

Ladybug was gone.

Chat sat up with enough force that it sent a spell of dizziness through him. His eyes popped wide. Where was his lady? Where was the akuma? He traced his surrounding with his gaze, immediately noticing how eerily silent it was. There was no sobbing little boy. No scared pedestrians in the streets. No children in the park, scrambling towards their parents for safety. It was like everyone had vanished. Not a hint of human life remained.

One gloved hand came up to cradle his head. Chat squeezed his eyes shut, feeling slightly nauseated from being struck by... by that ball of energy the akuma threw in his direction. The dread tying his stomach into knots wasn't helping much, either.

What should I do? he thought to himself, slowly peeling his eyes back open. The city of Paris was still disturbingly empty. Is this what it's been doing? Sending people into...?

Into where? Where am I? Paris, but...

Breathing in deeply, Chat pushed himself to his feet, teetering slightly before finally regaining his balance. "Ladybug?"

There was no response. Chat should have expected that.

"Ladybug?" he repeated anyway, swallowing anxiously. "My Lady?"

Nothing.

Chat looked down at his ring, which still had a full neon green paw on it. Panic seized him immediately—he'd used Cataclysm. Wouldn't he be running out of time? His countdown should have already begun. Confusion swam through him alongside the panic.

"Ladybug," he called out frantically. "Ladybug! Where are you?"

His feet were moving before he could stop them, eyes scanning the area to see if he could find someone, anyone, to see if he was truly alone or not.

He walked and walked, gaining momentum with each rounded corner, with each pounding step. It wasn't long before he was sprinting, heart roaring in his ears, and he threw out his baton, allowing it to carry him up toward the sky. Then he was plummeting back toward the earth, and up again.

No matter which direction he picked, no matter where he went, he didn't see a soul. Minutes passed, so slowly that it felt like he was combing the city for hours. He didn't understand. He was just surrounded by so many people, asleep or not! How could they just disappear? How could everything be so quiet?

Ladybug, echoed through his mind endlessly, determined to find her again. He had to know where she was. Before the akuma struck her, too.

When Chat's feet ghosted against a wide, familiar beam that helped make up the Eiffel Tower, he stopped. By then he was breathing heavily, and it wasn't just because of the sudden exertion of energy. The panic that was had taken root in his body still had an iron grip on him, and it refused to let him go.

Not again, he thought, heart thrashing wildly in his chest. Please... I don't want to feel this again...

It was too late. The anxiety was coming fast and hard, sending tingling sensations up and down his limbs. He drew in a deep breath, and another, and another, but each time was more difficult. It wasn't long before he was dizzy.

He was all alone here. He had so much of this city to himself, the freedom to go anywhere. There was so much space to just breathe. But he couldn't. Why did it feel the same as it did when he was stuck in the rumble?

The answer came to him almost instantly: isolation was just as suffocating as being trapped.

"C-claws in," he stammered, but there was no rush of green magic. No release. "Claws in, Plagg! Claws in!"

Why isn't it working?

He glanced down at his ring again. Still a full paw. His heart felt like it was trying to climb out of his throat, blocking his airways. He clawed hand came up to touch his throat. Choking. He was choking.

He'd spent so much time alone. When his mother disappeared, the mansion and Nathalie became his whole world. His father had buried himself in his work, barely having time for him at all. Everything outside the walls of his home was off limits, untouchable, like a butterfly that always lingered just out of his reach.

The moment he tasted freedom, he became addicted to it. He never wanted to let it go. Public school, his friends, daily human contact...

Chat's legs wouldn't hold him anymore. Now there was no human contact. There was nobody here. A sound escaped him—was it a sob? How pathetic—and his eyes clamped shut. He felt like he was going to faint.

He loathed this feeling so much. Loathed how it wrecked him from the inside, like all of his internal organs were malfunctioning. Loathed how easily it could control him, how easily it could hinder him. The mere thought of being alone sent him spiraling into a state of pure panic with nothing to pull him out of it. Nothing to anchor him. He hated, hated, hated it.

And yet it haunted him still, stealing his breath, pushing him further and further away from what he craved and back into the painfully familiar realm of loneliness and isolation that he'd grown up in.

"C-cla—" He couldn't even try to call off his transformation again, couldn't speak at all. His voice wouldn't obey.

A faint thrum of wings reached his ears, so quiet at first that Chat almost didn't hear it. He glanced up, pupils contracting when he saw a flash of red, approaching him rapidly. The closer it got, the louder the sound became.

Ladybug. She's here.

He made a move to stand, but couldn't. His legs were too wobbly, lacking the strength to keep him upright. So he fell again, stomach twisting when he realized he was thousands of feet up.

His hand shot out, desperate fingers groping at something—a nearby beam, maybe—to catch himself with. He succeeded, and he told himself that all he needed to do was hold on until the swarm of ladybugs reached him.

But his energy was plummeting. Quickly. The anxiety had exhausted him. His body felt like it weighed much more than it actually did.

Hurry, he pleaded silently. His grip was slipping. Four fingers.

The ladybugs were so close.

Three fingers.

Closer.

Two.

Then he was falling. Magic swept over him and—

Chat bolted upward with a greedy gasp of air, one hand immediately touching his throat. He could actually breathe. He really could. He wasn't choking. He wasn't falling. He drank in this blessed realization for all it was worth, eyes wide like saucers, chest aching.

And Ladybug was kneeling beside him, expression full of concern.

Chat didn't think. He threw his arms around his lady, pulling her close. His whole being seemed less heavy, seeing her face, feeling the weight of her body against his.

"You came. You're here," he blurted out, squeezing her tightly as if to reassure himself that it was actually true. "You were—everyone was... and I—I was... all alone..."

His voice was hoarse, like he was only just now learning how to use it properly. Some part of him was incredibly relieved that she squeezed back, although there was a small moment of hesitance that stemmed from being embraced so suddenly.

"Of course I'm here, Chat," she murmured, patting his back tenderly. "Are... what happened to you?"

A sudden beeping noise stole his response, and he pulled away from her to glance down at his ring. Four toes. He had four toes.

The rational part of him would have asked why he hadn't already reverted back to his civilian self. Would have stood up and made a getaway, because those four precious minutes he had left would be gone before he knew it. But his body remained rooted to the ground, frozen in place; and he glanced back up at Ladybug, trying to memorize her features all over again because he never, ever wanted to forget it.

The exact shade of blue that her eyes were.

The curve of her jaw.

The freckles dotting the skin just below her mask.

Her earrings flashed and one of her dots disappeared. Then a familiar voice said, "Ladybug saves the day again—" A squeal. "Are we going to get a reveal, here and now, Ladybloggers?"

With a grace only she could achieve, Ladybug stood, one hand hooked around Chat's bicep. She hauled him up before he could speak, and Chat turned his head just in time to see Alya standing a couple feet away, filming them.

She was awake. Her glasses were no longer cracked. Ladybug must have used her Miraculous cure, which was how the spell had been broken.

Now the spotlight was on them: cameras flashing, eyes peering at them in curiosity and anticipation.

And they were about to change back.

"Not here," Ladybug whispered, before flinging out her yo-yo. Then they were airborne, and she was holding him, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, once again taking them away from the crowd. Disoriented, Chat could only stare as the world flew by, heart still trying to punch its way out of his chest.

On the second beep of his Miraculous, Ladybug found a place to land. It was a secluded area, somewhere in the backstreets of Paris. She didn't let go of him as they touched the ground, instead gently but quickly guiding him into an unfamiliar alley of sorts. It was then that he caught sight of the small, mysterious box clenched in her hand.

"Did..." He swallowed, clearing his throat. "Did you have to...?"

She glanced down, seeing what he was referring to. "I did," she admitted quietly. "My Lucky Charm guided me to the Guardian. It's the Bee Miraculous."

Guilt swam through him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean for you to—"

"Then why did you push me?" Ladybug demanded fiercely, and when he met her gaze he saw the tears glistening in her eyes. "Why did you sacrifice yourself? Again? I—I can't stand to lose you, Chat! Wh-what... what would've happened if I couldn't bring you back?"

Her voice broke.

Another beep. Two minutes left.

Chat hated seeing her look so upset, even more so when he knew he was the reason. He swallowed again, this time with more difficulty, trying not to think about what would've happened if he'd been stuck in that state of cold isolation for a moment longer. He shuddered.

"You did, though," he said quiveringly. "My Lady, you always do."

She released a bitter laugh, wiping at her eyes forcibly. "I could've lost you."

Once again, he acted without thinking. His arms threaded around her waist, and their bodies collided in another hug that bled desperation. "You didn't," he murmured into her hair. "You didn't."

It was I who lost you.

"Chat," she said faintly. "You're shaking."

He didn't reply. Just held her tighter, pressed so close to her body that he knew she could probably feel how fast his heart was beating, could hear the shuddering expulsions of breath that left his lips. He didn't care. He just wanted to feel that she was here, that she was real.

"I... I had a dream..." he admitted eventually, blinking back tears. "...that I was alone... and I c-couldn't find you anywhere..."

Another beep. One minute left.

She stiffened, breath hitching.

Embarrassment flooded through him immediately. Right. Their identities. It didn't matter that no one else was around. She still didn't want him to know. Ignoring how deeply that stung, he released her without hesitation, hurriedly spinning around so he couldn't see her.

"Chat..." She trailed off. He heard the gravel crunch underneath her feet. She must've turned around, too.

"I'm not looking," he assured swiftly, clearing his throat again in a desperate attempt to strengthen his voice. "I, um. I should go—" A rush of pink light confirmed that she'd run out of time. "...I'll head out this direction and I'll turn right. You head out that way, and turn left, ok?"

His transformation released as soon as he finished his sentence, and Plagg flew out of his ring with an exhausted moan.

"Wait," Ladybug said quickly, but she didn't turn. Didn't reach for him. Just stayed still, and that was all he needed to prompt him into walking away. "Chat. Please..."

"I'll see you on patrol, My Lady," he said stonily. "Alright?"

"I don't want—" She stopped. "I hate this tension. Talk to me. Please."

"I have to feed my kwami." He was already cradling Plagg, who looked much paler than he usually did. Stupid, he thought. He felt incredibly stupid now, allowing himself to appear so vulnerable in front of her. How could he tell her about his experience? He should've just sucked it up, should've kept his mouth shut. Because in his costume, he was Chat Noir. Adrien Agreste's problems weren't allowed to touch Chat Noir.

But they did. Again.

There was so much to do now. He'd sneaked out his house when he'd heard of the akuma, and now he had to figure out how to get back inside the mansion unnoticed, lest he be questioned by Nathalie—or worse, his father. Plagg needed cheese. Then he'd ask how the heck his kwami had kept up the transformation for so long after summoning Cataclysm.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," he told her.

There was a pause. He heard Ladybug sniffle.

And then: "O-ok. See you tomorrow, Chat."

He walked away, slipping Plagg's tiny body into his shirt pocket. When he rounded the corner, turning right as he promised, he assured quietly, "I'll get you some more Camembert as soon as I can."

Plagg shuddered, groaning again, and it was genuinely hard to tell if he was exaggerating or not. "Kid," the kwami said weakly, peeping his head out to look at him. "Why didn't you stay and talk to her?"

"You know that would've been risky," he answered. "And you need some food."

A moment of hesitance. "I'm really not good at this whole human-emotions thing"—here, he shifted his weight in Adrien's pocket, sighing tiredly—"but I know it's taking a toll on you. You and Ladybug both."

"It'll work itself out," he muttered, but even he could admit that the words lacked confidence. He wasn't sure if he really believed that or if he was just being desperate at this point.

"Kid," Plagg repeated, this time as a warning.

"Later," he insisted, blinking away tears for the second time that day. "We'll talk about it later. I... I'm tired. Let's just get home before Nathalie starts to wonder."

Plagg quieted. Adrien shoved his hands into his pockets, wishing once again that he could erase today's events from existence.

Chapter Text

Ch 04 || Release

"Marinette. Marinette. Girl, what's with you?"

Marinette blinked, Alya's words finally reaching her. She glanced up at her best friend, and judging by her exasperated expression, Marinette was sure that zoning out while Alya had been talking wasn't very polite.

"Sorry," she murmured as sincerely as she could muster, offering an apologetic smile.

Alya's brows shot up quizzically. "What's up? That's not the first time you've blanked out on me today."

She shrugged, not pausing in her steps. In her hands was a pastel pink paper bag which contained a handmade gift, something she'd designed herself. They'd been invited to Rose's birthday party, and were heading toward her house. It started in a less than fifteen minutes, but Marinette wasn't worried. They weren't that far away.

"Guess I've been distracted."

"I thought you'd be ecstatic," Alya said teasingly, nudging her in the ribs. "Nino said Adrien got permission from his dad to come tonight. Which means he'll be there! Why aren't you jumping around? You could make your move."

A soft, fond smile touched Marinette's lips, but it didn't threaten to expand into dreamy, nervous laughter the way it normally would have when Adrien was mentioned. Her gaze drifted skyward, fingers lacing together. "Maybe."

"Oh, girl." Alya stopped walking, a hand coming to rest on her shoulder. "C'mon. Spill."

"Hmm?"

"Don't 'hmm?' me." She narrowed her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"There's nothing to spill," Marinette said with another casual lift of her shoulders. "I'm just tired."

"You've been 'tired' every time we talk about something like this," Alya countered, using air quotes.

"Can't you just consider the possibility that I'm actually tired?"

The look on Alya's face was enough to tell her she wasn't convinced. Despite being unable to tell her best friend what was truly on her mind, it was a little comforting to know that underneath that curious exterior, Alya was worried.

"Maybe you should focus on the fact that Nino will be there," she said, hoping for a change of subject.

Her words had the desired effect. Alya rolled her eyes, but the light pink dusted her cheeks gave her away. Alya was all cool and collected around him—the opposite of Marinette when she was around Adrien—but it was obvious, at least to Marinette, that she cared deeply for him.

Alya began to chat animatedly about Rose's party again, but it was nothing she hadn't heard before. And once again, Marinette was quick to descend into her own thoughts which she'd fruitlessly tried to ignore. Thoughts that ate her up all night, and then again throughout the school day.

Thoughts which included a certain black cat superhero whom she would meet with again in three hours time for patrol.

Marinette had a sinking feeling that it was going to be the same as their last few patrols. Quick, but distant, and full of tension. A familiar, unpleasant ache came to life in her chest, like a wound that kept reopening. It wouldn't fully heal until she and Chat tore down this wall that had somehow been constructed itself between them.

She wanted to fix this. Wanted him to trust her again. Wanted him to open up to her. Wanted a chance. She didn't know how or where to start.

Marinette stayed mostly inside her head until they arrived to Rose's place, offering the occasional hum of agreement and "oh, girl, I know" just to keep Alya's pressing questions at bay. By the time they reached the door, Marinette was surprised to hear a lively chatter on the other side. It seemed like most of the guests had already arrived.

"Oh! Marinette, Alya! Come in, come in," Rose squealed excitedly, ushering them inside without hesitation.

"Happy birthday," Alya gushed, grinning wide.

A pleased blush dusted Rose's cheeks. Somewhat thankful for the distraction, Marinette followed behind Alya. Rose's house wasn't big, but it wasn't small, either. She could see Juleka. Kim. Alix. A glance to her left showed her that Max, Ivan, and Mylène were here, too. She blinked in confusion. Where were Nino and Adrien?

"Happy birthday, Rose," she echoed politely, before presenting the bag in her hand with as wide of a smile as she could manage. She had a feeling she was failing miserably. "Where should I put this?"

Whether Rose picked up on her inner turmoil or not, Marinette couldn't tell because Rose's eyes lit up with glee and she threw her arms around her in a thank-you hug, and when she pulled away she pointed to the table decorated with pink on the other side of the room. "Over there!"

Marinette nodded, already on her way to said table. "Do you know where—?"

Alya already had her phone out, following to place her own gift with the others. "Nino's on his way. He says Adrien is running a little late, but he'll be here." And then: "Hey, why do you look so down? Rose will love that cardigan you made her. She's been wanting one to match her dress for weeks."

She offered a soft, fond smile. Right. She was here to have fun. She couldn't let her thoughts drag her down, not until the party was over. "Thanks, Alya. But... shhh, keep your voice down! She'll hear you. Then the surprise will be ruined."

"She's already sitting with Juleka," Alya said, rolling her eyes.

Alya quickly became absorbed in her phone, and Marinette scanned the crowd once again. Next to her hip, she felt a subtle poke. Tikki was in her purse like always, and the warmth that radiated from her kwami through the fabric was comforting.

Something soft collided with her ankle. Marinette blinked, jolting in surprise.

"Aww, cute," Alya cooed suddenly, kneeling down to the floor. "I didn't know Rose had a dog."

Marinette hadn't, either. It looked fairly young, maybe three or four months old, with a shiny pale white coat and a fluffy tail. It was hiding under the table, it seemed, peering up at Alya and Marinette with curious eyes.

"Rose said she just got him a few weeks ago," came a familiar voice. Nino. Marinette had been so distracted by the dog that she hadn't noticed he'd arrived. "I bet he's nervous around all these people. Aren't you, little dude?"

He knelt down on the other side of the dog, holding out a hand experimentally. The dog sniffed his fingers, before retreating back under the table.

"That answers that question," Alya said, each word tinged with laughter.

She and Nino stood again, and Nino said, "I can't wait to try the cake. It came from your parents' bakery, right?"

It took several moments for Marinette to register that the question had been directed toward her. "Oh, right! Yes. Yes it did." Rose's parents had come to pick up right after she got home from school. "Be sure to tell me what you think. Papa always likes hearing what others have to say about his work."

"For sure, dude," Nino said, tilting his cap down a little as if to solidify his promise.

"The party's about to start," Marinette murmured. "Is Adrien almost here?"

"There it is," Alya said teasingly. "I knew you were going to be excited about it sooner or later."

Marinette frowned, trying to ignore the way her cheeks burned. "I'm just worried something happened."

Nino was looking down at his phone. "He says he's a few minutes away. Got held up by his dad."

She hummed, still worried. But a few minutes passed, and just like Nino had said, Adrien was being let in by an ecstatic Rose, who then announced that that was everyone who had promised to be here.

She'd invited everyone in their class, but Chloé and Sabrina unsurprisingly didn't show. While the old Marinette would have rolled her eyes and scoffed, she knew Chloé wasn't all bad, and Sabrina was only following after her best friend.

All thoughts of the two were soon swept aside as the party began. It passed in a blur, with games, food, and the opening of gifts. It was loud, but that was to be expected from a room full of teenagers. Rose's parents seemed welcoming enough, taking everything in a stride, all the noise and chaos. Finally, Marinette retreated back to the table, watching with affection as Rose started to cut the birthday cake.

She nearly jumped out her skin again in surprise when a familiar blond boy came by to join her. "Hey, Marinette."

"O-oh! Adrien hey. I mean, hey, Adrien." She grinned as wide as she could, and then toned it down a notch when she thought maybe that was overkill. But the grin slipped from her face when she saw the dark rings shadowing his eyes. There was something achingly familiar about the cryptic expression on his face. "Are... are you alright?"

"Hmm? Of course." He flashed a smile—his Model Smile, as Nino had dubbed it—and suspicion chewed at the bottom of her stomach. "I'm glad I got to come."

Her expression softened. "I'm glad, too." Oh, goodness, was that too much? Did that come off as weird? She hurried to fix it: "I—I mean, that you came. I thought you wouldn't because you were late, but I'm still glad you made it! 'Cause you're my friend. Your company is perfect. I mean! Enjoyable. Erm. I—"

Adrien's laugh was gentle, but genuine. "Thanks, Marinette."

But the whisper of mystery in his eyes remained. The suspicion chewed harder. Deeper. "What's wrong? You look like you haven't slept."

Adrien ran a hand through his hair. "Is it obvious?"

"Kind of, yeah," she said without thinking. "Erm, I mean, you don't look terrible. You never look terrible! You just—"

Darn it. She was digging her own grave, like always.

"I'm sorry," she said eventually, faintly. "I was just worried."

"I should say the same for you," he said suddenly. "We both look like we need a nap, don't we?"

Marinette giggled, although it sounded hollow and strange even to her own ears. Tikki moved again in her purse, as if sensing she was uneasy. Carefully, Marinette said, "Is there something on your mind?"

Adrien's gaze drifted to where Rose and her parents were, vigilantly weaving through the crowd of teenagers, making sure not to make a mess as they handed out piece after piece of cake. It wasn't long before his entire expression became undecipherable, the smile fading quickly. "Do you know what it's like to humiliate yourself in front of someone you care about?"

Adrien was asking her that? She humiliated herself in front of him almost on a daily basis. She was a babbling, clumsy mess around him.

"All too well," she muttered.

"I... I embarrassed myself in front of her," he confessed softly, releasing a slow, quiet breath as he spoke. "More than once. I guess I can't stop thinking about it. It kept me up all night."

Marinette tried very hard to ignore the sting in her chest upon hearing the word her. He'd embarrassed himself in front of a girl. Was she someone he liked? Already it felt like something was sinking inside her. Deeper. Deeper.

"What about you?" he asked, looking directly into her eyes. "What kept you up?"

Marinette opened her mouth, but no words came out. It was too easy to get lost in those eyes, beautiful but so, so sad. She struggled to find her voice, and when she did, it was croaky. Fragile. "I have this friend. I'm worried about them."

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hmm," she said, before looking away. She couldn't handle the intensity of his gaze. "I think I upset him. Now... now things are weird between us."

"You? Upset someone?" That spark of laughter, of life, was back in his voice. "I can't imagine you upsetting someone." Then, with a bittersweet smile: "Maybe you should talk to him."

"Maybe," she said faintly. "Maybe you should talk to your own friend. Maybe it's not as bad as you think it is."

"Maybe," he echoed, his smile widening a fraction. "Thanks, Mari—ahh!"

Marinette was startled when he put a few feet of distance between them, and she flushed hotly when she realized how close they had been, but the sensation was gone quickly when she saw the look of horror etched across his features. Her eyes widened in confusion and—

Oh. The dog had come out from under the table. He was eyeing Adrien—or, rather, Adrien's shirt, with intense interest, as if there was something in his pocket that he wanted.

A low growl emitted from the pup, and Adrien immediately circled around. Suddenly he was behind her, and his hands were resting on her shoulders.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," a voice said abruptly, and it was then that Marinette realized Adrien's startled yelp had captured the attention of most of the guests at the party. Rose's mother was walking toward them, two plates of cake in her hand, and she set them on the table so she could help put some distance between the dog and the two teens.

"He's usually very quiet," Rose's mother persisted, gently taking hold of the pup's collar. "Rose, honey, I'm going to put him in your room for a little while, if that's ok? I'll be right back."

Rose squeaked something in reply, and then her mother was off, cooing at the animal who still looked very intrigued by Adrien's presence. But Marinette's focus was solely fixed on Adrien's fingers.

His fingers which were attached to hands.

Hands which were touching her shoulders.

"Um—" She tried to think of something to say, to do, other than blush and stutter like an idiot. "A-Adrien—"

"Sorry! Sorry," Adrien repeated quickly, but only released her when the dog was out of sight. "He... he startled me."

"Are you ok, dude?" Nino was abruptly next to them, open concern written all over his face.

Marinette's gaze met Adrien's for a second time, and her heart squeezed when she caught the deep, primal fear glistening in Adrien's eyes. It was an expression that was hauntingly familiar. Too familiar. It was the same look that weighed heavy on her conscious, dragging her down, down, down, for weeks.

All she could think was, Chat.

"I'm fine," he said, although the words came out breathlessly. "I guess he startled me. I didn't know there was a dog here."

"I'm sorry, Adrien," Rose said, crestfallen. "He usually doesn't growl like that! He's very peaceful."

"It's fine. Really! I'm good." Now he looked nervous, but was quick to paint on that Model Smile. Wider. Wider. "The cake looks amazing."

And just like that, the subject was dropped. Rose was quick to give the credit to Marinette's parents, to which she offered a wobbly smile.

Rose's mother reentered the room, and the party resumed like normal. Alya winked at Marinette suggestively, and at any other moment, she probably would have struggled not to melt into a pile of goo because wow Adrien had been so close and she'd managed to actually talk to him—

But that look on his face lingered in her mind, even as everyone shared laughter and grins. She felt a nudge by her hip. Tikki. Marinette gave her purse a subtle, gentle pat, trying her best to dispel the lost feeling that settled deep within her.

She couldn't. Everyone was having such a good time.

Marinette was screaming inside.

Marinette checked the time, only to find out that only a minute had passed since the last time she'd done so. Patrol didn't start for another twenty minutes, and with the help of her yo-yo, it would only take a few minutes to reach their meeting spot. But she was tired of waiting. It wouldn't be so bad if she left early, would it? Then again, she'd go from anxiously waiting for time to pass in her room to anxious waiting for Chat on a rooftop. There wouldn't be much of a difference.

"Do you know what you're going to say to him?" Tikki asked quietly, coming to rest on her left shoulder.

"Not a clue," she said, burying her face into the palms of her hands. "I have no idea what to do, Tikki. It feels like we fought about something."

She hadn't told Tikki about her suspicions. Maybe because once she admitted that Adrien and Chat's strange behavior were somehow linked out loud, it would feel real.

So she shoved that thought down. Further. Further. And she wouldn't tell Tikki because, even if she did, there was no guarantee that Tikki would answer her honestly. She knew how important it was for their identities to remain a secret. It'd been engraved in her brain since day one. Tikki probably wouldn't be able to tell her the truth.

And she didn't know if it was true. It probably wasn't. Her brain was just so clouded with concern for the both of them that she was jumping to conclusions.

Regardless, she needed to talk to Chat. She couldn't handle this. It was eating her up. And then, when she loosened the tension between her and Chat, she could worry about Adrien.

"It'll work out, Marinette," Tikki said comfortingly.

"But what if it doesn't?" Her throat ached in a way that foretold tears. "What if we just keep drifting further and further apart? I can't lose him. He's my best friend."

Tikki pushed herself into the air, nestling against Marinette's cheek. "You won't lose him. I'm certain. Ladybugs and Black Cats always find a way to work through their struggles."

She sniffed, blinking hard to dispel the stinging sensation in her eyes, cupping her hands around her kwami. And then she nodded, basking in the reassurance of Tikki's words. Yes. They'd figure this out.

Tonight, she said in her mind, pushing herself off her bed with renewed determination. We'll figure this out tonight.

She called for her transformation and made her way out of her room, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. While Chat could blend in with the night, Ladybug's costume was much more noticeable. Still, she'd learned to be stealthy during her patrols. That was why they scheduled these patrols so late in the evening—so they'd be able to comb the city for signs of akumas while its citizens were getting ready for bed.

It didn't take her long to reach their meeting place. She blinked when she saw Chat was already there.

Chat often came early, so she shouldn't have been surprised. She knew how much he liked the outdoor air, even when it was cold. A strange mixture of dread and excitement caused her stomach to flutter.

"My Lady," he said as way of greeting her, winking at her.

The words passed through her skin. Wrapped around her heart like a ribbon. Squeezing. Squeezing. It both flattered and saddened her to know that she was still his lady, even with how awkward things were between them.

"Hi, Chat," she said, with a tiny smile.

He leaned on his baton like it was a cane. "Do you want me to take the East half?"

Right. Back to professionalism.

She didn't want to go back to professionalism. Maybe that was what she wanted sometimes, but not tonight. It wasn't Chat. Their relationship had never truly been professional—they were just teenagers with the weight of the entirety of Paris on their shoulders, and with Chat's silly puns, with his flirtatious comments and gestures, it wasn't all business. They were partners, but it was so much more than that. He was like her other half. The distance between them made her feel so empty.

"Actually," she said eventually, swallowing hard, "I was thinking we'd walk together if... if that's ok?"

There was a few moments of hesitation, stretched out long enough to make her anxious.

"Oh," he said faintly. "Sure."

"Ok," she said, nodding to herself. She drew in a shaky breath, forcing herself to not lose her resolve. She could do this. She could fix this. "Ok."

He nodded, too, although a look of anxiety crossed his features. It was gone before she could blink. He extended his staff, and she tightened her grip on her yo-yo. Then they were both plummeting toward the ground, and then up toward the sky. It was something both of them were long used to: up, and down, whizzing gracefully through the city, with fleeting moments of weightlessness before the cycle started anew.

Chat stayed a few feet ahead of her the entire time, painfully silent, which wasn't at all what she wanted. Her feet dusted across a sidewalk, and she flung out her yo-yo string, just barely catching his wrist before he pushed himself skyward again.

It's all or nothing.

"Chat." Why did she feel so out of breath? She stood, panting and unsure, desperately hoping he'd turn to face her. "We can't keep doing this."

He paused. "Doing what?"

"Please, stop," she murmured, pulling ever-so-slightly. It stung that he was trying to pretend like nothing was wrong. "Tell me what's going on."

"Ladybug—"

"I won't judge you," she went on, careful to keep her voice low. Even though they were in a secluded area, it felt like there was a spotlight on them. Like someone was listening. She took a tentative step forward. "I just... I want you to be able to talk to me. I want you to know you can trust me."

"Of course I trust you," he said, now turning to face her. His eyes were wide with shock, as if he was offended that she didn't think it was true.

She swallowed again, this time with more difficulty. "It feels like you don't." She blinked rapidly, trying her best to keep her voice steady, but she wasn't sure if she was succeeding. "A-and... I get it. There are things you don't want people to know. There are secrets you want to keep to yourself. I respect that. But... but I can't... I can't handle this. I hate this distance. I'm so worried about you."

Chat's expression crumbled almost immediately. "My Lady..."

Another shuddering breath. Nice, slow. She was ready to speak again when a series of barks split through the air, startling the both of them. By then her grip on her yo-yo had slackened, which meant Chat was free of her hold. His whole body jerked upon hearing the noise, tail straightening, ears flattening.

And he was behind her, fingers curling around her shoulders, looking around wildly as if trying to find the source of the sound. It didn't seem too terribly close, and she couldn't find it when she looked, but the noise had been very loud in the silence of the night. On any other night, Chat's reaction would have been comical.

But it wasn't. It was far, far from funny. Ladybug sucked in a sharp breath, shocked to her very core, and not because of the barking.

Hands. It was the hands on her shoulders.

All at once, memories slammed into her, hard enough that the impact felt physical. Mere hours before, another pair of hands had been squeezing her shoulders in terror, just like this. And with that memory came a voice:

"I guess I don't like being locked up."

Another blond boy had told her that months ago, when she'd defeated Riposte.

"I've got homework to finish, and I don't want to be caught taking a cat nap during class again."

She remembered the day they'd both accidentally fallen asleep in class. She remembered the way he'd flinched away from Nino, the same way Chat had flinched away from her on the rooftop. She remembered the horrified look in his eyes at Rose's party.

"I embarrassed myself in front of her."

Ladybug turned to look at him, painfully slowly, eyes widening, bit by bit. She studied his hair. His eyes. It was like the last few pieces of the puzzle were finally sliding into place, and when everything clicked, her heart felt like it was ready to burst through her chest. She had been right. She'd been right, and it still didn't feel real.

"Adrien?"

She hadn't meant to say his name out loud. It just came out, in such a soft whisper that she hoped desperately that he didn't hear. But he was Chat—he could hear a pin drop—and it was obvious that he did.

The way he froze up, the way his eyes bulged, the way his mouth fell open... it told her everything.

"Wh-what?" he said, instantly backpedaling. "What?"

"It's... it's been you," she whispered, throat constricting. "This whole time."

"Ladybug, I—" But he couldn't finish. His voice died then and there.

She felt like sobbing now. But she couldn't. She needed to get out of the open. So, just like she'd done that first day, just like she'd done yesterday, she snaked an arm around him and they were moving away, away, away.

She didn't stop until they reached the Eiffel Tower. It was tall enough that she was sure no one would see. When they landed, her cheeks felt damp and sticky.

"I... I don't understand," Chat said, looking so very lost. "H-how...? How did you know?"

Sniffling, she wiped fiercely at her eyes. And then—and then she didn't care anymore. About their identities, about the secrecy, everything just didn't matter. She could see clearly now, the damage she had caused by not telling him who she was. Yesterday, if she hadn't been so tense when he hugged her, he wouldn't have pushed her away. And weeks ago, when he'd been hyperventilating on that rooftop, she'd still panicked when her earrings beeped. If she hadn't, he wouldn't have felt the need to tell her to leave. She probably could have stayed with him, helped him calm down, talked him through it.

And... and... and oh goodness, he'd been so ashamed. He'd told her so back at the party. That was why he wouldn't talk to her. She desperately needed him to know that he didn't need to feel embarrassed over something like this. Every part of her ached for him to know that.

He didn't need to suffer by himself. Not again. She'd left him twice. She wasn't about to do it again. Whatever the consequences, she was willing to face them if it meant he wouldn't push her away anymore. Anything was worth that.

"M-My Lady—what're you doing?" Chat said in a panic when she reached for her earrings.

"I'm here for you," she told him, and her voice broke as she spoke, thick with tears and emotion. "With or without the mask. Always."

And then the magic was gone, leaving her vulnerable and exposed in front of her partner. She barely noticed Tikki's heavy gaze on her. A few more tears cascaded down her cheeks, and slowly, slowly, she looked up at him.

"Ma...Marinette?"

There was no going back now. He knew. He could see. She fumbled with her earrings, struggling to put them back in, and when Tikki was summoned back into the earrings and red magic swept over her, she threw her arms around his shoulders, choking on a sob.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated. "I'm so, so sorry, Chat. I'm sorry I made you feel ashamed... I'm sorry you felt like you had to deal with those fears by yourself... but I'm here. I'll always be here. So... so please, just... trust me."

It took several achingly long moments, but he finally returned her embrace, sinking heavily until they were both no longer standing. By then she couldn't tell which one of them was shaking. She felt rather than saw him take a deep breath, and was he crying, too? She couldn't tell. She hugged him tighter regardless, resting her chin on his shoulder.

This release was something they both needed.

It felt like an eternity before they pulled apart, but when they finally did, Chat—Adrien—expelled a breathless, croaky laugh. "Th-this... this was not how I expected to reveal my identity to you."

Ladybug laughed as well, although it came out as more of a hiccup. She wiped at her eyes again. "We... we're silly, aren't we?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we are."

"I... talked to you, about you."

"I guess I did the same, huh?" And then, suddenly, he was pulling off his ring, and before she could even begin to look surprised Adrien Agreste was staring at her, with his kwami—Plagg, the back of her mind told her—looking at the two of them with an unreadable expression.

She hadn't had any doubts. But it was weird, knowing Chat was Adrien and actually seeing it.

"Just to make it fair," he murmured, before slipping the ring back on, and he was Chat again.

Her lip wobbled again. She was exhausted, because she had no idea what time it was now, or how long she'd been crying. Her eyes felt swollen and puffy, and her head ached.

"You know," she said hoarsely, looking at him directly. "It's ok to be afraid sometimes. I'm afraid of a lot of things."

Chat blinked, quiet for a moment. Then, hesitantly: "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she echoed.

"I..." He stopped, scared and uncertain. "Thank you, My Lady."

Later, she would it would probably hit her that it was Adrien calling her his lady. Later, everything would hit her, probably just as she was about to fall asleep, or maybe even the next day, when she met him in class. She'd have to face Tikki and Master Fu. But right now, in this moment, all she could think about was how good it felt to know that the wall of tension was finally crumbling, that there was no more distance, no more pretending. Just unwavering warmth and trust.

Tikki had been right. It had worked out. Not in the way she'd expected, but it had.

"Hey. Marinette," Chat said quietly, her name falling from his lips like it was the first time he'd ever said it before.

"Hmm?"

"I'm here for you, too. And I do trust you. More than anyone."

Her head came to rest on his shoulder again, too tired to think about how close they were, and allowed her gaze to sweep over the starlit sky. "I know."