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Just Like Clockwork

Summary:

Ladybug is a vigilante hero to the people, but to Chat Noir she is nothing more than a thief. The duo is the adorable couple everyone loves to watch and be saved by, but underneath is a constant war.

Chapter 1: Something Different

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Yes! Finished!” Marinette hollered as she held her newest variation into the air, throwing her other fist up in victory and almost dropping the machine in the process.

She quickly caught the piece and got up from her workbench, a grin splitting her face as she started looking around her room. “Tikki!”

She looked through a pile of paper scraps for her kwami but couldn’t find her. She sighed, her gaze combing her room one last time before saying, “Tikki, if you come out I’ll give you another washer.”

Almost immediately, a small whirring and clicking came to life over by her bed. She turned just in time to see the small mechanical friend come hovering out from under her pillows, the little propeller antenna on her head spinning in unison.

“Did someone say something about washers?” She asked as her metallic jaw clicked with her yawn.

Marinette smiled, holding up her mechanism. “Tikki, look! I finished it.”

Immediately, the little kwami’s eyes flashed and went wide, her metal face contorting as she backed away a little. “Is this one going to explode? Or is it going to start blasting steam again? I really don’t want another rusted joint.”

Marinette frowned, huffing as she grabbed a strip of leather from her wall, draping it around her machine then tying it around herself like a sash. The cold metal pressed into her back as she started towards the ladder in the corner of her room. “I’m sure I have it right this time. Last time I’d put one too many pumps in it. And the time before I’d used a piston when I should have used a pressurized method instead.”

Her little kwami hitched to the side a little as she flew, her head twitching slightly. “If you say so. Hey, I seem to be having trouble with my left rotator again. Can you take a look at it?”

Marinette’s eyebrow rose. “Another? Tikki, are you sure we shouldn’t just shut you down and take you to Fu for a day or two?”

“And leave the Plat without a Ladybug? Not gonna happen.” The kwami said, just as her twitching antenna forced her to land on her wielder's shoulder.

“Alright, if you say so.” Marinette relented as she pushed her way into the upper story.

She crawled her way into the greenhouse above. The tinted blue glass let in just enough light for the flowers of this area, and the yellow and clear glasses of the other rooms cascaded slightly over the polished floors.

She could see the clouds outside and switched on the light regulator, hearing the small engine come to life as she approached a panel in the wall.

“Are you sure this one’s going to work?” Tikki asked again, always fussing.

Marinette smiled reassuringly, pulling the machine off of her back. “I’m positive. Now, stand back.”

The Kwami flew to the other side of the greenhouse, burrowing her way into a flower’s petals to keep herself protected.

Marinette grinned and pried open the panel, looking at the empty mess of pipes and wires within. She started pulling them out, plugging them into different ports on the new mechanism. The water lines fit perfectly, and after a few adjustments of the electrical wires, everything was in place.

When she slid the piece into place she was pleased by how well the other lines moved around it. Still, she had to see if it would work.

She stood back a little, pulling out a pair of strapless goggles to hold over her eyes as she reached out. She flipped the switch in the middle of the machine and said a silent prayer.

She turned her back on the mechanism, waiting for it to start sparking, groaning, and blow once again. But, nothing of the sort happened. She heard the machine start up, and slowly started purring.

She spun in wonder, studying how the water easily flowed in and out of the machine, its knobs and gages reading all the right input and output values.

She didn’t celebrate yet, though. She ran to a bed of flowers that had been flooded for far too long and looked into it. That’s when she noticed that the water was slowly going down, the roots being revealed in their little pools of saturated soil.

She whirled as she heard a hose come to life on another table, dripping water out to the occupying plants. Another hissing started where some nutrients were being sprayed out in a mist.

She laughed and whirled in a circle, relishing in her accomplishment, running to slam the panel shut.

“Tikki! Tikki, it works!” She leaped into the air, her leather-clad hands clapping sharply in excitement as her booted feet landed back on the polished floor with a squeak.

The kwami came flying out, celebrating with the girl as they spun around the flower nursery.

Marinette had been working on a system regulator for months now, and finally, she’d finished it. Now, she could keep all of her flowers healthy, and keep her business running.

She didn’t really need the flower business, not with the money from her family’s bakery still holding them up well. But, she still loved the idea of growing such beautiful things up on the Plat.

The Plat was the floating structure they lived on. It was a town that had long ago been raised from the ground by floating metallic balloons and large propellers on the bottom. It was a genius structure really. The entire thing was run on carbon dioxide from all the balloons and zeppelins that ran around the city. It basically worked like a plant in absorbing the compound and clouds and converting them into water, normal air, and energy.

So, they never had to go to the surface, saving them from facing the toxic air.

Why was it called the Plat? She didn’t know. Maybe it was short for ‘platform’? No one really knew or cared.

She knew it was once called Paris, and it still had the iconic Eiffel Tower, but she didn’t know really why this city had been lifted from the ground other than to escape the war and the poverty that followed.

Up here, there was only room for the rich (or at least better off). There were still slums in the city, and still those low in class, but nothing compared to the surface.

She’d been there once. She remembered when she was young and her parents had taken her to the surface to deliver food the to survivors and to those in need.

It was filthy on the surface, people wallowing and sleeping in collapsing huts, ditches, and ruins. She saw women on the street selling themselves for money, men walking about with guns strapped to their sides or on their backs, and children running from person to person to pickpockets until they were caught and hauled into alleys, not to be seen again.

It made her appreciate just how lucky she was to live on the Plat.

Well, she appreciated almost all of it.

During her visist she'd been looking for some fresh air to breathe when she’d stumbled into a flower shop on the outskirts of town. The air in there was fresh and smelled sweet. She’d taken in big lungfuls before looking around the establishment in awe.

She’d never seen any sort of flora or fauna before, it being only a menace to the structure of the Plat with its roots and vines bending and rusting the metal streets and ground. But here, she saw working and beautifully sculpted boxes of plants.

The storekeeper gave her his remaining packages of flower seed, begging her to take them with her.

“God knows I can’t make use of them besides for breathing,” The old man claimed, his hands shaking. “Take them with you and share them with those up there. Please.”

So, she’d done as he asked.

It took a few months of experimenting and researching from the oldest books in the libraries, but she’d finally found all the correct methods for growing each kind of flower. Now, her business was booming, everyone wanting flowers for their galas and balls.

She grew anything from Baby’s Breathe to Yellow Hibiscus but found the most popular were orange Dahlia (a good compliment to the copper of the town hall), blue Balloon Flowers (typically outside venues), pink Carnations (thank you Chloe Bourgeois), and finally, cream and purple Ranunculus (only ordered by Mr. Gabriel Agreste himself).

Marinette gently sighed and settled down from her celebration to sit next to a box filled with cream Ranunculus. Her hand came out on its own accord, stroking a flower’s stem lovingly. She loved the flower on its own, but because it was tied to the Agrestes it made it her favorite.

Rarely did Mr. Agreste actually order the flowers for himself or even his own venue. No, most of the time he ordered them for his fashion shows, and more specifically, for his son’s photoshoots.

She flipped in her seat, flopping back against the metallic box as pure joy ran through her

Adrien Agreste, the one and only, had been photographed countless times now with her flowers in the background, or even accompanying him in the newest outfit and trend.

He never knew it was her of course, his father making sure never to let him know his old classmate was their florist (something to do with favoritism and rumors). But just the thought that he enjoyed the flowers as much as she did made her heart flutter.

Her thoughts were cut short as one of the hoses turned on, spraying a small stream up over the brim of her cap and into her face. She sat up sputtering and spitting as mud mixed in with her long braid and caked her hands in her attempts to scramble up.

She fell to the floor with a thunk, just as she heard a knock on the door to her main office just beyond a curtain to her right. She stood up, wiping her hands on an apron hanging near the door before stepping through and going to open up the shop.

And in came scrambling none other than her best friend Alya.

The brunette stumbled up to her friend, a grin plastered to her face as her hands clutched Marinette’s shoulders.

“Let me guess, another sighting?” Marinette chuckled before her friend could get a word out, trying to steady the panting and sweating young woman.

“Yes!” Alya shrieked and bent over, breathing heavily while raising a finger. Marinette smiled, unlatching Alya’s fingers from her to run and grab a chair from the consultation corner and a glass of water.

“So, where’d you see her this time?” Marinette asked as her friend threw herself into the chair.

“Not her this time.” Alya said as her breathing leveled out, her eyes going wide and bright. “I saw him. And it wasn’t even in an article.”

Marinette felt something in her chest move, whether it was dread or something else, she didn’t know. “You saw Chat Noir out today?”

Alya nodded so fast it was surprising her head didn’t snap off. “Yeah. He was out by the zeppelin district, and he was looking for someone.”

Marinette had to hold herself back from scowling. “Do you think he was looking for Ladybug?”

Alya’s eyes sparked. “Well, I mean, those lovebirds are inseparable. But we haven’t seen our crimson Lady in nearly a month! He must be desperate to see her again.”

Marinette spun away, walking to the counter to hide the grimace that crossed her face. “Oh, right, they’re like, star-crossed lovers or something, right?”

“Or something,” Alya said from the lip of her glass as she downed the rest of her water. “Have you ever seen those two around each other! I mean, they might as well just hold up a sign saying, ‘Cutest Couple Alive’.”

Marinette hoped Alya didn’t notice the growl that bubbled up her throat. “Well, if he’s out, then there must be a reason. Maybe another one of those, what were they called again? Akumas? Maybe one of them will show up and then you can get another shot of those two.”

Alya flounced back in the chair, throwing her arm over her face dramatically. “Oh, I wish, but fate is never that kind. And don't pretend to not know what's going on. We used to be attacked every other week during school.”

Marinette ground her teeth as she turned back around, desperate to find a new subject.

“Is that a new outfit?” She said suddenly, hoping it would be enough to distract her chatterbox friend.

Alya’s face turned coy as she smirked up at the raven-haired girl. “Oh, alright, I’ll stop with my fangasming for your sake. For your information, Ms. I-design-clothing-for-models-and-am-also-their-florist, it is new. Thanks for noticing.”

Alya was clad in an auburn overall romper with a red T-shirt peeking out the top. The tights that stretched down to her heeled boots were an acid washed amber with a single fingerless glove on her right arm to accompany.

Marinette knew the glove was actually made of a fabricated metal hybrid she’d made to protect Alya’s arm while she attempted to take pictures of Ladybug and Chat Noir, but she never thought she’d actually wear it.

On her hip, she still had her leather belt with her camera holder and emergency smoke bomb dispenser.

“It’s a good look for you.”

Alya grinned and got up to curtsy. “I’m glad it can impress even you.”

Marinette smiled and looked her friend over. “So, besides to bug me with more news on Ladynoir, did you come for anything else? I have to go work on some commissions for Mr. Bourgeois.”

Alya pouted, flopping back into her chair. “What is it illegal to bug your best friend now? Oh, how the times have changed.”

Marinette huffed fakely, rolling her eyes and smiling as she walked up to Alya. “Well, if you aren’t gonna leave, do you at least want to see the regulator I finished?”

Alya looked almost as shocked as Marinette had expected. “You actually got it working this time?”

Marinette nodded proudly, resting her hands on her hips. “Yep!”

“And it’s not going to explode like the last two?” Alya asked, cautiously raising her protected arm.

Marinette frowned. “The second one didn’t explode. It just blew a gasket and started spitting steam.”

“Same thing,” Alya said but she’d risen to her feet. “Alright, I’ll see.”

Marinette grinned and lead the way into the greenhouse. But just as the girls entered the sweet-smelling sanctuary a rumble shook the ground as a muffled explosion was heard from somewhere outside. Both girls braced themselves in a squat as the shaking slowly subsided, but each reaction was drastically different.

Marinette glared out at the column of smoke while Alya’s face split in a Cheshire grin and her eyes went alight. Marinette turned to her friend, a scowl covering her face. “No, Alya. We should stay here.”

“Oh, Mari, you’re such a buzzkill. You can stay here if you want. I need to go get some pictures.” Alya said, bouncing slightly as she slowly crept towards the door.

“Alya, no, wait!”

But before she could do anything the brunette had taken off, sprinting out the door and probably down the steal streets.

Marinette cursed under her breath and ran towards the other side of the shop, back to the hatch leading to her room. “Tikki? We have another one.”

The mechanical friend wasted no time in popping out and zipping over to her. “Finally! We haven’t been out in almost a month.”

“Well, now we're going for a little run,” Marinette said as she jumped down into her room, sliding on her knees over to the chest under her bed.

She pulled out her Ladybug outfit as she wrenched off the old timepiece that was pinned to her belt. She looked to her kwami as she stripped herself of her blouse and skirt.
“Transform me!” She commanded as she slipped on her shorts and her belted corset top.

She watched as her mechanical friend began to collapse in on herself, folding up in shuttered layers until she was about the size of a euro coin, and sank easily into the middle of the timepiece. From the edge shot out a cord and handle strong enough to easily hold her weight during a battle. From the other side shot out the small pebble that was the mechanic side of Ladybug.

She stood up, slipping on her boots as the wires and metal laces sprung forth from the pebble, wrapping around her shoes and up her body. Her legs were enveloped in the wires as they formed her red and black striped tights and came up to form the metallic collar at her throat. She flexed her arm as the metallic shoulder covering formed around her appendage.

The tights were actually a network of micro-fibers meant to help her jump higher, run longer and faster, and take impacts better. The shoulder guard allowed her to swing easier by taking the weight off her joint as she went from structure to structure. Wires laced out to take the belts off her corset, replacing them with large clock and gear fittings to help stabilize and protect her.

She quickly undid her braid and instead threw it up into a ponytail as it unwound itself. On her thigh, she replaced her sewing kit with a repair kit and a small sack which held the mini-mechanical ladybugs she’d been gifted.

The ladybugs were only for the end of the mission. After taking out the small butterfly that supplied the chemicals to anger a victim they would capture the mechanical insect and siphon out the compounds, leaving it harmless. Then they’d travel around the city repairing the damages of the battle, only to return to her sack within minutes.

The final touch was her cuffed leather gloves and her red and black spotted scarf tied around her eyes to hide her identity.

Now, she saw Ladybug, the vigilante who tormented Hawkmoth and was a ‘lover’ to Chat Noir.

She grinned at her reflection from across her room, holding the newly formed yo-yo in her hand. It was good to be back.

She tested her mechanical aids by leaping through her hatch, and out through a skylight in the greenhouse, perching gently on one of the support beams.

She grinned as the breeze from the high clouds tickled her eyes and threw her hair away from her neck. But her attention was soon taken up by the billowing column of black smoke that looked to be over in the mechanics district.

She frowned. Who would be upset over there? There was always work, and the people there were some of the nicest she’d met.

She took off running, using her yo-yo to sling from one roof to the next, the air rushing by giving her the buzz of the chase.

But the buzz still wasn’t enough to take away her awareness of a presence that soon joined in her run.

They came leaping in from the South, their foot pointed right at her head. Marinette rolled to the side luckily, just as the black-clad mass landed next to her on the steel tiled roof.

She heard claws clattering and metal scraping metal as the figure took the impact hard, but still sprung back to their feet.

Marinette sneered as she was forced to a halt, turning to the young man standing at the crest of the roof. “It’s been a while, Kitty.”

Chat Noir’s grin was just as sickening as always. “Ah, My Lady. It's been some time. But I suppose absence does make the heart grow fonder.”

Marinette grimaced, standing back to her full height. “You'd need a heart to begin with for that to be true.”

Chat raised a hand, pressing it to his chest in feigned injury as he leaned back, using a pole on the ceiling to swing him around in a lazy circle as he groaned mockingly. “Why, My Lady!” he said in mock horror as he swung back around, a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, “I’m hurt. Don’t you know this old black cat has already given it to you.”

“Are you talking about that net bomb you gave me?” She asked with a scowl twisting her features at the memory.

To his credit, it had been vaguely heart-shaped.

He smiled, shrugging. “Purr-haps.”

She grimaced, studying the young man.

He still looked the same as before.

He wore black knee high boots with black dress pants, no doubt to hide his own enhancing mechanisms. His belt buckle that was frankly too large was accompanied by two suspenders in helping to hold down the white open-necked shirt he wore. His jacket was still covered in the same patchy straps and metallic panels here and there, no doubt feeding to gloves at the end of his hands.

She’d never really cared much to acquaint herself with those claws, but they still fascinated her. She'd guessed they were operated by different pumps in the sleeves, feeding to the kerosene jets and the sparking rotor in his thumb. More pumps and pressurizers gave him superhuman grip and his claws the ability to extend on command.

The mechanical ears that were perched in his floppy, windblown hair seemed to serve no purpose until one noticed the small wire running down to two clear earpieces. Turns out, they were actually used to listen and allowed for better hearing than most animals had.

His tail, on the other hand, served no purpose other than to annoy her.

She looked up into this green tinted goggles and glared. “Well, I suppose we’ve done a good job of convincing the public thus far. My friend thinks we’re the cutest couple alive.”

“Oooh.” Chat plopped down onto the top of the roof, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he smiled again, “Do tell.”

She saw something spark in his eyes as he looked across to her, almost daring her not to go on. Her expression hardened as she came to remember that he probably already knew everything there was to know about them in the media.

He’d been looking for her after all.

Luckily, she was kept from saying anything too harsh as another blast shook the ground beneath them.

The pair locked eyes and there was a silent agreement to get back to this later.

They took off running, charging over the roofs as Chat closed the distance between them in a single roll.

“I hope you haven’t gotten rusty in your acting, My Lady.” He purred as they cleared another alley.

Marinette kept herself from growling at the young man. “Oh, I’m not the one you have to worry about, Kitty.”

And there was the long-awaited snarl as Chat took off ahead of her, dropping down to run along the street instead.

Marinette smiled in spite of herself. She knew that nickname annoyed him, and he knew she used it just to bug the living hell out of him.

They’d been in a feud ever since he tried to capture her for the first time. Until then, they’d worked together just fine. Now, for some reason, he thought she’d stolen something from his father, even though she had no idea who his father even was.

Still, he always tried and failed, to take her captive for the sake of his dear old pops.

Each battle was a new adventure for them, and after getting a bolt the size of a tire thrown at her head, Marinette knew this was going to be another fun one.

Notes:

I FREAKING LOVE STEAMPUNK AND EMENY AUS.Strong language and very, ahem, adult themes are going to be presented.

Chapter 2: Close Encounters

Summary:

Chat Noir and Ladybug have a little tangle after a fight, and Marinette finds something out about Chat that she never imagined knowing.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“If I didn’t know any better,” Chat purred as he flexed his wrists in Marinette’s grasp. “I’d swear you’ve done this before.”

Marinette chuckled, setting her hips down on his as she panted for breath, trying to get control of her racing mind. “And who on earth would I have done this with other than you, Kitty?”

He shrugged, pulling his hands farther over his head and effectively forcing her to lay flush against him. “I don’t know. Have you been cheating on me, My Lady?”

She hissed out a bitter laugh, tapping his pulse point thoughtfully. “Well, technically it wouldn’t be cheating if it were just practice, now would it?”

He smiled, leaning up ever so slightly to brush the tip of his nose against hers. Marinette grimaced and pulled away as far as she could, once again cursing the fact that he was taller than her.

She could smell the sweat coming off the two of them, and could feel it running down her back in cooling lines. “Have you been practicing, My Lady?” Chat asked, one of his claws toying with the back of her arm.

She shot him a bitter smile. “Maybe...”

He hummed deep in his throat, testing the grip she had on him once again before freezing when she shifted on his hips, trying to get more comfortable.

“How long do you intend on staying like that?” Chat questioned, an eyebrow raising at the flush it pulled into the tallest part of her cheekbones.

She shot him a weary smile as she tried to catch her breath and assess the situation. “To be honest, Kitty. I almost enjoy this. It gives me enough time to think.”

She looked around the warehouse they had gotten into.

It was one of the smelters at the corner of town, meant for melting down old and rusted chunks of road or buildings to be reused. It was hotter than hell in here with all the furnaces going at once.

The position the teens had landed in wasn’t helping much either.

After the battle was won and they’d put on the loving couple gimmick long enough for the public they'd slipped into the back alleys. There, they’d started up another sparring match, leaping and crashing into one another while landing blows that never actually seemed to do anything.

Then she’d thought she’d been smart, slinging her yo-yo and herself up to the top story of the nearest building, trying to get up to the roof before he could slash at her.

It had worked, but only for a moment as he’d followed on his staff and collided with her, knocking the both of them through a skylight and into a grappling match in the air.

When they hit Chat had taken most of the fall, Marinette landing on top. She’d used that to her advantage, pinning him to the floor by his wrists and straddling him so he couldn’t kick her.

And here they were, flush together in a hot sweatshop, drenched and panting as they each tried to come up with a way to get out of the situation. Marinette could hear one of the clocks on her corset time out, its gears slowly coming to a stop.

She was running out of time. She only had ten minutes before her transformation would begin to weaken, and once that began she’d only have five minutes before it left her entirely.

She needed to be home in that time. But how to get away from this boy?

She heard a huff below her but didn’t look at him. “What’s the matter, Kitty? Can’t handle your lady being so close?”

She could feel his smirk as he stared up at her, hooking one of his legs around her ankle. “Actually, My Lady, I was trying to decide if I should show off some of my new moves or not—”

Marinette was just turning to look at him when his hands gripped her wrists tightly, just the tips of his claws finding any purchase. She winced and squeaked in surprise as she was suddenly tumbling to the side, her legs falling to the floor in a harsh thump as Chat Noir was suddenly on top of her.

But this position was different and left her no room to breathe.

Chat laid atop her, one of his legs between hers as his hips pressed into her thigh. Their chests were flush together and his face hovered just above hers. If he wanted to, he only had to move an inch to press their lips together, but she knew the flirting was all an act.

Oh, if Alya could see them now.

He smirked down at her flustered and frightened expression as he drug her hands high above her head, leaving her fighting futilely against the mechanical grip. “—because I've been practicing too.”

And suddenly Marinette knew there was no way of getting out of this. He had the lead this time, and he seemed to know what he was doing.

She fought against his grip again, futilely pulling at the claws that had now dug themselves into the floor. She looked around, trying to think of something, anything, that would get her out of this.

There was the steady feeling of his breath on her skin, the rhythmic beating of his heart through his chest, and even the sound of his tongue sliding out across his lips, but there was no scrambling for any sort of restraint or weapon.

Marinette looked back up at Chat Noir, waiting for him to jump up, take out his baton and try to knock her out. But, he didn’t move.

She studied the young man above her, eyes ghosting his features. They were unreadable, schooled into a practiced looked of reserved thought, but his gaze betrayed him.

Through the goggles she could see them scanning her, taking in all that he could see, but more specifically her face, trying to memorize every detail.

She watched as they made a slow trek around her profile, landing on each facet. They traced her forehead, following the curve of her brow bone to her cheek. Following that curve to her nose, then flashing to her eyes before moving lower, and finally coming to rest on what she guessed was either her chin or her lips.

She swallowed and let her mouth fall open into a soft O with her panting breaths. Chat hadn’t taken his eyes off her lips, and she couldn’t even begin to imagine why.

Something in her chest stirred, just as she came up with a way to get out of this position.

The front of his hips were currently pressed into her thigh. If she just raised her leg fast enough he’d…

She tried it, her knee popping up as fast as she could get it to move. She hit her target head on and watched Chat’s reaction.

His eyes locked on hers just as his face contorted and he nearly curled in on himself. His knees came up, allowing his back to arch as his head fell down towards his chest, pants escaping his lips.

Two things Marinette did not anticipate: 1.) When his knees slid up one went directly between her legs, causing her a great deal of her own discomfort, and 2.) as he’d curled in on himself he’d let his lips drag along the side of her face, and now he rested with his face pressed into the crook of her neck and his breath fanning out over her chest and throat.

Marinette ignored the way the lip brushing had made her shiver and had to block out the new feeling his breath was causing on her skin. She’d felt this all before, and knew none of it meant a thing to her, so long as she could get out of here.

She sat up then, pushing him off of her as he continued to inwardly curl. Soon she was standing, and he was in a ball on the floor with his eyes screwed shut and his hands between his legs.

A twinge of guilt hit Marinette’s mind as she looked down at the young man, but it left as soon as his malice filled eyes were turned back on her.

“That was low,” he croaked out, “even for you.”

She scoffed, judging the distance between the ceiling beams and her current position. “I only stoop as low as the situation requires.”

The way his gaze burned as it touched her was not reassuring, but she didn’t turn to look at the blond as she swung her yo-yo up, hooking onto one of the rafters and testing its strength.

Good enough to hold her up.

She turned back to find Chat now having risen to one knee, but his leg still shook under him. “I’ll get you back for that.”

She smirked. “I don’t doubt it.”

She turned then, her hands poised on her yo-yo string as she readied her feet for another jump, but she was hit sideways suddenly by Chat as he charged her.

She held tight to her string, it swinging them around as she tried to take the weight of his impact. His clawed hands hissed as the steam-powered compression units made their grip impossibly strong around her arms. She wanted to scream but kept the sound in her throat as she kicked out at him, hitting one of his knees.

He dropped to the ground in a kneel, his claws still wrapped around her arm. She was thankful his claws weren’t extended but worried that he wouldn’t be so soft on her in the next few seconds.

“Let go of me, you clingy cat.”

“Not until you give me what you stole.” He purred in her ear as he shot back to his feet, reassuring his grip on her.

She struggled in his arms. “We’ve been over this, Kitty. I don’t know what you’re talking about. What did I steal?”

He went silent for a moment and Marinette had a sudden realization. “You don’t actually know what I supposedly stole, do you?”

She could hear the grinding of his teeth just above her shoulder as his fingers curled impossibly tighter on her arms, making tears prick her eyes. “Shut up. You still stole something, and until you return it I’m not letting you go.”

Then I guess I’ll just have to get away again, she thought and clicked a button on the handle to her string.

The pull of their weight was enough for her to feel even with the mechanical help of her right brace as the two were rocketed into the air. Chat yelped and held tight to her, more for his own safety than for trying to capture her now.

She stopped only feet from the beam, waiting for him to let go, but Chat’s mechanical claws were still clamped onto her arms in a surprisingly sure grip.

“Put us down.” He hissed.

“Let go and I’ll think about it.”

He growled. “You know, I’m one second away from digging these claws into you.”

“You would have done it already if you were going to.” She commented, reveling in his angry silence. “Now, be a good kitty and let go of your lady.”

He chuckled bitterly from her shoulder, wrapping his legs around her waist. “Not gonna happen. These hands can stay like this for a few more hours.”

Marinette didn’t have a few more hours, and she knew it. She had to get this cat off, and now.

“Fine, we’ll do this the hard way.” She said and started messing with the mechanics on her string handle.

Before she really knew what she’d entered in, she was suddenly being shaken up and down and spun in circles. She started to feel sick, having to tense her muscles so her neck wouldn’t be snapped back from all the jarring.

Chat’s fingers did their best to hold onto her, but soon she felt his hands start to slip, and just barely clipping onto the back of her corset as they were swung around. She heard the engaging of his claws and knew that they had found purchase in the soft leather, her only hope was that it wouldn’t rip.

Unfortunately, it did. To its credit the corset lasted much longer than she had expected, only two or three of the clasps coming undone in the front. The back, on the other hand, finally ripped through when his claws tore through the material and pulled out a chunk.

Marinette did feel a small spark of guilt as Chat was thrown through the air, smacking back first into one of the scaffolding holding up the ceiling.

She stopped the mechanisms of her yo-yo and watched as he fell to the ground, slumping in a pile.

When he didn’t move she started to get worried. When she didn’t see any motion in his chest, she started to consider going down. When he didn’t respond to his own name, she started to panic.

She lowered herself with her yo-yo, dropping down to the floor and taking off in a run towards his motionless form. “No, no no no no!”

She dropped to her knees next to him and reached out, taking his head in her hands carefully as she sprawled him on his back. She couldn’t tell if he was breathing.

Marinette’s mind went into overdrive. She’d never meant to hurt the young man, let alone possibly kill him. His armored suit should have protected him, but now that it didn’t what was she supposed to do?

The longer she looked down at the blond, the hotter her blood ran. “You, stupid cat,” she barked as she gripped his hair possibly a little too tight. “You should have let go! Why can't you just let this thievery thing go? I hate hurting you. You stupid, stupid cat.”

She closed her eyes as her face flushed and her vision blurred. Her grip loosened on his hair as her instincts told her not to hurt him anymore.

She ran her hands through his locks, trying to breathe and trying to keep her panic from rising.

She couldn’t have killed him, she couldn’t. He must just be faking it right?

But, then why wasn't he moving?

She gripped his hair again when she couldn’t calm the rise and fall of her chest. She needed to ground herself somehow and keep her mind away from the thought this maybe coming out to the public.

Something warm slid over her hands, and the frantic pounding in her chest stopped. She didn’t look, hoping that it wasn’t his blood, but her mind was telling her she was being absurd.

“I know I’m stupid and all,” Chat said with a grin as she opened her eyes. “But I know better than to cry over a person who isn’t even dead.”

Marinette’s eyes dodged over his features, scanning his eyes, then the grin, then to his hands encompassing hers. She saw that he was indeed breathing and that his arms seemed to be in good use. And when he slid one of his legs up to move him a little closer to her, she knew he was alright.

Marinette went through so many emotional stages within a single moment that her head began to spin. Surprise, shock, confusion, relief, and finally anger.

She scowled and stood, dropping his head back to the ground. “You’re such a jerk. I thought I’d killed you.”

He grinned up at her. “Well, it does hurt to move, but don’t forget, cats have nine lives.”

Marinette stared down at his cocky face as she contemplated what a well-aimed kick to the top of his head would do. She decided against it since she’d just thrown him into a big metal beam after all. “Go to hell.”

He smiled and rolled over slowly, propping himself up on his elbows. “Been there already. The devil kicked me out.”

She scoffed and turned around. “Damn you, Chat Noir.”

He winced as he sat up. “Those who're already in Hell can’t be damned, My Lady.”

“Then what can I say or do to torture you more?” She snapped as she grabbed her yo-yo.

The smirk that crossed his face was different this time. There was something unfathomable behind it. “You could run away again. Leave me in a world without you, My Lady.”

Marinette paused in her path of leaving. She looked over at the blond, studying him carefully. She saw the way his face contorted the longer she looked at him, and how he quickly looked away with a scowl.

She didn’t know what scared her more. The fact that she didn’t know what his look meant, or the fact that she didn’t know if he was joking or not.

“Well,” she started slowly, “if you really would hate the world without me in it, then why do you always want to stop me?”

The way his face darkened put a cold stone in her stomach and the look he was giving one of the furnaces was only comparative to the machine’s fire. “It’s for my father.”

Marinette couldn’t help the scoff that escaped her. “Of course, it is.”

She started the mechanisms in her yo-yo and rose into the air, looking back down at the leather clad hero below. “I wish you luck on getting home, Kitty.”

She could hear his growl from her perch and smiled as he glared up at her. “I will make you mine, Ladybug. One day!”

“Is that a promise?” She asked, but didn’t wait for the answer.

She leaped through the broken skylight and took off running. She had maybe five minutes left, and she needed to get home and changed before anyone noticed the damage done to her outfit. Luckily she had a backup corset at home.

She only hoped Chat’s injuries were enough to keep him from following her.


“Tikki! Bring me the screwdriver, please!” Marinette shouted as another jet of water sprung from the regulator.

“I told you it wasn’t going to work.” The kwami noted as she flew over with the tool.

Marinette hissed as she went to work on trying to re-secure the water valve. “Everything else works. It’s only the sprinklers this time.”

“At least it waited until you were changed to break down.” Tikki joked.

Marinette was grateful for the timing, actually, and the fact that she no longer had to take a shower. So much water had dumped over her in the past two minutes that all the mud and sweat from the night’s adventures had been washed away.

It took a moment, but after shutting off the water and struggling with a bent riveting she was able to secure the valve and chamber again easily.

When she turned the water back on she was relieved to see the machinery working and purring away, all secure except for a small leak towards the bottom.

Tikki came over to study the dripping as well, whirring disapprovingly.

Marinette looked at her small red companion and shrugged. “I’ll weld it in the morning.”

Tikki giggled and landed on Marinette’s shoulder as she bent to open the hatch leading to her room. “You mean when you wake up?”

Marinette looked at the Kwami questioningly. “What do you mean?”

Tikki smirked. “We only have an hour or so before the sun’s up, Mari.”

Marinette shook her head, looking out the greenhouse’s windows to see the lightening sky. Who knew she’d been out all night with Chat Noir and Hawkmoth’s stupid Akumas?

She sighed, looking down at her little friend as she started down the ladder to her room. “Okay, then whenever I wake up.”

When her head cleared the hatch she reached up to pull it shut. As she did, she noticed out of the corner of her eye some movement in the other end of the greenhouse, a section she’d left the ceiling windows open to air out the excess mist.

She stopped, scanning the room, but couldn’t see anything else. But something was different. She could hear a small tapping, nothing too out of the ordinary. But it was there, a soft thumping that was almost muted.

She didn’t have to look to know Tikki had heard it too and had flown off to hide in her room. “Hello?” She called into the dark fauna nursery.

No response, of course not.

She doubted there would be a burglar. No one really wanted to deal with the hassle of planting and tending to flowers so closely, no matter how highly they sold or how much one could charge for them.

Marinette didn’t ignore the small knot in her stomach as she climbed back out onto the tiled floor, her back tightening as she slowly closed it and stood, looking around.

The hazy light flowing in through the windows made everything eerily colorless in the room.

It gave her a small chill as she walked the familiar rows of plants she knew burst with pigment.

She rounded the corner, coming upon her work and organization area. This was where she made the arrangements and prepped the flowers for deliveries and pick-ups.

Work benches ran the length of one wall, while some of the more classic flowers lined the others. There was a box of roses, tulips, and some begonias.

But there was also something in the corner that didn’t belong.

She could only see his silhouette, but she knew the person was male by their tall frame and broad shoulders.

They stood with their back to the wall, a coat covering most of them. All she got was the smallest glints of metal here and there from the goggles he was wearing, off his hand (maybe a ring?), and from the lining of his boots.

She watched the figure carefully but still acted like she didn’t see him, walking over to one of her benches to look out the windows she’d left open, grabbing a pair of garden shears as she leaned on the table.

When she heard him start to approach she whirled around, holding the shears at her side and watching as he slowly came out of the dark shadows.

Her heart leaped into her throat and started hammering as she saw who it was.

Chat Noir stepped out into the morning light, his goggles glinting a muted green.

She didn’t understand how he was here, or how he was even still in his transformation. It had been over an hour since she’d last seen him, surely by now he would have timed out.

And yet, here he was, slowly approaching her with his eyes like glass grating over every aspect of her.

“Ch-Chat Noir?” She questioned, letting the shock and surprise into her voice.

He paused for a moment, not only in his movement but his relentless scrutinizing. Then he seemed to take on the normal bravado he reserved for the public.

He bowed deeply with a small smirk. “I’m sorry if I scared you, Miss. But you see, I’ve lost My Lady. Have you by chance seen her?”

Marinette brought the shears up to her chest, holding them with two hands protectively. Something was wrong with Chat. He was much tenser than usual, and his speech sounded clipped and worn down. He seemed...feral almost.

“Your Lady?” Marinette questioned, her voice sounding a little too sarcastic. “Do you mean Ladybug?”

Chat’s polite grin wavered. “Y-yes. Yes. I mean Ladybug.”

Marinette studied Chat carefully, the way his shoulders were perfectly squared, the way his jaw was clenched, the way his hands twitched slightly at his side. “Why are you looking for her? Aren’t you two a couple? You should know where she is.”

She saw one of his mechanical ears quirk slightly and she knew he’d picked up on the hints of sarcasm in her voice. “You don’t think we’re together, do you?”

Marinette scoffed. “Not really. I mean, no offense, you two are good actors and all, but I don’t believe a relationship founded on fighting crime would be a good one.”

His shoulders slackened a little as a breathy chuckle escaped his nose. “I guess you’re right.”

“So, why are you looking for her?” Marinette already knew the reason. But if she wanted to keep the act up, she needed to stay curious.

Chat looked around the small room, his hands coming to rest in one another at his back. “Well, you see, Ladybug took something I would love for her to return.”

“Oh?”

Chat hmmed and grinned. "Despite what the press says, I'm sorry to say it wasn't my heart."

“What did she steal?” Maybe now she’d be able to get it out of him.

But she knew she’d asked the wrong question as soon as his shoulders tensed and he turned on her. “See, that’s kind of the problem. She didn’t steal it from me, so I don’t know. She took something from someone very importnat, and he wants me to bring her to him so he can get it back.”

Even in the dark, it was impossible to miss the way his eyes were back to scrutinizing her; her every feature, her every moment, even when her fingers accidentally slipped and she dropped the shears to the floor.

The sound of them hitting the tiles was deafening, but she couldn’t bend to get them, not with him so close and so dangerously focused on her.

“Okay, that makes sense,” she spoke slowly as she tried to find a way to get back her only tool for defense. “But why are you here? Why are you asking me?”

The chuckles started softly and low in his chest as he started towards her, but they rose the closer he got until it was a peal of roaring and violently aggressive laughter. “That’s the thing, Princess,” he said softly as he looked down at her. “I have this hunch. It involves you.”

Marinette was vibrating, or it at least seemed that way. She’d never been scared of another person before, but now...she was terrified, and of none other than the young man she knew she could normally easily take on as Ladybug.

But she wasn’t Ladybug, and she had no way of easily defending herself. Except those shears.

That’s why she gambled on dropping to the floor to grab them.

Chat Noir was much faster than she remembered, or was she just slower? As she dropped his hand shot out, closing strongly around her throat and lifting her carefully back to her feet as his claws closed around the soft skin above her arteries.

Panic exploded behind her eyes as fear erupted in her chest. Her blood ran cold and suddenly she lost all cognitive thought besides those surrounding the grip on her windpipe and how she was possibly going to die.

Chat leaned in close, his breath tickling her ear as she utterly turned to stone at the sound of his whispered threat, “If you go for those shears again, I will not hesitate to use them against you, Princess.”

She didn’t react, her eyes going as wide as saucers as her mind went into overdrive, trying to come up with things she could say or do that wouldn’t end up with her hurt or dead.

This wasn't Marinette's nomral Chat Noir, she was sure of that. She had never seen him act this way before and it sent her reeling as she tried to think of what to do. How do you predict the actions of someone you've never dealt with before?

“Clear?” Chat hissed.

“Crystal.”

“Good.”

She heard and felt the rush of air and the hiss of steam on her cheek as the claws disengaged, falling from around her throat to allow her to breathe. She took in deep lungfuls of air as Chat Noir backed away, looking around the greenhouse.

He scrutinized the flowers, gently worrying one of the petals on a rose with his metallic claws. “You won’t tell me where Ladybug is?”

Marinette let out a bark of laughter, which made Chat snap around to glare at her. "Why do you think I'd know?”

Chat smiled, letting go of the rose to approach her slowly. Marinette didn’t back down, and that’s probably what made him stop a few feet away, his gaze taking her in. “Ladybug’s love flowers, so, I supposed she’d come here. I mean, she looked like someone from the surface with the dirt in her hair…”

He moved so fast she could barely keep up. His claw snatching the rose he’d been toying with from its soil and lifting it to her agape mouth, forcing her lower jaw to close around the stem with a single pointed claw under her chin. She was terrified at how dangerously in control of the situation he was, and how he appeared to be willing to harm her. She backed up as far as she could, her back stopping at a workbench.

She froze as he chuckled, his arm fully extended to keep the nail holding her teeth in place.

“Or maybe she’s someone who simply wants a piece of the surface to always be with her…”

He trailed off, his eyes scanning her every inch, including the small sewing kit on the side of her thigh. Marinette silently thanked Tikki for hiding earlier as he seemed to search her for something.

She tried swallowing nervously but was greeted with the bitter-sweet taste of plant nectar on her tongue.

She spat it out, ignoring the way it dug his claw into her skin. “If you're insinuating that I'm Ladybug then why haven't you tied me up and hauled me away yet?”

Chat’s grin was worthy of his namesake. “While the thought of tying you up is quite appealing—” he switched his claw around to rest in the hollow of her throat—”I have to be sure I’m bringing the right girl back. And, unfortunately, I doubt you’re the right girl.”

He pulled back his arm then, and as if to emphasize the point Marinette’s legs buckled under her, causing her to sink down to the floor.

She stared up at him, his smirk not going unnoticed. She wanted nothing more than to grin up at him, to tell him that he couldn’t be any more wrong.

Better judgment kept her mouth shut.

She’d never before seen him this intimidating, nor had she felt this kind of dangerous energy surrounding him. And that’s when she noticed the slight dilation of his eyes, the faster rise and fall of his chest, and the tense manner in which he stood.

He wasn’t just looking for Ladybug, he was hunting her. But why?

He seemed to notice the new focus in her eyes and turned away, targeting some more flowers with his gaze instead. “So, you have no idea where Ladybug is?”

“Why are you looking for her?” Marinette asked, her voice stronger than she would have guessed.

As Chat turned back to lock his laser gaze on her, she stood, her knees shaking slightly. “I already told you. I need to return her to my fa--superior. She’s stolen something of his and needs to be brought to justice.”

“Then why not just tell the authorities?” She questioned, each word bubbling out of her with her new-found confidence. “Why not just let them handle it? Why are you looking for her?”

She heard the snarl long before she reached out to touch his turning shoulder. She knew the sound and knew it from long battles with him. He was getting ready to pounce or curl up into a protective and dangerous bubble, but she didn’t care. He wouldn’t hurt her.

At least, that was her hope.

She was wrong.

As she grabbed his shoulder and turned him toward her, using the momentum to charge at her. His hand came back to her neck, his fingers closing around her skin as she gasped.

He didn’t just hold her this time. He lifted her up, backing her up until she’d passed one of her workbenches, the wood scraping along her thighs. He kept coming, standing between her legs as her head finally pressed into the window, her body fully atop the table.

She could still breathe, but the force of his hand would surely leave bruises. But she noticed something, he wasn’t using his claws this time. He was being careful with her. But why?

“You want to really know?” He ground out between clenched teeth. “You wanna know why I’ve been chasing her? Why I never really fight her? Why I never actually capture her?”

Marinette decided it best not to let the ice flowing through her blood show. She stared him down, her gaze remaining hard even though she knew she might start crying any moment.

He was too close. Her feet were off the ground, her thighs and back atop the table while her calves dangled off, him between them to make sure she couldn’t kick him. Her head was pressed into the glass, and the weight of the forearm now running along her sternum was enough to press her down into the table.

She wanted nothing more than to move, to get up, but she was at his mercy as her fingers went to claw at his metal protected grip.

“The reason I chase her is because I know her better that the police.” He spat it out like it was poison, his golden locks slipping down to hide one of his eyes. “I chase her because she’s the only girl that doesn't deserve to be tied down. Not by anyone, not even me.”

Marinette froze, the words stinging her ears like she’d just been slapped.

She watched him and saw little things she’d never noticed before: the little hint of pink to his eyes, the subtle shaking in his arm as he held her, the way he spoke the word ‘her’ like it was a blessing and a curse.

He didn't want her to be tied down by anyone. The odd wording made her pause.

People only talked about being tied down when it came to-

She muscles locked up as the ice in her veins started flowing with a different bite.

Oh, no, kitty, she thought as something close to pity touched her heart.

She understood now.

He was in love with Ladybug.

She felt sorry for the cat. He'd dug his heart into a trench she couldn't even see a way out of.

“That’s a good thing, though.” She choked out, her voice gravelly and harsh to her own ears.

She didn’t regret the words, she simply regretted the response they received. Chat tightened his grip around her throat, taking it to the point in which it was just impossible to breathe.

She started squirming under his hold, clawing frantically at his hand as her lungs began to burn for air.

“What does that mean?” He hissed out, his voice venom to her ears.

Black dots were dancing in front of Marinette’s eyes as she pounded weakly on his wrist, her other hand clawing at his thumb, hoping to get some leverage on the digit.

Finally, he seemed to take pity on the girl and released his grip enough to allow her to breathe. She gasped, wheezing and coughing as she struggled to take in air and clear away the black in her vision.

She hacked like a smoker as his hand still remained on her neck, still restricting her windpipe.

“Talk.” He barked, his fingers tightening ever so slightly.

Marinette took one last lung of air before looking up at him, tears in her eyes as she said, “She's the hero of the Plat. If you take her out you'll be all alone again.”

His muscles locked, she could feel it in the way his fingers went still on her skin and could see it in the way his chest seemed to stop rising and falling. “What?”

She took a moment to breathe before going on. “You guys have been partners for what, six years? It's not unknown that you don't exactly have the best reputation between the two and without her Akumas would run rampant. You'd be all alone and you know it.”

Now it was his turn to gape at her. Marinette had never seen those green eyes so wondering before and never before had she seen him look so scared at the same time.

He looked scared of her; a girl pinned down to a table with his hand around her throat and tears running down her face.

He was scared of the truth.

It shocked her into stopping her tears, and it kept her going. “If you really want to get Ladybug to be yours, you need to stop chasing her. Why can't you guys just be a team?”

He stared at her for a long moment, and Marinette couldn’t have blamed him. She was shocked by her boldness.

The silence stretched on and seemed to weigh on the two of them more than his arm across her chest. She could feel her own pulse in her neck slowing down, while through his gloves she could feel his speeding up.

She’d triggered something in him that she didn’t quite understand, and it gave her a new understanding of the young man.

He wasn’t just a young vigilante who was out for her. He wasn’t a robber that had broken into her little shop. He wasn’t the terrible boy she’d made him out to be.

He was a young man following orders.

He looked ready to say something, his lips parting and his throat bobbing nervously, as they heard the door open to the side of the shop.

Something was dropped on the floor and it brought Chat’s attention away from Marinette, and in that instant, she saw him turn back into the scoundrel he’d made himself out to be. He glared and hissed at the new person, releasing Marinette to step away, pulling out his staff.

And before Marinette could get out another word, he was gone, shooting up through the skylight and out into the morning light.

“Mari!” She heard screamed from her side as a strong hand shook her arm, pulling her from the haze.

She turned to look at who it was and was surprised to see a concerned Alya at her side.

“Alya?”

“Mari. Mari! Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Alya started sending questions like bullets, running her hands across Marinette’s face as she checked for marks.

“N-no. He didn’t hurt me.” Marinette stuttered hazily, swallowing as Alya’s hands stilled on her shoulders.

“But, Mari, your neck!” Alya nearly screamed, pulling her hands back in shock.

Marinette shook her head. “He didn’t hurt me, Alya.”

She turned to look up through the skylight. “He didn’t hurt me.”

Notes:

This took too long, blech. I’m lame, sorry.
For everyone following this, I'm sorry. I've had a lot of things going on in my personal life as of late that I've been having to deal with. Thanks for the patience.

Chapter 3: Broken Justice

Summary:

Chat Noir tries to apologize to Marinette after what happened and gets what he deserves…or does he?

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“I’m fine, really. You can go now.” Marinette said as she attempted once again to push her brunette friend out the door.

“You don’t sound fine.” Alya pointed out as she easily stood her ground in the room.

Marinette huffed and pushed harder. “It’s only minor damage, my voice will be fine.”

“It’s still damage.” Alya pointed out.

The brunette turned to the side, allowing her friend to go stumbling out onto the deck of her shop. Marinette barely caught herself as she ran into the hand bar keeping her from falling to the street below.

She turned and glared back at her friend. “That was rude.”

Alya cracked a grin and waved it off. “It only proves you need me around. You’re still hurt.”

“I also have cleaning and repairs to do, and you have some articles to write for the press, don’t you?”

Alya’s eye twitched slightly at the thought of actually doing work. “Yeah...but this could be a part of my story.”

Marinette groaned. “No, I’m not gonna be an exclusive.”

“Oh, come on! You can tell me what Chat Noir was doing here, and why he attacked you. Imagine the views!”

Marinette thought about it. As much as she would love to besmirch the name of the young man, she found her lips letting slip a resounding, “No.”

Alya pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re no help.”

Marinette sighed and stood back up, grabbing her friend and pulling her outside. “I never am when I have things to do and sleep to catch up on. C’mon, Alya. I haven’t slept in twenty hours. Please.”

It only took a little coaxing from Marinette’s tired puppy-dog eyes to bring the brunette outside. “Fine. But if you feel like ever giving me an interview, just call.”

Marinette nodded, smiling. “Alright, I will. Have a good day, Alya.”

Alya smiled and hugged her friend before finally taking off down the copper path that led to the street below. Marinette couldn’t help herself from letting out a sigh of relief.

She walked back inside and couldn’t find the energy in her to actually go downstairs to her bed. Instead, she flipped the open sign to closed and threw herself onto the consultation couch in the corner of the shop.

She felt exhausted, and every muscle in her screamed never to move again, and she agreed. Especially with the bruises on her neck.

The aching purple and black collar Chat had left her with had been fussed over all day until finally Alya had simply wrapped some bandages around her throat to keep her from constantly touching and worrying over it.

“Honestly,” she grumbled to herself as she toyed with the bandages. “I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.”

Sure you are.” Said a small voice from above her.

Marinette groaned and turned to see Tikki sitting on her decorative pillows. “I am. I mean, I’m twenty now and have my own business. I can handle myself.”

“Is that why you haven’t slept yet and you’re still playing with your neck?”

Marinette huffed and pulled her hand away. “What’s your point?”

“I don’t really have one.” Tikki admitted and started climbing down the material of her pillow, surprisingly only sinking slightly into the fabric despite her metallic body. “I actually have a question.”

“Go ahead,” Marinette said as her companion came to sit in front of her.

“Why did you keep telling Alya that he didn’t hurt you?”

Marinette was stricken by the question and had to turn her head away to avoid the prying eyes of her Kwami.

The truth was, she didn’t know. No matter how many times Alya had told her that he’d hurt her, nearly killed her, she’d denied it. She’d just kept assuring her friend that she was fine, and that he hadn’t done anything.

“I don’t know.” She admitted after a little. “I guess, I just didn’t want Alya to worry about me.”

There came a little hum from Tikki as the mechanical bug girl came to lay down next to her chosen. “Maybe you did it because you wanted to protect Chat more than Alya.”

Marinette let out a small chuckle. “Now, there’s a thought.”

Sleep was calling to her now, and she couldn’t help herself from following it into a deep slumber.

That is until she felt something brush her cheek and heard something above her.

Her eyes drifted open slowly and were greeted with the soft orange and pink light of evening pouring in through the windows. She groaned and rolled onto her back, throwing an arm over her eyes as she came to slowly accept the fact that she’d slept through the day, and probably missed a few potential consultations in the process.

“I still have to fix that stupid regulator.” She groaned to herself and let her arm fall away from her face.

“Would you like some help?”

In an instant, all of Marinette’s muscles locked and her pulse went into double time. Her eyes flicked to the side as her chest seemed to virtually stop moving.

He was kneeling next to her, framed in the golden light and the familiar flowers of her front foyer, and Marinette wasn’t one to miss the irony of the look: the tranquility of her home, mixing with the panic and fear-inducing intruder looming by her side.

Her blood turned to ice, suddenly eradicating the soreness from her muscles and mind. The only thing that was left was the pure and raging panic that made every nerve in her body sing and her mind jump into hyperdrive.

The first thing she thought of was Tikki, but the whir of her little friend was now somewhere else in the room, and Marinette was glad that the little companion had made her way elsewhere without being seen.

Her next worry was on how she was supposed to defend herself, closely followed by the fact that lying on her back with her arms above her head wasn’t the best position to start off in.

The final thing was the hot shock that came to her when she noticed Chat Noir’s eyes.

He was looking almost exclusively at her throat, not saying a word as his eyes traced the bandages carefully.

It was only a couple of seconds between her opening her eyes and Marinette reacting, but to the both of them it felt like a lifetime.

Finally, she shot up, turning her back against the couch as she tried to scramble away. She brought her knees up to her chest and her arms up to block him away as she contemplated her chances of her parents hearing her scream.

That is, until she saw the way Chat backed away, and brought his hands up in surrender. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Her lungs were working again, but her mouth wasn’t. She couldn’t tell if it was her brain, her vocal cords, or her throat itself that wasn’t working; either way she couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence or even make a noise pass her lips.

“Please,” Chat said softly and took out his staff. “I just came to apologize.”

At the sight of the metallic weapon Marinette flinched and whimpered as she crossed her arms close across her chest.

Good job, she scolded herself. You’re Ladybug, and all you can do now is sit whining and shaking.

But Marinette’s noises were cut short as she saw Chat slowly leaning to the side to place his weapon on the ground, taking his hand away easily.

Marinette still didn’t trust it. He had his claws slightly extended and she couldn’t keep her eyes from them as they glinted in the soft light.

He seemed to notice, following her gaze until they came to land on his fingertips. After a confused look, Chat seemed to realize, and flicked his thumb so the claws would contract fully.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he started slowly. “I was just...I was angry with myself and with Ladybug. I didn’t mean to take it out on you and that was wrong of me. Please, can you look at me so I know you’re hearing me?”

Marinette hadn’t realized her eyes were glued to the vase on her right until he’d mentioned it. But, she couldn’t pry her eyes off the fauna filled pottery for her life. The best she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and…

Something hot and wet went rolling down her cheeks.

Great, now you’re crying, she growled internally. That will really make him leave.

The soft touch on her shoulder did nothing more than send her into a panicked flailing spree in which she nearly kicked Chat’s nose off his face.

When he’d finally backed away, and Marinette had gone back to panting and sitting facing him, she found herself staring at the carpet before him. She still couldn’t look at him, but for safety’s sake, she’d have to at least face him now to make sure he didn’t come any closer.

“I—” Chat cut himself off, cursing at himself under his breath.

Marinette found the strength in her to look up at him, only to see his eyes locked on the curtain leading back into the greenhouse.

“I’m sorry for what I did.” He said after a moment, not taking his glare from the doorway.

Fire burned in Marinette’s chest as she heard the words leave his mouth, and she wanted nothing more in that moment than to make him hurt, and make him feel her anger.

“No, you aren’t.” She croaked out, hiding the flinch at how hoarse and scratched her voice sounded.

Chat looked surprised, his expression slackening before turning back to her. She found the strength to keep talking, and to keep her tear stained eyes locked on his. “If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have done it in the first place. You wouldn’t have broken in again and tried to come near me. You would have done something else, like leave a letter on the door or maybe sent something to be delivered.”

Chat’s expression hardened slightly as his jaw snapped shut. “Call me old fashioned, but I believe in human interaction, not the coward’s way of leaving a note or sending a 'sorry for attacking you' gift.”

Marinette was hit by his words and she couldn’t help the shock from her expression. She felt her anger rising, not only at him, but at herself, because she knew he was right.

She looked away, not wanting him to see her frustration.

The silence that stretched on was less than comfortable to say the least. Chat simply watched her as Marinette tried to get her mind into sorts.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Can I see it?”

Marinette didn’t look at him as she let out a bitter laugh. “And why would I let you? So you can feed your sadistic mind?”

She heard the small huff from him. “So I can make sure I didn’t do anything majorly damaging.”

It took a long moment, and a lot of debating on Marinette’s part, but she finally let her hand move.

She slowly reached up, hooking her fingers into rings of bandages and unwinding them. As each loop was taken away, more of her throat was revealed to the open air, and the hotter each spot Chat’s gaze met felt.

When the end finally came loose and drifted to her lap she felt suddenly naked before him, and refused to look his way. She already knew how bad it was, and didn’t need to see the fake pity on his face.

The marks were impressively savage in their severity. Each of his fingers was easily seen in the black and purple lines. They branched out in small veins that ran up and down away from the bruises.

Her brain registered his gasp, but didn’t want to react. Still, the bitterness flowing through her made her react before she could rationalize. “You enjoying the view?” She venomously spat out. “Quite impressive, huh?”

“I—” He cut himself off again, tsking softly as he seemed to think over his next words. “I didn’t have the intention of hurting you, let alone causing something like that. I’m sorry.”

Marinette scoffed. “Why don’t I—”

“Marinette.”

The sound of her own name was enough to shock her into looking at him. And what she saw was enough to cut all insults from her mind.

His expression was open and vulnerable. In his eyes she could see his sorrow and pleads. He looked to be silently begging with both her and himself with forgiveness, while his face also showed a sort of reserved compassion he didn’t seem to want to show.

“I know you don’t believe me,” he said, “but I really am trying to make things right. I didn’t mean to hurt you and I’m sorry. Please—”

He reached into his jacket to pull something out and Marinette didn’t panic this time as his hands disappeared under the fabric.

What he pulled out was the most perplexing thing Marinette had ever seen.

It was a crown.

A crown made of flowers.

“I know I’m not someone to be trusted, and that you have every right to hate me. But, I just…” He took a breath before looking up to her and holding out the plant ring. “Just know I mean it when I say, ‘I’m sorry’.”

She looked between him and the crown, having her eyes flickering over all of the flowers.

She knew each type and each species, and she knew she was the only one to grow them. “So...you’re way of apologizing is ruining my merchandise?”

There wasn’t any hate or disgust in her voice this time, if anything it was curious, or even joking.

Chat took a moment before letting out a soft chuckle. “I didn’t take them from your garden, promise. I just thought...well, every princess deserves her own crown.”

There was a flashback to when he’d called her Princess before, and she didn’t exactly know if she liked the nickname or not. “I-I suppose that’s a good enough excuse.”

He looked between her and the crown for a moment before sheepishly rising to his knees. “May I…?”

It took Marinette a moment, but slowly she sat forward, letting the young man shift so he could gently set the crown atop her head. It fit pretty well for him guessing and Marinette appreciated that he’d made it so none of the stems stuck her.

“There, now you look just as noble as you are, Princess.”

“Yeah, still don’t know if I like that name.” Marinette admitted.

Chat smiled. “Would you rather I called you by your name? Marinette? Or Mari for short?”

Marinette scrunched up her nose. Her name rolling so effortlessly off the tongue of a boy she was supposed to hate made her feel...strange.

“No, I think I prefer the nickname.”

Chat stood and bowed. “As you wish, Princess.”

There was a momentary pause as Chat looked her over again, and Marinette was debating whether or not Chat was such a bad guy after all.

“Since it looks like you’re going to be okay, and like you need your rest, I’ll leave you be. Thanks for hearing me out.”

Marinette shrugged. “It’s better than starting another fight and getting myself killed.”

Chat seemed shocked by her words, even moving ever so slightly back at the thought of them. “I—”

There was a moment where she thought she saw horror on his face, but before she could fully tell, he’d schooled his expression back into something soft and maybe even caring.

“I’m not going to do anything that involves you without your permission from now on, Princess.” He said firmly. “And that’s a promise that I will keep.”

Marinette was a little surprised by how sure his voice was. “If you keep that,” she said with only the slightest hint of venom, “I’ll be more than surprised.”

Marinette will never forget the smile that crossed his lips then. She’ll never forget how genuine and bright it was as his perfectly white teeth flashed at her; as the corners of his eyes scrunched up and his gaze brightened behind the tinted glass of his goggles.

Something in Marinette changed then, and she couldn’t explain it, but she knew something in her had shifted when it came to Chat Noir.

“Then I guess my goal from here on out is to surprise you, Princess.” Chat said with the slightest chuckle to his words.

Marinette didn’t know how to respond, too shocked by the new sensation of what she was feeling towards the cat boy. So, it was left to Chat to bow and give her one last cunning grin.

“Till next time.”

And before she knew it, he was gone, through the greenhouse and out the squeaking sunroof panels.

Marinette finally found the words she’d been looking for, but she knew it was too late as Tikki finally came floating out, landing in her lap as Marinette stared at the still moving curtain.

“Till next time, Chaton.”


Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. If you throw up I’ll murder you.

Marinette swore that if she was hit in the stomach one more time she was going to start retching, and was going to try and aim for the young man bouncing around next to her.

Note to self: no trying any of Mom’s experimental curry before going out on a mission.

“What’s the matter, My Lady?” Chat asked as he parried another attack from the akuma. “Having an off day?”

Marinette ground her teeth. She’d almost forgotten how insufferable he was after he’d made that show to apologize to her. “I’m fine, Kitty. You worry about that scaffolding.”

The cat-eared young man turned to her, his eyebrow quirking up. “What scaffolding?”

Just as he asked, the Akuma hurled a razor-sharp washer at him that narrowly missed and cut through the support beam behind the blond, causing that section of roof to collapse around the him.

Marinette couldn’t keep the bitter smile from her face as she rose to her feet. “That scaffolding.”

She turned back to the Akuma, holding her stomach for good measure.

This battle was going on too long. The victim wasn’t even anything threatening, or at least shouldn’t have been. They were a clockmaker that had been insulted for not being able to recreate Ladybug’s timepiece.

She didn’t blame them for getting mad, but it was always surprising the amount of malice that was held in each Akuma.

She still didn’t know where the stupid thing was hiding either. The victim hadn’t yet raised anything to their face to get another wiff of gas, so she had no clue.

She’d just have to guess and check.

She took her yo-yo up and pinpointed three objects that the Akuma could have collapsed down into. A small lens in his glasses, a pouch on his side that kept jangling, and the broken timepiece that was in his hand.

She aimed for the glasses first, using the last of her rational strength and aim not to hit the person themselves as she hooked around the rim.

The optic aids fell to the ground and shattered, but nothing came free of the frames. The only thing it apparently did was anger the Akuma, and make his aim dangerously skewed.

She heard crashes and buckling metal all around the street more as lights and sun awnings were brought to the metallic roads. She had to dodge a few cogs that had been lucky enough to be aimed in her direction.

When she stood again she aimed next for the pouch.

She hooked it easily and tore the fabric to shreds as it fell into her palm. Nothing but cogs and small tools came from the pouch.

Marinette cursed under her breath and looked back to the flailing hand of the Akuma. Of course, it was always the hardest option.

“Chat!” She shouted at a moving pile of rubble, assuming he was under it. “I have to get that pocket watch away from him. Can you distract him?”

Chat came stumbling out of the mess, wobbly and reeling on his feet. He spun lazily and saluted with two fingers to Marinette before collapsing into a sputtering pile.

Marinette let out a loud groan. Of course he wouldn’t be in any shape to fight, he just had an entire structure fall on him.

She had no choice. She had to do this on her own.

Without really any planning Marinette ran to her partner’s side and bent to scoop him up, taking off towards the nearest intact building.

After she was satisfied he was okay she took off again, this time running up one of the walls of a salon nearby. She used the momentum as she pushed off the bricks to come and land on the Akuma’s back, hooking her yo-yo around their wrist for extra balance.

Instantly, the Akuma’s attention was turned to her, and they started grappling. Marinette tensed all her muscles as more shots than not were landed on her body, and she was thrown around and around in an attempt to dislodge her from the man’s back.

She held strong, pulling at the victim’s wrist and pressing at a pressure point on the inside of his arm to make him let go of the timepiece. When it finally was released and tumbled to the ground Marinette couldn’t help the sigh of relief that came from her.

Now all that was left to do was get down—

The Akuma was two steps ahead of her.

He grabbed her arm and pried her from his back, swinging her around like a hammer before being thrown into a nearby building.

The impact made her teeth rattle and her back ache, but Marinette still had enough sense about her to get back to her feet, and start towards the Akuma’s object.

She barely beat the nearly blind clock worker to the watch, running to the side as another gear was hurled at her head. When she finally smashed the already broken thing, the small mechanical butterfly came free and she was able to capture it in her own timepieces.

She didn’t watch as she threw open her pouch of ladybugs and let the small robotics go to work at fixing the city. She was more concerned with the blathering cat she’d left in a fashion boutique.

When she got to the building she found Chat standing in the doorway, leaning heavily on its frame and breathing slowly.

She grinned at how beat up he looked, and knew she probably didn’t look any better with her hand over her stomach and a slight limp in her right leg as the microfibers momentarily malfunctioned. Tikki really was having problems if even the suit was messing up.

“Good job, Kitty,” she mockingly praised as his eyes snapped open. “I think you win the award for longest nap taken during a battle.”

Chat’s grin was nothing short of poisonous. “All in a day’s work, My Lady. I have to make sure you get your exercise in.”

Marinette feigned swooning, throwing her arm up. “Oh, my hero. Always looking out for me.”

Chat’s grin disappeared, shifting into something Marinette couldn’t decipher as his gaze chose the doorframe he was leaning on over her.

There was a moment of silence before the two noticed the clapping and calls coming from down the street. Each groaned and looked over to the mass of reporters making their way towards the young adults.

Chat huffed, the sound sharp and hostile. “Shall we brave the paparazzi once more, My Lady?”

Marinette grimaced. “You’d swear they’d get tired of the same gimmick after a while. Smile, wave, smile again, then run off together.”

Chat shrugged, unhinging himself from the doorframe before dutifully planting himself by her side. “We’re superheroes, they’ll be satisfied with whatever they can get.”

A surprisingly bitter smile came to his lips as they started towards the crowd. "Or we could shake things up with a kiss or two. Prove how in love we are."

Marinette glanced at Chat before faking a gag. "I think I'd rather kiss the akuma, Kitty."

The ironic warmth in Chat's grin wasn't lost on the young woman beside him. "Your loss, My Lady. I hear I'm a fantastic kisser."

"Maybe someday if I wanna torture you a bit I'll see how legitimate that claim is." She quipped as the pair were both swarmed by reporters.

“Ladybug, why do you have a scarf today?” Someone shouted from the back.

“I thought it was going to be chilly, it’s gotten a little colder since last time we fought. Superheroes can get colds too, you know.” She joked and caused a rippling laugh to bubble through the crowd.

Questions were thrown her way one at a time, and she easily evaded them until she felt Chat pressing into her side.

She knew that sign. They’d done this game long enough to know he’d been tracking both their times and by his urgency they only had a few minutes left.

There wouldn’t be enough time for a fight, but there was enough time for both of them to maybe get away.

Marinette was just waving off the last questions as a familiar voice shouted from the back, “Are you really a couple?”

Marinette froze at the question and spun as the owner of the voice pushed and shoved her way to the front of the crowd.

Of course, Alya would be the only one to think to ask Ladybug about her love life. “Excuse me, Miss, what do you mean?”

Alya cracked a devilish smirk that sparked something similar in Marinette’s mind.

“We’ve seen this all before. I mean, you two stand together and everything, but we’ve never really seen you doing anything romantic. How do we even know you’re together?”

Chat stepped forward when Marinette didn’t answer, her mind too busy trying to come up with some cover. “Ladybug and I love one another; it’s simple to see when we’re fighting together. Isn’t that proof enough?”

Alya hummed greedily and the longer it took the more desperate Chat became to get away. But Marinette was frozen, stuck by the devilish look in her best friend's eyes.

“Prove it!”

Marinette felt the breathe leave Chat's chest as he spluttered, his face going red.

This poor fool is so in love with me, she thought bitterly as she turned back to Alya. He'd probably tear himself to shreds if I did anything to prove it.

That's when a white-hot rod of revenge shot through spine, sending such a lovely hot feeling seeping into her chest and mind.

Chat's so desperately in love with Ladybug that it'd destroy him if she ever did anything just to satisfy the media. He'd know it'd be a joke or just a propaganda stunt.

The thought of torturing him with something he couldn't have except for in front of the press made her feel strangely confident.

Alya quirked an eyebrow as Marinette spun on Chat and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards her as she popped up on the toes of her boots.

This is what you get for yesterday, she thought as she grinned up at the cat.

The shock that shone through his eyes was almost blinding. "Ladybug?"

She didn’t hesitate as she grabbed his neck and pulled him down to her. She didn’t back down as she smashed her lips to his in a hot and fired kiss. And she didn’t even flinch when she felt their teeth accidentally connect.

And when she heard the way the crowd behind her gasped and the sound of cameras snapping, it only made her grin into the kiss.

When she pulled away she could hear the uproar coming from the crowd, and she could feel the feverish pounding in her own chest. But it all seemed to fade away as she saw the look on Chat’s face.

He wasn’t looking at her in disgust, anger, or even in surprise. No, not a single one of those emotions appeared in his features. What she saw was pure misery and want.

He knew she’d done it to make the press go wild.

He knew she’d done it to spite him.

He knew she’d done it to drive him a little more crazy.

What he didn’t know was how his look made her feel a cold stone of guilt rest in the pit of her belly.

She didn’t know if it was the sound of the crowd distracting her, or if it was the adrenaline leaving her from the fight, or even the guilt that kept her there, but she didn’t move.

She stayed put as Chat wrapped his arms closely around her and pulled her into him. She didn’t waver as he lowered his face to hers and pressed his lips to hers in a soft and warm kiss.

She didn’t pull away as an “awe” ran through the crowd and more pictures were snapped.

She let him kiss her, and if you asked her why later on, she’d tell you it was to tease him with something he’d never have again.

But in the moment, if you asked her, she’d tell you the truth.

She knew this was the only time he’d get what he wanted, so she let him enjoy it.

And enjoy it he did, until she heard the frantic ticking and whirring coming from her yo-yo’s timer.

She had five minutes, and by the sound of the clacking rings on his goggles, he had about the same.

They parted then, and Marinette stared up into this green eyes once more, trying to read what that was, and trying to decide what this would do to them.

She saw an internal war moving in the young man before her, and she knew he was trying to figure out the same things.

“Was that good enough?” She asked the reporters without looking at them.

She heard a roar of approval, and before they could ask any questions she felt the road slapping under her feet and Chat’s hand in hers as she pulled the stunned hero behind her.

“Ladybug, slow down.” Chat called to her as his senses seemed to finally come back to him.

She didn’t slow down, though. She kept going, her feet pounding off the copper alleyways, and as she came to a dead end up, the brick walls as she let go of his hand and slung her yo-yo up to a chimney above.

The ticking of her miraculous was louder now, almost screaming in her ears.

She had two minutes, and she was cursing herself for dragging Chat along with her.

He’d follow her now. She knew it. He wanted answers, and she didn’t have them.

“Ladybug!” She cringed at the desperation in his voice, but she was desperate as well.

She needed to get away and needed to find her way home. Where the hell was she anyway?

She didn’t recognize this side of town, and as she leaped into an open window it was with dumb luck that she didn’t smack face-first into a mechanical horse statue.

She dodged under it and slid behind a box of supplies.

The microfibers surrounding her legs were malfunctioning, causing her nerves and muscles to sting and jump with pain. She had no choice, she’d have to release her transformation before it hurt her or made her reveal her location.

As she let the mechanisms fall away, and Tikki come flying out, she knew immediately that something was wrong. The Kwami’s left antenna wasn’t working and without the function for stability she was smashing into the wall over and over until Marinette’s hands closed around her.

“Tikki, stop making so much noise.” She barked in a whisper as she heard the familiar sound of Chat’s booted feet land on the windowsill.

“I-buzt-can’t. Something’s messing with my-buzz buzz-main rotor.” The little mechanical girl went slamming into the wall again and fell into Marinette’s open palms.

“Then shut down or turn off or for god’s sake just do something!” She hissed and jumped as the sound of Chat’s feet hitting the floor found her ears.

Marinette frantically looked for a way out of here, but it seemed there were only two, and both were in Chat’s direction. A hatch on the floor, and the window itself.

At least I still have my—

Marinette reached up to make sure her mask was still in place, only to find it gone.

She took a chance and looked back, seeing the material dangling from the tale of the horse. It must have snagged when she’d barely missed running into it, and now she cursed herself for not making sure to grab it or bring an extra one.

Chat was walking around the building in a slow circle, looking around the open space before the window and beneath all the tables and statues in the room.

He seemed to notice the fabric hanging from the horse after a few moments and walked over to investigate. Marinette watched as one of his claws extended to hook onto the mask, his fingers finding purchase in another material hanging there.

Marinette reached up to her throat, noticing that even her scarf had been torn to bits in her flurry of running.

Something hot stung her hands as she heard the familiar hiss of her Kwami shutting down. A small jet of steam had come spitting out of Tikki’s mouth as she turned off, and Marinette knew there wasn’t a chance Chat hadn’t heard it as she turned back to her little friend.

Something was seriously wrong, but she didn’t know what, and she didn’t have enough time to really take Tikki apart and look over her again. So, she just had to tuck the Kwami into her pouch of mechanical ladybugs and hope there would be time later.

There was silence in the room, and Marinette knew that was the opposite of a good thing. She knew Chat was still in there, and if things were silent that meant she wouldn’t be able to tell where he was.

But he broke his advantage by speaking up, letting her pinpoint his location.

“I know you’re here, Ladybug.” He said, his voice staying perfectly neutral. “What was that back there?”

Marinette knew there was no way around this, at least not by trying to run from him. So, she hoped that she’d be able to talk her way out of it.

“I don’t know what you mean, Kitty.” She purred, but her voice shook with her nerves.

“You know what I mean,” he was good at keeping his voice level. “Why did you kiss me?”

Marinette frantically started looking around her for a weapon. “I was just trying to give them a good show. You know me, always one for the people.”

She had just gotten out a pair of narrow pliers as Chat started in a slow approach. “You know that’s not the reason.”

“Maybe for once, the things I do don’t have a deeper meaning, Kitty.” She bit out as she looked around for something better to defend herself with.

Chat didn’t seem to listen. He was still slowly approaching, each foot step seeming louder and heavier than the last. “You and I both know that’s not true.”

His boots sounded like cannon fire now, and she could almost feel the way he was looking at the tips of her shoes, her bare legs, anything he could possibly spy.

She couldn’t find the words she was looking for as she heard his stride stop, and his knees hit the floor. She could feel it when he reached out, almost as if his claws were already scraping down her back.

“Please, Chat.” She pleaded with the air.

It made him pause. Rarely, outside of battle did she ever use his name. And now, he’d stopped with his claws wrapped around the edge of the crate to her back.

“I’m sorry for everything, but…” she had to find the strength to let these next few words out. “But if that kiss meant anything to you, you’ll leave me alone.”

Everything in the room seemed to stop as if the entire world had just gasped at her audacity. Chat froze in place, and she could feel her own pulse halt for a moment.

She waited, hoping it would have the effect she was desperate for. And the longer she waited, the more attuned she became to the sound of Chat’s claws wavering slightly on the box as his hand shook.

Five heartbeats was how long she had to wait, but it might as well have been an eternity. Then she heard him moving, his soft footsteps leaving her side as his claws let go of the box with a metallic tink.

It took him a few moments to move again, and Marinette knew there were still words to be had between them as he slinked out of the room nearly soundlessly.

She waited to the count of three before moving to look around the box. Sure enough, Chat was gone.

She sunk back against the wood at her back with a sigh of relief before worry and fear twisted stomach. Tikki was still hurt.

Her hand dove into her bag to pull out the little Kwami automation.

Sure enough, there was still a small leak coming from somewhere in her midsection, even with her being turned off.

Marinette would have to take her to Master Fu. There was no other choice.

The city would have to do without their Ladybug for a while.

Notes:

Let the angst begin.
and the Marichat

Chapter 4: Indifferent Love

Summary:

Marinette needs help with Tikki, and along the way she runs into an old friend.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Stepping into the familiar foyer today was anything but calming. In fact, Marinette only remembered one time she came here and was calm for the duration of her stay. She’d been learning about her Kwami and miraculous then, but that was a long time ago.

Today’s visit was much like the rest.

Something was wrong, she couldn’t fix it, and had to leave it to the professional.

Please be okay, she thought as she stepped through the sliding front door and bowed.

She was seated shortly by an older looking Chinese woman and was offered to have her bag taken. Of course, she denied the kind offer and gave the same excuse as always.

“There are some things I need in here,” She said in almost a whisper, despite the room being void of other people. “It’s that time of the month.”

The woman gave her a small nod and smile, offering her some chocolate or a water bottle instead. Marinette declined, her stomach too torn up to really enjoy the treats.

Her little ‘sighting’ outside hadn’t helped much either.

She had prayed with all her might that the zeppelin she was seeing didn’t belong to who she thought it did.

She had watched in horror as it had come to a stop above the massage and therapy parlor and dropped anchor.

And she’d broken into a sprint to get inside before the blond model that had been descending could see her.

Now she sat in the farthest corner from the door, nearly hidden by a plant in the hopes that he wouldn’t see her if he was actually coming inside.

With her luck, he’d come right in and the receptionist would seat him next to her.

In less than a minute, Marinette watched Adrien Agreste come walking into the room, be shown a seat by the receptionist, and it just so happened to be two away from herself.

If anyone could hear inside her head they would go deaf from her screaming.

She tried to focus her eyes on the carpet, on the ruffled banner on the wall, hell even the fake fern next to her. Anything to keep her mind off of the young model sitting four feet away from her.

But of course, the universe never was very kind to her.

“W-wait, is that? Marinette?”

She flinched at her own name and glanced over, meeting Adrien’s eyes for a moment before choosing a safer point of his left ear.

The smile that broke his lips made her heart skip and her cheeks light up. “H-hey, Adrien. Long t-time.”

The young man chuckled, shifting to face her instead of his slightly disgruntled secretary. “I’ll say. What has it been? Two years?”

“One year, actually,” Marinette said under her breath. “I saw you at Nino’s last recording session before he set off for the London Plat.”

Adrien snapped his fingers, looking up wistfully as a warm smirk crossed his face. “That’s right! He’d just finished setting up shop on that beat up craft before grabbing Alya for a month and setting off.”

Marinette giggled lightly at the memory. “I remember her coming back all happy then beating the heck out of him when she got back to the office and saw all the stories she’d missed.”

Adrien was chuckling now, his hands coming up to hug his stomach. “I remember the way he’d go and wait outside her office with a big speaker, playing some lame remix he made for her.”

“And how she’d throw water bottles at him with the caps undone,” Marinette added as their laughter started to mix and rise.

“The poor sap came over to my place drenched and pouting after a few hours of it.” Adrien was roaring with laughter now and Marinette couldn’t help but follow along.

Even when the secretary at the desk politely shushed them with a stern look the best they could do was go back to giggling.

Marinette found herself still staring at the rug as she tried to get her breathing under control. Oh, it was good to think of the past.

“So, what have you been up to since then?” Adrien asked, sliding over one seat so they could talk lower.

Marinette turned to try and tell him, but the poisonous look from his black and red-haired assistant made her freeze, clawing her fingers into her skirt as she thought of something to say.

“O-oh, you know. A little of this, some of that,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Nothing too big.”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow, not believing her answer for a second. He followed her gaze back to his secretary and tsked her, bringing a look of surprise from the woman.

“Nathalie, she can talk about it. I know she’s the one that grows our flowers, and is also the anonymous designer.” Adrien said.

Nathalie looked as surprised as Marinette felt. “You knew, sir?”

Adrien chuckled and waved the remark off. “When you work in the modeling business you learn to pick up on little whispers. A ‘cute with black hair’ and, ‘past classmate’ was all I really needed to figure it out.”

Marinette swore she’d swallowed her tongue. She never thought in her life she’d be able to hear Adrien Agreste say the word “cute” when referring to her.

He turned back to her, smiling and leaning in a little more. “So, tell me: how has business been? I heard you were commissioned to do Chloe’s birthday, and even design her dress. That’s pretty good.”

Marinette definitely didn’t have a voice anymore, or at least one that worked right. “Y-yeah. Sh-she wasn’t the easiest to work with, but she sort of mellowed with age.”

Adrien nodded, a thoughtful look passing his eyes. “She was a bit of a handful in high school, huh?”

Marinette barked in laughter, but there wasn’t anything mean or harsh about it. “Handful? She caused at least twelve Akuma's on her own.”

“Twenty-three in total, actually,” Adrien pointed out with a smile. “At least now she’s better.”

“Much,” Marinette affirmed with a grin. “Although she’s still wearing blue eyeshadow.”

Adrien scrunched up his nose at the thought. “I can’t say I miss that.”

Marinette couldn’t help the bubbling laugher that was slipping over her lips. It was a great feeling, just being able to talk to him. It was easier now, she guessed with age she’d also mellowed.

“You do all of my arrangements, right?” Adrien asked after a moment.

Marinette smiled. “Are sunflowers yellow?”

Adrien looked at her blankly, once again reminding her that she was the only one who basically knew anything about flowers. “Okay, forget that. Yeah, I do.”

He smiled lightly. “And I also hear you designed a few articles I modeled in. Which were they?”

Marinette could have sworn her face was suddenly made of lava her cheeks were so hot. “The white vest with the inner-light lining, and the micro-mesh pants with hidden pockets at the ankles and belt loop.”

Adrien smiled fondly as he thought back to the photoshoots and the magazines those pieces were featured in. “That vest was one of my favorite for fall, and the pants...well, I wear them around the house whenever I’m not doing anything.”

Marinette’s head snapped up, forgetting all about fussing over the carpet. “Really?”

Adrien nodded. “They’re really comfortable, and I can even exercise in them. They’re great!”

Marinette blinked, a-a compliment? “T-th-thank you!”

He grinned and gave her a small nod before seeming to think again. “Also, what’s that kind of flower that kinda smells like lavender and is really tall? It’s blue whenever we have it at shoots, but I’ve seen white versions of it too.”

Marinette thought for a second, bringing a hand up to gently touch her collarbone as she thought. “Smells like...Oh! You’re talking about Catmint.”

“Catmint? Really?” Adrien asked, a sort of devilishly joking smirk crossing his face.

Marinette nodded. “Yeah, it’s really easy to grow, and cats love the stuff. I have to keep it in a different section because the neighborhood cat likes to come and take naps in it.”

Adrien laughed softly, sinking back into this seat easily. “Well, it’s my favorite.”

Marinette nearly jumped with surprise. “I-It is?”

Adrien nodded smiling. “Yeah. Everyone thinks my favorite are those cream-colored ones, but I actually really like the Catmint. They smell really nice and last a while longer than the rest.”

Goodbye, Ranunculus. Hello, Catmint, Marinette internalized as she suddenly switched her favorite flower.

“I wouldn’t have thought it.”

The words were out of her mouth before Marinette could really stop them and she swore to herself for being so stupid.

Still, Adrien just laughed, sitting up to look at her. “And why is that?”

She was going to have a heart attack if he hit her with those eyes one more time. “It’s just such a simple flower, and it’s not at all the prettiest out of the ones I’ve seen or grown. I thought you would have liked something more exotic or...I don’t know, different.”

“Well, isn’t it different just to like the simple?” Adrien asked, a playfully daring glint in his eyes.

Marinette giggled at the look. “I suppose you’re right.”

Adrien smiled and sunk back into this seat. “I like to keep things as uncomplicated as I can. Keeps me grounded, you know?”

Marinette smiled, thinking of how good of a person Adrien was. “Well, you’re doing a really good job. You’re the most down to Earth person I know.”

“Ah, ah ah,” Adrien fakely scolded. “Down to Plat person you know.”

Marinette smiled and giggled. “Alright, down to Plat.”

Adrien grinned, reaching over to barely tap her shoulder. “See, that’s the spirit.”

Marinette smiled and relished in the feeling of his touch.

A silence fell between the two, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, unlike with Chat. No, it was...warmer. Marinette was thinking about all the good old times Alya, Nino, and them would have back in secondary school, and she knew he was thinking about the same thing.

It was nice, just to be around him again and be able to reflect on the past.

But the silence wouldn’t last forever, and Adrien seemed to realize that first. “So, what are you doing here?”

She gave him a shy smile as her brain suddenly went into panic mode in trying to come up with an excuse. “You first, Mr. Hot-Shot.”

Adrien laughed lightly at the name but still ran his hand through his hair playfully. “Well, I’ve come to grace this establishment with my presence and allow them to have me as a patron.”

There was a moment as the two stared at each other, trying to keep straight faces before bursting out into another round of hushed laughter.

It took him a moment to catch his breath, but Adrien was finally able to say, “But seriously. I pulled something in my shoulder while working out. Fu’s the only one I trust to fix it.”

Marinette nodded thoughtfully. Of course, Adrien would come because of an injury.

“I’m still waiting to hear why you’re here.” He pointed out after a minute.

Marinette still didn’t have an answer for him, but something in the back of her mind clicked. She did have an excuse, and probably one of the best ones yet.

She reached up and hooked her finger under the thick choker she’d been wearing to cover up the bruises Chat had left her.

She didn’t look at Adrien as just the edge of her purple neck was revealed, then quickly snapped back down to be hidden by the brown material.

She waited for the gasp, or even for the shower of questions, but all that came was a low hum, and Adrien leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“When did that happen?” He asked, a low growl seeming to creep into his voice.

Marinette was a little surprised at the sudden switch in him but didn’t dare to point it out. “Two days ago. Actually, technically one because it happened early in the morning.”

He hummed again, and the way his hands flattened on his kneecaps didn’t go unnoticed by the raven-haired girl next to him. “Was it a boyfriend or a stranger or…?”

Marinette shook her head. “Someone I’d met before. I wouldn’t call him a friend. I’d say we’re more like acquaintances.”

The way his knuckles turned white as he gripped his knees put some alarm in her mind. “And did he get what he deserves?”

Marinette did look at Adrien then, and out of pure shock. Never before had she thought of Adrien as being one for revenge or grudges. He was always so calm, and so gentle.

But she had a feeling this was about something more than just a guy hurting her.

She shook her head. “Not from me...but, I think he might have from someone else.”

Adrien seemed to digest the words slowly, and just as he opened his mouth to reply they heard a familiar voice drift happily from the other side of the sliding doors leading further in.

Master Fu came walking out, laughing and joking with another client. After seeing the guest off he looked over to where the two young adults were sitting, his face lighting up.

“Marinette, and Adrien! What a treat. Marinette, why don’t you come in? My how you’ve grown.”

Fu kept chattering happily as he disappeared into the back of the building but Marinette didn’t follow right away.

She stopped and turned after standing, looking over Adrien one last time. “It was really good to see you. We need to do this more often.”

It seemed harder for him to smile now. “Yeah, I’ll see what I can do with work.”

Marinette smiled. “Thanks. See you?”

Adrien nodded, leaning back into his seat. “Yeah. See ya’ later.”

And with that Marinette turned and started towards the back of the parlor, being only slightly surprised as the doors snapped shut after her.

“So, what’s the trouble now?” Fu asked as she entered the massage room.


“Three whole days. That’s just ridiculous. The last one was only a day! Why is this one so bad?” Marinette grumbled to herself as she once again stuck herself while trying to pin the leather of her corset back together.

She sighed, putting down the piece after a few moments to grab her thimbles. “I get that I didn’t take very good care of her in having to feed her nuts instead of washers that one time, but was that really the cause? Something that small shouldn’t have an effect on a magic mechanical companion.”

She’d been mad at herself ever since Fu had given her the news. Something in Tikki’s internal motor had been knocked loose, which had caused another part of her to malfunction. It would take three days to repair, and until then the city would have to go without their heroine, even though Hawkmoth seemed to have just come out of hiding again.

She sighed, reaching up and pulling at the choker as her bruises itched again.

Fu had given her some ointment to keep them from chaffing or from any more blood vessels bursting but had told her to basically leave it alone until it went away.

He’d estimated they’d disappear in two weeks or so. Which didn’t sit well with the Ladybug side of Marinette. It was hot during the summer, and Marinette didn’t want her scarf to become a part of her uniform.

Still, she’d made one just for that reason.

It was tedious work, always working to repair the outfit and keep her image up, but it was worth it whenever she helped a victim.

After a few more minutes of stitching, she stood, needing to stretch out.

She took a lap around her room, opening the door and walking into the rest of her apartment.

Her parents had allowed her to stay above them, with the exception that she’d have to have her own place built. It had taken some time, and money, but finally she’d had her own apartment, and with some added features.

She had her own kitchen, bathroom, sitting room (which was rarely used), and bedroom. In her bedroom, she had installed a large rotating window out by the front of the building.

It was a six-foot in diameter circular window that spun from two supports on the top and bottom. She’d had it put in to allow for easier access to her room whenever she was running late as Ladybug. It came in handy a lot whenever Chat was on her tale and she had forgotten to leave a window open in the greenhouse.

That was probably one of her favorite features, besides the self-automated refrigerator.

She punched in the commands for making a sandwich on the fridge before going to grab a glass and fill it with water. By the time she came back, a perfectly sculpted turkey sub was on a plate in the dispensing shelf on the side of the machine.

She smiled and once again thanked her old classmate Max for designing the work of art in exchange for a few free venues worth of flowers.

It was an easy trade and one that was worth it when it came to midnight snacks like this.

She picked up the sub and did a small check over the room before getting a refill of water, her feet moving from hardwood to the softly cushioned carpet of her hallway as she left.

With the smell of the bakery downstairs and the feel of her entire apartment being cushioned and soft, Marinette found it a wonder why she ever had trouble sleeping.

Well, aside from the obvious alter-ego and her late-night fashion excursions, she had no idea.

And it looked like tonight would be much of the same as the last few, little sleep, and lots of coffee the next day.

She trudged back to her room, lifting her plate to her mouth so she could bite into her sandwich. It was pretty good, even though she knew the ingredients were all pretty old and she needed to go shopping again soon.

Another thing to do during her couple days away from responsibility.

Marinette didn’t really understand why she was so agitated about not being Ladybug either. She knew Chat could take care of the Plat for a few days (hell, he’d had to do it earlier that day after she turned over Tikki), but she was worried about where the Akuma's would go if she didn’t take away their injectors.

There wasn’t anything she could really do about it, but the thought still bugged her. The Plat without a hero for a few days.

“Back to designing for Chloe, I suppose.” She grumbled as she attempted another bite of her sandwich, the bread simply slipping to the side.

Marinette heard something behind her as she stepped into her room, attempting to move the top of the sub back over with her tongue, but didn’t bother to look. With her clumsiness, she likely knocked something over and would find out what later. Right now, she was too focused on her food to even notice that the lights in her room had somehow turned off.

She didn’t, that is until she heard the low chuckle behind her. “Do you need some help with that, Princess?”

Marinette’s muscles all locked as her heart skipped a few beats. Her teeth were frozen on the bread between them, her eyes shooting wide as the familiar presence came to stand behind her, his body heat warming her back slightly.

“I’m very good at giving others what they want,” Chat purred. “Although, I wouldn’t mind having a snack of my own.”

Marinette’s gasp was so quick she didn’t have time to pull the bread from her teeth before it shot down her throat. She dropped the plate as she started coughing and gasping until the wad of flour finally came back out and she was able to swallow it properly.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” She demanded as she spun to face the grinning leather clad man behind her.

His grin only widened, turning mischievous. “It’s not my fault you didn’t swallow.”

Marinette was disgusted, but judging by the small chuckle that came from the cat boy, her blush was giving her away. “Is this your idea of making things better with someone? Break into their house, choke them with a sandwich, then just make sexual jokes while they die?”

Chat’s grin turned into a smirk, a small shrug moving his shoulders. “Who said I’m here to try and make things better?”

Marinette frowned, backing away as Chat started approaching. “If you’re not here to apologize or make nice, then what are you doing here?”

Chat’s low hum wasn’t all that reassuring and she found it hard to concentrate as she focused on the way his claws clicked at his side. She kept backing up, trying not to focus on the way his teeth flashed or the light smell of his musty leather and a mix of some sort of gas.

What was hard to notice was the spool of thread that had found its way under her foot. As she took a step back, Marinette realized just too late that the ground had rolled out from under her. And suddenly she was falling backward, slipping over the wooden cylinder to crash her back into the wall only a foot away.

When she looked up again she found Chat towering over her, his eyes shining and his smile a little more malicious in its spark. Her blood ran cold again and she couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped her parted lips.

He bent at his waist, bringing his face inches from hers as his hands came to land in one another behind his back.

“What’s the matter, Princess? Can’t help yourself from falling when I’m around?” He asked, his voice a low rumble.

Marinette swallowed, her throat suddenly very dry. “Go to hell.”

“Been there,” Chat whispered, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Lovely place during the winter.”

Marinette ground her teeth as her fingers curled into fists against the plaster at her back. “What exactly do you want, Chat?”

Chat didn’t respond. His grin had slowly disappeared, slowly dissolving into something heated as he stared at her, scanning each of her features in that same slow methodical way. Marinette felt strangely naked under his gaze as it roamed down her throat to her heaving chest.

He sighed after a moment, straightening and offering her a hand. “I didn’t come here for this,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I came to ask you something.”

Marinette looked between his eyes and his hand. “What?”

He shook his head. “I’m not asking until you’re standing up and we can have a proper conversation. As much as I hate to admit it: this feels too familiar.”

Marinette knew what he meant. She’d been in this position too much when it came to him; smaller, scared, pushed into a corner with only her voice as a weapon.

So, she stood but she didn’t take his hand, which, in hindsight, was a bad idea. She’d twisted her ankle when she’d stepped on the spool, and hadn’t noticed the throbbing before, too preoccupied with the cat-themed young man before her.

As she straightened and attempted to walk out away from the wall she found her right leg giving out, her ankle twisting again and pain shooting up her calf. She stumbled back with a hiss escaping her lips as her leg forced her against the wall again for balance.

Chat’s eyebrows knit together as he watched Marinette struggle to get herself straight on one foot. “Are you alright?"

Marinette shot him a pained glare. “Does it look like I’m alright? Why is it that I always get hurt with you around?”

He winced at that, taking the comment to heart no doubt. “I...Is there anyway I can help?”

Marinette chewed her lip as she gently set her right foot back down on the floor, the small act causing some more prickling to run through her muscles. “Can you just bring me the chair from my desk?”

Chat nodded, moving too quickly for her to be comfortable. He reappeared a second later, pushing her rolling chair before him with a sullen look. “Sit down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Marinette barked, her hand brushing his away from the leather and wired seat’s back.

Chat stepped back, huffing and grumbling something under his breath as Marinette sat and used her good leg to roll over to her desk.

“You know, I was just trying to help” Chat bit out, his voice more annoyed than angered.

Marinette scoffed. “Fantastic job so far.”

“Hey!”

It was such a sharp outburst that it made Marinette’s head snap up in surprise. Chat’s face was twisted by rage, but not the same anger she saw when she was in battle. No, this was different. It was the same anger she’d seen when he’d strangled her.

She wanted to move, wanted to get away and breathe. But his gaze had frozen her, and now she couldn’t seem to get her legs working. All she could do was stare back, watching carefully for where he might move to or what he might do.

She blinked at him, and he only seemed to fume more. “I just came here to ask you a question, not get bombarded by insults.”

Marinette didn’t even register her expression changing until her face was twisted into a deep scowl. Her mind was raging and she knew just why.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hurt your poor little feelings?” She asked, the sarcasm in her voice impossible to miss. “Last I remember you were supposed to be apologizing to me, not the other way around.”

Chat’s jaw snapped shut, his teeth grinding together as he brought his fingers up to massage his temples. “Why did I ever think you would understand?”

“Oh, I understand perfectly well,” Marinette bit out, her hand going to unconsciously rub her ankle. ”You want to try and make nice with me. But you just can’t seem to. And why is that? Hmm? Oh, I know, maybe because you don’t know how to be a decent goddamned person--”

She was cut off as Chat suddenly descended on her, his clawed hands piercing the leather at her shoulders as his fingers tore into the chair’s back. He thrust a leg between hers, resting his knee on the seat to make sure she wouldn’t get up as he lowered his face down to hers.

Their noses were only inches away, and Marinette could smell just the slightest hint of mint on his breath as he tried to breathe deeply to calm his nerves.

She didn’t move, she didn’t breathe, she didn’t even blink. She could hear the hissing of the wires and air hoses from within the chair’s adjustment mechanic as his fingers flexed and brushed her shoulder. She realized just how close he’d come to digging those metallic nails into her. One inch to the side on either hand and she would have needed a new arm and shoulder.

“You don’t get it,” Chat let out, anguish making his voice soft and breathy. “I’m just trying to--”

He was cut off by a voice crack and a cough. He refused to look at her, choosing a safer location of the scarf around her throat.

Marinette hated to admit it, but she felt sorry for the cat. He seemed so torn up about all this, and she wondered what had turned him into this.

“I just want to find my Ladybug.” He whispers finally, and she could see the slight gleam of moisture on his eyelashes behind the sheen of his goggles.

He let go then, steam tickling her shoulders as the claws contracted. She watched as he stood, his leg sliding from between hers to land with a heavy thud on the ground.

He walked weightily back to Marinette’s rotating window, bending over to rest his hands on the sill and look out over the city.

Suddenly, Marinette realized something. Chat wasn’t a teen anymore.

Despite the never ending energy he always had during battles, and despite the fact that he always seemed to be smiling or joking, he wasn’t really the same as he used to be. She could see the way his shoulders slouched as he walked, and the way he seemed to stand solidly on his feet, instead of having the same weightless bounciness in his step.

“I just want to know where she is,” he said after a while. “I just want to know if she’s okay. Her not being there today--”

Another voice crack, and another gruff cough. “She hasn’t missed a battle in over five years. Do you know what that’s like? Suddenly having the one person you depend on to fix things being gone?”

Marinette stared at Chat, at the tension in his back and at the way his mechanical ears had laid flat against his hair. He looked too old for his time, and the worst part was that he wasn’t speaking of matters unknown to Marinette.

She’d had the same feeling the day high school ended, and she was recruited to start doing arrangements for the Agreste label.

She’d loved the job, until she’d seen Adrien in the corner of the makeup room, looking small and cold. His face was missing the sunshine and kindness it usually oozed, instead replaced by a colder sort of emptiness.

She’d wanted to run to him and ask what was wrong, tell him that everything was going to be okay and get him out of there. But she wasn’t allowed behind the stage or near the models out of fear of her identity being found out.

So, she’d had to sit by idly and watch as he was stuffed into an outfit and fussed over with makeup and accessories, but wasn’t once asked if he felt okay, or was doing alright.

She’d remembered the way he always smiled and was always there to make her day better if she was down, and now she couldn’t do the same for him. He was stuck in that dark and cold world of models and camera lenses.

“Y--yeah, I actually do.” She said, rubbing the back of her neck as her cheeks heated up just a little.

Chat turned then, staring at her. He was silhouetted by the moonlight, a soft silvery glow encompassing his frame as his face was hidden from her.

She heard him whisper something under his breath, and she couldn’t quite help but notice the way his shoulders seemed to slouch just a little more.

“What was that?” She asked, her voice sounding suddenly strange to her own ears.

Chat didn’t speak, he simply seemed to look at her again, studying her in the dark.

When he did finally move, it was to turn back around and place his forearm against the window’s curved sill and lean his forehead against it. “I just want my Bugaboo. I didn't mean to scare you.”

Chat turned, just enough for her to see his profile, and she could see the sadness in his eyes behind the tinted glass of his goggles. “You don’t know where Ladybug is?”

The woe bleeding into his tone made her chest clench painfully. "No. No, I don't. I'm sorry, Chat.”

Chat nodded. “It’s alright. I wish we could help each other out.”

Marinette let out a small sound. “I do to.”

There was a silence then that sat in on them weightily. Chat seemed to sink into it, while Marinette felt like she was drowning.

Of course she knew where Ladybug was. She's sitting right in front of him. But she couldn't let him know that.

Still, she felt that same annoying pang of wanting to help him. Wanting to protect her partner no matter how much he drove her crazy.

"I'll let you know..."

Chat looked up. "What?"

Marinette swallowed down her nerves, meeting his eyes as she gave him a small smile. "If I hear anything, I'll let you know. I am best friend's with the lead writer of the Ladyblog after all."

There was a flash of something behind Chat's eyes before he settled his featured into an amused smile. "Of course, only the most reliable of scourses can help this cat."

With the small quip he moved back to the ladder leading up to her greenhouse, pausing at the bottom. "You have a good night, Princess."

Marinette allowed a small smile to cross her lips. "You too, Chaton. Till next time."

He didn't reply, simply inclining his head before slinking up the ladder and out of her home.

Marinette sat back after she was sure that he'd left, letting out a long breath. "What have I gotten myself into?"

Notes:

┏( ᐛ )┛ └( ᐛ )┐┏( ᐛ )┛ └( ᐛ )┐
THE ANGST QUEEN IS BACK BITCHES GET READY FOR SOME FEELS

Chapter 5: Rotten Times

Summary:

Marinette is hurt when an Akuma attacks and Ladybug is nowhere to be found. Chat comes to her rescue and she's forced to seek help from her enemy.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Chat, stop, please,” Marinette panted as another hard thump shook her frame.

She could feel his hot breath fan out over her neck and shoulder. “Just a little longer, Princess. We’re so close.”

Chat moved again, his body pressing into hers as one of his hands tangled in her hair. She whined as a pain duly throbbed in her lower stomach again and she tried to wrap her legs more tightly around his hips.

“It hurts,” She gasped as her nails dug into his suit.

“I know it does. Just a little farther. Please, hold out, Princess,” Chat huffed as he nearly slipped and dropped her.

She could hear the soft thudding of his boots on the wet metallic roads echoing behind her, but she knew the alley they were in was anything but empty. The skeletal wires scraping along the brick buildings and copper streets kept her ears alive, and the pain from the gash on her belly was keeping her mind alert.

The smell of burnt leather from Chat’s suit filled her nose as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end again, the air filling with electricity as another trail of sparks shot up the small space after them.

Marinette’s eyes were filled with light as she couldn’t draw her vision from the piercing sparks. Chat reacted faster, dodging into a doorway as the power erupted a wall just outside where the two now laid.

“Are you okay?” Chat was quick to ask, sitting up and quickly grabbing Marinette up off the floor.

She panted as her stomach throbbed again, her hand shooting to apply more pressure. “I’m doing just fine. It’s not like I just got bitch-slapped by a wire clad Akuma or anything,” She barked and cringed as he propped her up against what she guessed was a freezer door.

She knew this place, they had dodged into a friend of her father’s restaurant. They were in the back by the fridges and dry storage. She could probably find her way home from here if not for the rampaging monster outside.

“The sarcasm isn’t really appreciated right now,” Chat grumbled as he looked at her stomach. “You should be fine. But I’ll be back. Stay put.”

She nodded, pressing down into her stomach with as much force as she could muster. A sour taste came to her throat as she watched Chat sprint from the building, hearing his voice echoing through the alley outside.

Marinette could feel her arms shaking as she tried to keep some pressure on the wound, but she felt so weak. She was sweating, and yet her skin felt cold and she was shivering. She was breathing too fast and she could hear her heart pounding in her ears.

Another explosion shook the building and she gasped as her hands slipped off her stomach for a moment, her skin slick with blood. She heard Chat scream something at the Akuma again and she cursed herself for having given up Tikki.

In a sick turn of events she’d actually been on her way to get back her Kwami when the dreaded attack had started. She hadn’t had any warning either, concern for her friend dulling her normally keen senses. One moment, she was strolling along the street looking over some new bread she had brought as payment, and the next she was against a wall with a razor-wire sliding over her stomach as it attempted to twine around her torso.

She didn’t know how Chat had gotten there, or how he had pulled the wire from her without hurting her further, but soon she was in his arms, and they were off.

Now, she sat on the floor of a kitchen, choking back vomit and smelling blood and electricity as another sparking arch hit the doorway, brick erupting into the dark space.

Marinette held fast to her gash and crawled behind a counter, pressing her back to the cool metal of the storage fridge below it. She fought off the nausea and focused on the pain and the area.

Pain is a construct of the mind, she told herself as she took a few deep breaths. It’s a chemical reaction within the mind to warm you of harm. It’s just a construct. You can ignore it.

She’d used this technique before. She was sometimes able as Ladybug to convince herself that the pain wasn’t real, and that it didn’t really affect her. It helped her before in battles whenever she was injured. It allowed her to ignore the scorching heat of a lantern Akuma, or a burning cut from a glass wielding monster. She was able to go longer and harder than normal.

But this was different, and she was having trouble blocking out the pain. She still could ignore most of it, to the point of not having to vomit anymore, but she still felt the throbbing through her whole body.

She was a civilian now. No iron will when she wasn’t in her Ladybug uniform. No way to fully do anything to the extent that Ladybug could.

Her body was nearly vibrating, cold shivers running up her back as sweat beads tried to chase them back down. Her hands were shaking, sending shocks of pain through her body as she tried to squeeze the radiating pain. She took a few deep breaths and tried to will her arms still.

It worked until she heard footsteps on the tiles behind her. “Princess?”

She gasped and her hand slipped again, letting a small rasp of pain to escape her lips. She rocked back, her head falling to thump against the metal behind her as leather boots soundlessly rounded the corner on her.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she realized she was crying, pressing her shaking hands closer as Chat bent to look her over.

He said something to her but it was lost to the roaring of her ears.

She felt his fingers gently wrap around her wrists, pulling them away gingerly as she struggled to put them back. She was far too weak and Chat easily overpowered her.

He looked over the gash before humming and moving back. Marinette’s hands shot back to her stomach, her eyes opening to lock onto the leather clad young man.

“C-can I be sarcastic now, Kitty?” Marinette rasped as her head fell back again.

She heard a tsk come from Chat as he stood, his hands coming to land on her shoulders. “I’m going to pick you up. We’re going somewhere safe.”

Marinette shook her head. “Take me to the hospital.”

Chat returned the gesture. “If I do the media will be all over it. I can’t let them know Ladybug is missing.”

“They’re going to know anyway. The Akumas keep getting away.” She winced as she’s lifted up to rest against Chat’s chest, one of her arms instinctively going around his shoulders.

He shook his head as he took off running, his feet gliding easily without the stress of a fight weighing him down. “They aren’t getting away.”

Marinette glanced at him skeptically. “Then how are you getting rid of them?”

Chat’s face was free of emotion as he charged ahead, taking corners easily and leaping past moving trolleys and people. He gave none of them a single glance as he sped up his pace.

“Let’s just say they aren’t fireproof.” Chat muttered as he kicked off an alley wall and leaped up onto a fire escape; taking three steps at a time until he reached the roof.

Marinette tried to take her mind away from the pain, looking around the skyline of the city. She hadn’t been to this sector before. The buildings all looked older, none of them having the newer copper laced bricks and steel veined concrete walls. Instead they had old cement and mortar with seemingly no metal built into the structures.

“Where--”

“You know,” Chat cut in suddenly. “You talk too much sometimes, Princess.”

Marinette frowned as he took another alley in a bound and slid on some loose tiles. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Chat’s face was wooden as he stopped to scan the surrounding plaster tiles. “Sometimes you just need to go with the flow. Let what happens, happen, and trust the people you are dealing with. Some of us know what we’re doing.”

“Excuse me for thinking you should be taking me to the medical professionals,” she barked as he landed atop a round building.

He frowned and used his foot to flip up one of the panels in the glass laden roof. “I know what I’m doing. Just trust me for a little while.”

Marinette happened to catch a glimpse of where they were as Chat dropped down into the abandoned building. The structure they had entered resided about twenty meters away from the edge of the Plat; the only thing separating the two being a small brick road and a flimsy brass chain fence.

Stepping into the building shared the same majesty of falling into another dimension. It was long and narrow, almost like a hanger in the design of the arched ceiling. The only difference being the foundational bricks ending a meter off the ground, beginning the glass and bringing the total height of the building to maybe five meters tall.

Each window was cradled by metal rebar that she noticed ran the entire height of the ceiling. From one end to the other, each having their own pivoting points to allow for open airflow throughout the facility. Chat had merely dropped through one of the larger curves at the base of the dome.

The green-tinted glass was foggy, either from dust or old age, causing the light to filter in more softly, reminding Marinette of an old romantic movie her parents and she had watched together.

She groaned as they landed on the white and baby blue tiled floor, Chat starting towards one portion of the building.

She didn’t know where he was going until she turned and saw a small sitting area set aside from the rest of the open space. There was a floral white and blue couch with an armchair and coffee table next to it, all placed on a large black and sky blue rug. It seemed odd that the area was away from the walls and set facing a larger desk that took up an entire corner of the foundation.

Chat gently lowered her onto the couch, grabbing the blanket from its back and draping it over her. Unlike the rest of the building the furniture and blanket didn’t carry a speck of dust or the musky smell. Actually, despite the amount of grubby must on the windows there didn’t seem to be a speck of it in the air.

In fact, it smelt sweet in the room. Almost like…

She glanced over the back of the couch as Chat moved to the desk across from her. She felt rage boil up inside her and she suddenly forgot all about the pain in her stomach as she found herself surrounded by her own flowers.

Cat mint, Hydrangeas, Tulips, Baby’s Breath, Sunflowers, and, oh god, a number of Roses made her stomach twist.

“Chat?” She inquired so calmly she surprised even herself. “Where are we?”

He didn’t look at her as he went about digging through an old canvas bag he had retrieved from under the work space. “Where we are is not important.”

She scowled. “It’s important to me.”

“Why is that?” He purred comically.

“Chat, I need to know where we are.”

“Why do you need to know?” He droned, his synechism dripping into every syllable as he spoke.

Marinette ground her teeth, digging her nails into her stomach and forgetting about her gash. “Because whoever owns this building has stolen my livelihood and I don’t appreciate people who try and ruin my work.”

Chat scoffed as he turned back around, medical supplies in hand. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he assured as he came to kneel next to her. “This is just where the Agreste company dumps their leftover flowers after every shoot. Hence all the roses from the Lover’s Divine shoot last week. No one knows about this place so nothing is going to be taken from it.”

He retrieved the blanket from her side then as her anger began to fade. “So, is this where you stole the flowers for the crown from?”

Chat didn’t look at her as he studied the wound and the way the razor had cut through her corset. “It’s not stealing if no one wants it. There isn’t anyone that comes out here except me, Adrien, and the delivery men.”

“Adrien comes out here?” Marinette questioned in bewilderment as Chat gently ran a claw along the leather of her outfit, tickling her side.

“On occasion. He’s the one who put this furniture here for me.”

The explanation was simple enough, but Marinette felt as if there was something missing from the story.

“You know Adrien Agreste?”

Chat seemed to stop then, his claw millimeters away from her still oozing wound.

“Are you two friends or something?” She tried instead.

He flinched, and she felt it when the copper tip of his claw nicked her torn skin and caused her to cry out as the burning of her gash flooded back to her.

Chat grimaced and pulled his hand away, retracting his claws. “Princess, as much as I love hearing your beautiful voice, I can either help fix you up or talk. But, I can’t do both at the same time. I may be amazing at double tasking in battle but when it comes to concentrating like this I am not so good at the whole doing-more-than-one-thing-at-a-time thing. Ok?”

Marinette nodded as she let her head fall back onto the arm of the sofa, one of her legs kicking out at the other as he gently ran a claw along her corset again.

As she flinched once more and barked out a gasp of pain she heard Chat curse under his breath. “Alright.”

“Alright what?” Marinette hissed as she swallowed down a few awful names she wished to call him.

“This is what I was trying to avoid,” Chat said with a small click of his tongue, his goggles doing the same in unison. “You and I are both in trouble here.”

“In trouble?” Marinette yelped as panic burst in her chest. “What, am I going to die or something?”

“Or something,” Chat admitted as he snatched up the gauze he had deposited on the table behind him along with the rest of his haphazard supplies. “My disguise is about to time-out so I’m going to need you to trust me here. I’m going to blindfold you--”

Marinette scoffed. “What?! No. No no no, no. You think I’m going to let you blindfold me after you nearly killed me and broke into my home and threatened me another time? Fat chance, Cat.”

Chat huffed and frowned as he tried to think of something else, anything else to say to convince her. “Marinette, I wish we could do this any other way, trust me, I do. But, this is the only way I’m going to be able to patch you up and keep my identity a secret like Lady wants me to. You need to help me out a little here and just have a little faith that I know what I’m doing.”

Marinette stopped, her breathing a little shallow as she stared up at the grime-covered windows. His voice was so innocent, so void of the usual malice and threatening authority that is always carried. It was almost funny how much he sounded like...

She closed her eyes and raised her head for a second, bowing it towards him as she heard him gasp softly in surprise. “You dare touch me in any way that I don’t agree with and I’m going to take off the blindfold and go straight to my friend Alya with the new headline for tomorrow’s paper.”

Chat didn’t respond immediately, instead, she felt his fingers gently running the gauze around her eyes. His hands were soft in their movements and he wrapped a wide band around her face.

As he was tucking the end in and Marinette opened her eyes to a small amount of light shining through the white cotton she heard him murmur, “Why would I touch you and ruin everything I’m trying to get back?”

She pretended not to hear him as she laid her head back down and let her hands fall free from herself and onto the couch.

What did he mean by that? Everything I’m trying to get back. What was he trying to get back? They had never met before, not in person at least, and she wasn’t his friend either.

There was a slight flash and she could hear the retracting wires and retreating gears as his Kwami came back to their original state. The sound of his trench coat being shed and the gloves being slipped off seemed to echo through the hanger as a small mechanical voice whispered something to the man next to Marinette.

“Alright, go ahead and ‘fix me up’.” She muttered as she turned her head away.

She heard a shift and a small chuckle that she guessed came from his Kwami. “Remember how I said you needed to trust me?”

Marinette quirked an eyebrow behind her blindfold. “Yeah, why?”

“I need to take your top off.”

It took a minute for her to digest the syllables into words her mind understood, and to feel him move again. “If you dare touch me right now I will throw you off the Plat and not look back.”

Chat sighed and slumped back, the sound of his boots hitting the floor as he shed them off not missing Marinette’s ears. “You can relax, Princess. I have some spare clothes here for you. Let me grab you a shirt to put on over that.”

Marinette could feel just how stiff her own muscles had become as Chat stood and moved to the other side of the room. It was harder to track his motions now, her mind still reeling over the whole situation she had somehow found herself in.

The irony of her needing to be saved and fixed up by Chat after all they've been through was not lost on her.

He returned a moment later with something warm and soft lying down across her.

Marinette shifted, her fingers knotting in the fabric as he sighed. "Put that on but leave the bottom unbuttoned if you can. I need to get that corset off."

She nodded and sat up, slinging the shirt on over her own. She noted that it's about three sizes too big with a low hanging neck-line. She didn't complain, at least she had something to cover her.

Her fingers numbly fumbled with the fastenings of her corset but she found it too painful to try and undo the one's right above her wound.

It had to be cut off, and she hated the thought of needing Chat's help in doing so.

Still, what had to be done had to be done.

"Chat?"

"Hmm?" He sounded from somewhere else in the space.

"I can't get my corset off...I...I think...can you help me cut it off?" She eventually got out.

He dropped something, she's sure of it. It's the only explanation for the crashing sound and him swearing.

It took a few minutes but she eventually heard him take a deep breath. "Alright, let me find some scissors or a knife..."

He sounded about as comfortable with the situation as Marinette felt. She tried to focus on being grateful for the pain in her wound lessening as time went on, rather than the thought of having Chat help her out of her clothes.

It took him a minute or two, but eventually, his weight sunk into the cushion next to her.

Marinette could practically feel his nerves on edge as he gently reached out to touch her arm. "Just, let me know if you want to do this on your own."

She nodded, taken aback by the sweet and suddenly caring nature of his voice. Where did her snarky cat go?

She lifted up her arm and hoisted the dress shirt up with it to reveal the side of her corset.

His fingers were warm and feather-soft as two of them snaked under the hem. He whispered a small apology as the cold metal of scissors joined his fingers on her side, tearing through her garment. She tried not to flinch at the sound or the contact, but she could only do so much for her nerves.

Chat froze, his fingers stilling on her side as she felt his gaze find her face.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, too much caring in his voice for it to make sense.

She shook her head. "No. No you're good. Just reflexes, that's all."

"Right," he huffed as his fingers slipped out from under her corset to trace up the side. "Is the blouse sewn in? I don't see the end."

Marinette's cheeks erupted with a fiery warmth as she realizes that yes, the blouse underneath is indeed sewn in.

Why was she blushing?

It was a common fashion choice, but one she now was going to remove from her wardrobe when she got home.

"Yeah, I'll just..." She trailed off as her free arm came up to cross over her chest, pulling Chat's shirt close to herself.

She could hear him swallow thickly. He chose not to say anything, instead resuming the destruction of the leather and cotton garment.

Marinette didn't flinch anymore, and as soon as it was freed from her she slipped it off. Her sides thanked her, as did her stomach.

As per Chat's gentle suggestion, she tied his dress shirt up around her lower ribs and laid back down.

He moved to kneel on the ground next to her, quickly having his fingers ghost over her stomach.

She waited for his hands to roam her body. But they never came. He moved away from her and she could hear him rifling through the items on his desk again. The sound of metal on wood was deafening to her in the all but silent room.

She focused her senses, trying to pick up on anything in the room that could maybe make her calm down.

The scent of the flowers filled her nose as she found the aroma of their slowly decaying petals floating along the air. It nearly made her gag at the thought of her flowers being stored here and kept for future shoots to lower their prices.

She heard the small chirping of what she could only guess were mechanically engineered insects. No real bugs existed on the Plat, the altitude and lack of food making sure none of them survived. She had tried her hand at creating her own selection of robotic pollinators, but the operating systems needed were too small for her to accurately calibrate and work on.

She could hear outside the sound of humming; low and throbbing like a heartbeat. There were interruptions every once in awhile in the frequency, going higher at only one point, then cutting, then going lower again. She guessed it was the turbines holding up the Plat; being so close to the edge it would be easy to hear them.

A slight breeze came through somewhere in the windows and she found herself shivering.

She shifted as she became impatient and found her hand coming to the blanket from earlier.

She threw it over her legs and settled back down as she heard a small laugh come from Chat. "Getting comfortable are we?"

He wasn't supposed to be able to make her blush this easily, yet there go her cheeks again with their heated treason.

"I'm cold, Chaton," she justified as he came to settle on the floor next to her. "I'm surprised you haven't offered to keep me warm."

A low noise came from him as he set down some supplies and leaned over her. "I'll keep that in mind for next time, Mari."

The use of her real name made her stiffen. Chat seemed to realize the change as well, his fingers stilling on her side.

"Sorry, I mean, Princess." He corrected.

They fell into silence as he went about dabbing a wet cloth to her stomach. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but Marinette would have rather be filling the void with some answers.

"You said you have spare clothes here?" She pondered aloud.

Chat's hands faltered for a brief second. "They aren't really mine. They belong to Adrien."

Again he brought up Adrien. Did they know each other?

"You never answered me," Marinette pointed out, turning her face towards where she guessed his was. "Are you two friends?"

There's a long breath in and Marinette wondered if she's hit a nerve before Chat sighed. "Adrien found this place first a while ago. I found it shortly after him, and he agreed to let me stay as often as I want."

He paused, Marinette swearing she could almost hear him mulling something over. "I-I like coming here. The flowers help to clear my head of everything. Helps me to calm down. Same as Adrien."

Marinette made a mental note of finding this place later on and invading with as many baked goods as possible. She wanted to thank Chat and also take care of Adrien since he never seemed to get enough to eat.

“Have you ever wondered why I call you Princess?”

The sudden change in subject jolted Marinette from her thoughts.

“No, I haven’t really.” She relented.

“I call you Princess because I don’t know how you got those first seeds of yours or how you figured out your own form of botany, but you’ve inherited a kingdom that you don’t even know about.”

She frowned, her eyebrows knitting together as she tried to understand what he was saying. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, look around you,” Chat said with a wide gesture, then a wince. “Or I suppose just smell it for now. But, either way, these plants, these living things that are so gorgeous, are of your creation and yours alone. Not a single other person on the Plat has been able to recreate anything that you have done. Not in metalwork, automatons, or even in trying to grown their own plants because they don’t have your knowledge and skill.

“You create organic life in a world filled with metal and synthetics. You create beauty from something none of us understand. And you don’t even seem to realize what you have. The Agreste family has tried for so long to preserve these flowers here and keep them from rotting and being thrown back down to the surface, but they just can’t. That’s why they have to keep coming to you.

“You could raise your prices by three, hell, even four times as much as they are now and no one would even bat an eye because they need you and your art. And I say art because your designs are included. You don’t know how closely your articles are watched by the Agreste label and all the independent boutiques you sell to. They are waiting to see if someday you don’t put your name in your design so they can try and take it as their own and market it as triple what you offer.

“You don’t even realize it, Marinette. But what you have...any of the designers and aristocrats on this floating chunk of metal would gladly kill over and yet you treat it so humbly. You don’t automate all of your deliveries and sets. You don’t mass produce or delay your designs for ‘creative processing ability’. You’re just there, doing it yourself with your bare hands, in the dirt with your hair braided back and your skirt soaked in mud.

“And, it’s all just you...this empire, it’s just you in every way.”

There was silence, save for the sound of chirping insects and piped in bird songs she only seemed to notice now.

The aroma of the flowers came back to her, but they were different, and she picked up on the scent that she hadn’t noticed before. They smelt too sweet and too strong for how large the room was. She could smell the earth too easily in their planters and the fluids from their stems, as if they had already been cut.

She smelt the decay that was coming from them, the sickly sweet scent of the flora’s last goodbye to the world it barely came to know.

Chat was right. These flowers weren’t growing and weren’t being stored here like she had thought. This was their grave sight, and the thought of them being thrown from the Plat like garbage after all the work she put into nurturing them...it made bile bubble up her throat.

She heard a hitch in Chat’s breath and felt it when one of his hands suddenly came away from her stomach. Was he...was he crying?

“You put such passion into your work that...it gives me hope. It gives A--Adrien hope that someday he can maybe find something he can follow so passionately as well.”

Something in her chest moved then. She had never seen this side of Chat before. His normal bravado was gone, and all that was left behind was a normal young man. And this young man seemed to be more caring and compassionate than she had ever given him credit for.

She felt sorry for the young cat. She had only ever known him as the fighting rogue who was relentless in trying to keep her from living her normal life. And yet, that's all he wanted as well. A normal life, with hopes and aspirations.

Marinette was living her dream. But what about Chat?

“Chat? What do you hope for?”

She could hear the sad smile in his voice as he croaked out, “I hope that someday I can find unconditional happiness. No sadness, no stress, no strings attached. That’s what I want most.”

Marinette knew that feeling all too well. All throughout secondary school, all she had wanted was to make others happy and to make herself happy. Not because of the Akuma attacks but because she always believed everyone had the right to their own life and not to be tied down by petty things like needing to feel bad about themselves for others’ benefits.

She had struggled for so long to find the balance as a hero, a designer, and florist. Finally, she had found it, but only after trying for over six years. Now, here she was, happy with the only condition of making money to support her happiness. But...Chat didn’t seem to have that.

She felt the need to comfort him. To try and make him feel better as one of his hands shook against her side.

She brought her hand up to gently grab his wrist as he worked. He started at the contact, but didn't pull away as she sat up slightly. "Chat, this might be forward, but...can I give you a hug?"

She heard his intake of breath and sat up more, ignoring the weird sensation it ran through her stomach.

After what seemed like an eternity of internal debate, Chat slipped his hand from her grip. He wrapped his hands tentatively around her waist as she moved closer, twining her own arms around his neck.

She could feel the fluffy softness of his hair on her cheek as she buried her face in the crook on his neck, reveling in the way it made him melt more. He also bent to rest his head on her shoulder.

They stayed like that for a while, hearts and breathes mingling as they both sought comfort from the last person they thought they'd go to.

This is oddly familiar, Marinette allowed herself to think as she inhaled the smell of him. Cologne, soap, leather, and kerasine. Why does this feel so famliar?

“Thank you, Marinette." He murmured from her neck.

She smiled and nodded. It...it felt strangely good to her to be this close to him. And it was weird, it was like she had been hugged by him before too, a small memory tugging at the back of her mind.

But before she knew it she felt him letting go.

He pulled away and held her by the shoulders for a moment longer before finally retreating to pick up his supplies.

"You're good as new, Princess," he purred and moved to elsewhere in the room.

Marinette took the moment to run her fingers along her stomach. Chat had somehow fully dressed her in gauze and bandages while he was talking and she hadn’t even realized it. By the feeling of pressing into the gauze he had also put some sort of cream over the cut, hopefully, something that would help the healing process.

“Thank you. The pain is gone.”

She heard him opening and closing drawers as he no doubt finished cleaning up. “It should be. That ointment was given to me by a good friend of mine. It should allow for faster healing and minimal scarring.”

“That’s incredible, but I still feel a little light-headed.” Marinette remarked, pressing a hand to her fuzzy temple.

“I thought you might be. Reach forward, there’s a glass on that table. It’s just water but it should help.”

She sat forward and draped her legs off the side of the couch, reaching out to feel the cold smoothness of glass pressing into her fingertips after a moment of searching the tabletop.

She reached forwards just a little farther hoping to get a better purchase on the cup but found it tipping, and before she knew it she heard a torrent of water wash across the floor.

Chat was there by her side as she felt about in a panic, trying to find something to mop up the mess.

He assured her it was ok and whistled, signaling some sort of buzzing mechanics to come and disappear just as fast.

This time he took her hand in his and guided it towards the glass, pressing the slick cup into her palm, and wrapping her fingers gently around it.

She thanked him and raised it to her lips, realizing that it was once again full and that the sound of water dripping from the table had ceased.

She guessed it was some sort of cleaning device he had called but she didn’t really have the care enough to ask.

There was silence then, save for the sound of Chat organizing his drawers, pulling out different projects and tools, and the chirping of the nearby mechanism.

It wasn’t uncomfortable like all of their previous silences. It was as if the sunlight streaming in around them was coming through her blindfold and wrapping her in its warmth. She sunk back into the cushions and enjoyed sipping her water and smelling her flowers.

Dying or not, this was a part of her empire, and she was going to enjoy it.

But it did set a spark of curiosity in her, and after what seemed like forever, yet much too short of a time in the comfortable symphony of silence, she broke it with a cacophonous question.

“What flowers are housed here?”

Her voice sounded alien to her own ears, and the question sounded strange as if it didn’t have a place in the settling calm of their surrounds. But, the interruption didn’t seem to bother Chat.

“All of them except those creme and dark purple ones.”

Creme and dark purple ones? “Do you mean the Ranunculus?”

“If those are the ones that are reserved for Mr. Agreste and Adrien’s shoots, then yes. Those are the ones.” Chat chirped.

Marinette frowned. “Where are those kept?”

Chat brushed something from the table, or maybe it was him shrugging? She couldn’t tell. “In the Agreste Manor. They're kept in a separate observatory tower and dehydrated before being thrown into a furnace below the place to help power it.”

Marinette frowned at the thought of her livelihood being burned for fuel but was more curious as to why the special care of only those flowers.

“Does Mr. Agreste just especially hate the Ranunculus?” Marinette offered as she tried to dig deeper into their care.

Chat seemed perplexed by the question. “What? No. Hell it's probably the only flower that I've--I mean Adien has ever heard him admit to liking. He had their pollen and nectar extracted to make a personalized cologne that he wears to galas or important shows. The petals he sometimes takes and uses in the pigment of some of his own hair products too.”

Marinette was surprised. She knew there was always more than one use of the plant but never would she have thought that someone like Mr. Agreste would be so attuned to the uses of biological organisms such as flora.

This time she was sure it was a shrug. “He knows he can’t actually patent and sell either the cologne or the cosmetics, though. Since it would have to be in partnership with your brand and he knows those flowers would no longer be exclusive to him and his events. So, he keeps them for himself. So don’t worry. You’re work is still safe.”

Marinette frowned. “How do you know so much about Mr. Agreste and my branding and well, just, everything?”

She heard a small chuckle as the chair he had been perched in was slid back. “That, my dear, is for me to know, and you to lose sleep over. Plagg, transform me.”

There was a gust of hot air and the smell of kerosene in the air as Chat’s transformation turned him back into his superhero alter-ego.

“For now, Princess,” he murmured as he bent before her to remove the blindfold. She was greeted with the sight of his green glassed eyes, mussed blonde hair, the smell of his leather trenchcoat, and the chilling feeling of one of his gloved hands coming to intertwine gently in hers, “I need to get you home.”

For some reason the contact of their laced fingers finally brought the odd nature of the situation to Marinette's mind.

This was Chat Noir, why was he suddenly being so personal? So intimate?

She realized he hadn’t been pulling out projects but had been pulling out food for his Kwami and changing back into his normal fighting attire. The feeling of his leather-clad fingers in hers gave her a shock as well. Why was he suddenly being so genuine? She knew in his civilian form it might have made more sense but now with his normal bravado?

Then her mind seemed to snag onto the detail of his mechanical friend and how he had needed to be fed. She had been doing something with Tikki before coming here...oh, oh dammit.

She needed an excuse for him to take her to Fu. What to use...

“Actually, can you take me somewhere else?” Marinette asked with a small pleading smile, the urgency of retrieving her own Kwami coming back to her. “I need to pick up something.”

He looked confused for a moment before one of Marinette’s hands reached up to indicate her still choker bound throat. “I still need to get this healed up before my clients begin questioning the fashion change.”

Chat’s look was nothing less than mournful, but he nodded and bent to pick her up. His hands were soft on her sides this time, gently cupping her back and legs. She wrapped her arms around his neck to make sure he wouldn’t drop her.

As he turned she thought she caught a glimpse of something unusual clipped to the back of his waist but soon convinced herself that is was nothing more than his staff and her eyes playing tricks on her.

“Where to? Princess?” Chat asked as he walked over and opened one of the large sliding glass doors with his shoulder.

Marinette scanned the buildings around her, trying to determine if she recognized any of this part of the Plat. No luck. “There’s this little old Chinaman’s medicine and massage parlor across town from where I live--”

“Say no more.” Chat interrupted and took off sprinting nearly at his top speed.

He dodged easily in between structures and around people and before she knew it Marinette found herself being lowered onto the sidewalk outside of Fu’s shop.

“This is your stop, Princess.” Chat purred as her feet hit the copper laced bricks she was used to.

She steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders and a small smile on her face. “Thank you, Chat. I’m sorry for snapping so much earlier. I'll try trusting your judgment more.”

He grinned, the joy and warmth behind it bubbling out. It was odd but she realized she had never really seen him smile. At least, not a happy smile. Not like this.

It looked nice on him.

“It’s about time.” He purred and moved slightly closer.

Marinette didn’t know why but she didn’t move back either as she felt his hands slide around her shoulders, bringing her close for another embrace.

Why was he hugging her? Why the sudden flirting and warmth? Was he trying to prove something or make up for everything?

She didn’t know, but she let her hands drift to his torso as he held her even closer.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Princess.”

She scoffed, no malice in the noise this time. “I still think you should have taken me to the hospital.”

She felt his chest bounce with his chuckle and a smile tugged at her lips. “Maybe I should have. But I know you’ll be fine. You’re strong like that.”

She was starting to feel slightly awkward in his embrace as he buried his face in her hair.

Why?

Why was he doing this?

Why the sudden show of affection?

Why the god-y speech about her career back in the hanger?

She didn’t know, but thinking about it and trying to figure it out was making her head spin. She pushed the thoughts out of her mind as she decided on clearing her throat.

Chat got the message and released her, quickly backing away. “Oh, uh, sorry. That was--” he cleared his throat and reached behind him, going for a change of subject. “I, uh, have something for you. It’s supposed to be an apology but I hope you understand--”

They both heard the door to the shop open behind Marinette and Chat reacted quickly. He unhooked the present that was strapped to his belt and quickly moved to Marinette.

His chest nearly touched hers and she could smell the musk of leather from him as his breath tickled her forehead. Something weighty and round was lowered onto her head and Chat quickly backed away, bowing and looking...scared as he turned and launched himself up the nearest wall with his staff.

His abrupt leaving puzzled Marinette, needing the familiar voice behind her to pull her from her confusion, “Ah, Marinette, you’re late! I have your order ready. Do you have my bread?”

She shook away her muddled mind, turning to her mentor with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Master Fu, but I ran into an Akuma and lost it. Is it ok if I bring you it and some more camomile tomorrow as repayment?”

Fu’s face lit up and he moved to her side. “Of course it is, my dear. And by the way, I love the crown. Purple is representative of divinity in Chinese culture, you know? White is also the color of purity.”

“Purple and white?” Marinette muttered, bemused, as she pulled down the flower crown that Chat had clumsily given her.

What she found was a woven loop of Ranunculus perfectly crafted into the exact shape of her head. She stared in wonder at the flowers.

These were only meant for the Agreste shoots. And didn’t Chat say they were only kept in the Agreste Manor? How did he get a hold of them?

A shiver took over Marinette’s spine and she knew she was being watched. She looked over her shoulder and saw Chat perched a rooftop away on a chimney, his goggles glinting in the evening glow as he gazed down at her.

“Actually,” she corrected, not taking her eyes off the leather clad man, “they’re creme colored.”

Notes:

Holy hell this part is long and it's been too long since I last was on this website with an actual update.
Sorry, I'm such a pleb you guys and you have full right to hate me for not updating in so long.
BOOOOO Aspiring you're lame and no excuses. You're just evil for updating this and not Scrawl Mates.
not gonna lie to angst queen feels more like a fluff queen so a;lhgdapoeihgaoskdfj take it or leave it this is what I've got for now. Sorry guys.
There is more to come I promise I just have to get a few of the things cluttering my to do list out of the way first.

Chapter 6: Falling For You

Summary:

Marinette has a party and an epiphany.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Marinette twirled the Ranunculus petal around in her pocket as she gazed over the crowds before her. It was the one thing to keep her at ease in the insanity around her, but also to be driving her slowly mad.

She stood in the corner of the grand room, staring at the intricate way her vines and flowers climbed their way up the arches to the vaulted ceiling. She waited to see if a single petal would fall or if any of her work would be tampered with as the gala guests began spilling in from the large doors across the room. She flinched as so many bright colors and metallic shades came through the tinted glass.

Sometimes, she had to admit, it made her sick how people decorated themselves with metals and gears and cogs; as if those materials couldn't have been used in a practical manner rather than aesthetically pleasing everyone but the wearer. She frowned at a young woman who had a gasket coming from the side of her bun, and another young man who seemed to not even care he had a tailpipe running along the length of his back and his tailbone.

She frowned, noting all the things she should and shouldn't do in all of her later designs.

She was approached by a woman in black and metallic silver striped slacks and a matching suit jacket. The red streak and glasses frames perched on her nose let Marinette know exactly who it was she was about to talk with.

"Ms. Dupain-Chang, you are released for the night. The room is in order and your payment will be delivered tomorrow morning to you at the discussion of next week's shoot."

Marinette nodded and took off just as she happened to glimpse the young woman of the night who was coming through the door in her flowing pink gown and complimenting pumps.

Marinette was proud of the work she had done for Chloe's birthday. Not only in the design of the dress and shoes--not too showy but not too dressed down, mind you--but also the arrangement of flowers. Chloe had special ordered Pink Carnations to be delivered with the exception of them still being on the vines so they could be put up.

Of course, Chloe didn’t realize that Carnations don’t grow on a vine. So, Marinette had been commissioned once again (and for additional pay) to spend the night tending to the synthetic grape vines and to work on twining the flowers into the leafy tendrils that hung lazily from the ceiling.

With the contrasting oranges, coppers, and brass hints of the building meeting the dark green leaves and vines tangled with the pink of the flowers Marinette knew exactly the feel Chloe had been going for.

Nature and technology meet to create beauty.

Of course, none of the plants would be allowed to live after tonight, since most would tamper with the structural integrity of the hotel’s ballroom. But, the thought was nice.

So, as Marinette squeezed the pressed petal between two fingers she took up her work bag and slipped past the guards at the back door. Starting her way home.

She gently touched her throat, feeling the soft lace rub against her neck in a less than comfortable manner.

The bruises had nearly gone, and yet, she still needed to wear a necklace until even the yellowing marks were completely out of sight.

She was just happy they were finally leaving, and that she had Tikki back.

Marinette’s feet instinctively pick up the pace as she began jogging home. She’d missed her companion over the past few days and even now dreaded having to leave her at home like this while she went to work.

So, by the time that she started up the ramps to her workshop she was nearly at a full sprint.

When she was inside with the door safely closed and locked behind her she took a deep breath.

The feeling hadn’t left her.

The unease.

She felt in her pocket again for the silky smooth petal that she had set over the night in a book under her desk to help keep it from rotting. Now, she found it to be the item of her demise.

Her stomach turned the longer her fingers dabbled over the veins and where they had originally conjoined to the stem.

Her head throbbed and she could feel herself starting to get lost in the wonder of it.

A purple Ranunculus.

Only one person in the entire Plat ordered that flower, and apparently kept entirely to himself.

Gabriel Agreste.

But, Marinette had met Mr. Agreste, and unless Chat’s miraculous had shrinking powers, he was much too tall and too slim to be Chat.

So...how?

She thought about her time with her feline adversary the day before in the hanger. How he had kept stumbling over his words and mixing pronouns with names.

She recalled the way he had suddenly changed outside of his persona and how he spoke of openly admiring her.

She mentally gazed up into the green-tinted eyes behind the goggles and the blond hair that fell forward into his face.

The look that made him look so feral, so dangerous, so foreign.

The feeling of his hands on her; gentle, soft, familiar.

Her stomach lurched as a name came to mind and she had no choice but to sit down on the floor before her knees gave way.

There was no way.

There had to be a better explanation than it being him.

She refused to believe that the boy she loved was also the one that had tried to kill her.

Her hand went to touch her throat as she drew up the image of Adrien in Fu’s parlor, looking so angered and...mournful?

How had she not seen it before?

The sadness in his eyes, the way his hands had twitched when she said Chat had gotten what he deserved.

She cringed and held her breath against the wave of nausea and headache that tumbled over her.

She slumped forward, looking down at the petal she pulled from her pocket.

How?

How could this happen?

“I guess, you found out.”

Marinette’s head slowly raised to see Tikki peeking out from behind the door frame to the greenhouse. The little Kwami looked more scared than anything as she hesitated in hovering over to her chosen.

But, after a long and pained look from Marinette, a plea to have some answers, she relinquished her spot behind the metal entry.

She flew over slowly, testing her antennae propellers as she went, but Marinette knew she was just stalling the inevitable.

Tikki landed on Marinette’s knees and grabbed an antennae, toying with it as she avoided her friend’s eyes.

“Uh, so, how are things?”

Marinette nearly laughed at how ridiculous her Kwami was acting. “You knew?” She chose to bark instead.

The mechanical ladybug girl cringed and looked up. “N-no! Well, yes. Wait, actually, not exactly.”

Marinette ground her teeth. “What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?”

Her Kwami winced and let go of her antennae so she could fly up to look at her wielder. “I knew that there was a miraculous in the Agreste family, I just don’t know who had or still does have it. It felt like Plagg, but it also felt like a few others as well.”

Marinette rubbed her temples in an attempt to quell her mind’s onslaught of throbbing. “Others? How many others?’

Tikki seemed to think for a moment. “Two, so three in total. Each of us gives off a charge that can linger on metal pieces of clothing or tools. Only other Kwami’s can sense it but each is unique to the Kwami.”

This was making little to no sense to Marinette. “So, are you saying you've broken again? There can’t be more than one Kwami in their house if Adrien is…”

Marinette stopped, thinking for a moment.

If Adrien was Chat Noir. That would mean Mr. Agreste is…

It felt as if the final piece of a puzzle she had been trying to solve for years had finally fallen into place.

Could Hawk Moth be Chat Noir’s father? Is that why Chat was so hell-bent on getting her to give up what she stole? Was he referring to the Miraculous she was given?

She looked at her Kwami, knowing the little companion was already one step ahead of her.

“They’re both at Chloe’s party tonight,” Marinette remembered with a shock as she shot to her feet. “I need to find a way into that party so I can talk to Adrien. If I get him alone I can maybe get him to tell me if he’s Chat. And if he is then I can explain things and maybe talk some sense into him.”

Tikki flew up to Marinette’s height as the young woman moved through her shop and down into her home with remarkable speed. “Do you have anything to wear?”

Marinette pulled open her closet. “I thought that Chloe would want me to stay for the rest of the night to tend to things so I made a dress just in case. That way I wouldn’t stand out too much.”

She pulled out the red and copper cocktail gown, its slit leg design being perfect for still letting the bionics attach if anything went horribly wrong.

There was no way she was going to be leaving for the party without Tikki if both Chat and Hawk Moth are going to be there.

She had just pulled off her work shirt when she realized one key factor. You needed an invitation to get in.

She racked her brain for a solution, half frozen with her shirt pulled over her elbows as Tikki fluttered by nervously straightening any wrinkles she saw in Marinette’s dress.

How would she get in? There weren’t any hatches in the building that weren’t already covered in the synthetic vines. She couldn’t get in them without messing up her own handiwork that she had toiled hours over, and she couldn’t just go walking in the front door because of security.

Adrien was going to be there, she knew that, and she knew she needed to talk to him.

She scoured her mind for any other possible way in or any other way she could get Chat alone without him attacking her or her causing a scene but she only drew a blank.

Her head pounded as she dropped her shirt to the floor and nervously gnawed on one of her nails, pacing around, trying to think of a solution.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you need to change?” Tikki berated her as she hovered nervously by.

“I can't go. I’m not invited.” Marinette offered as if that explained everything that was going through her mind.

Tikki made a sound that was as close to a human sputter as she could manage. “Who cares about invites?”

“If I go, I’ll lose my pay for the venue, and I need the money Tikki,” Marinette growled as she pushed her brain into focusing.

Tikki scoffed, flying to stop the young woman in her tracks. “You’re Ladybug, you don’t need an invitation. Besides, Chloe loves you! I bet she’d be more than happy to have her superhero stop by to wish her a happy birthday.”

Marinette rolled the idea around her head for a moment. Surely the guards would let in Ladybug, not only for her celebrity status but for the protective qualities of having her there. Chloe would be ecstatic for having her around and Marinette saw no issue in her needing to pull aside Adrien if she’s in Ladybug form.

She could just simply say she needed to ask him about an Akuma in his shoot that happened the week before, or if the last one had been caused by his father’s company in any way.

She pulled the gnarled nail from her mouth and quickly stripped off the rest of her clothing, hoping to god the dress would work with her transformation.

She slipped it on effortlessly and with a little help from Tikki got it properly tightened and adjusted.

“Tikki! Transform me!”

She waited for the familiar outfit to encompass her, but this time things were different.

The normal striped leggings turned into silky, ombre black tights with the microfilaments giving off a silver shine. Wires wound into a mechanized arm brace for her right side, taking up all skin besides her exposed hand. Even so, the tendrils came down to wrap around her wrist and twine into a single line of support along her middle bone, where it twined around the finger almost like an accessory.

Her other arm was brandished with a golden vine of wires running to her wrist, thin as paper and hard to see but easily felt in how they aided her movement.

As she pulled her hair up into a quick spiral bun and put on her normal ribbon mask she felt the mechanics of her suit come up to form a protective wire-lace collar around her throat.

She took off her previous one and looked at herself in the mirror.

She had her breath taken away by the sight of herself, and that was a rarity for her. Marinette made a mental note to commend Tikki for her ability to adapt to any situation.

Without pause, Marinette wound her way out of her home and out into the setting sun.


Getting into the party had been easy enough. Marinette had made sure to ask the guards not to notify Chloe since she was there as a surprise, and because of that, no one had yet recognized the masked heroin.

As she strolled through the crowd, weaving her way through the ever-changing bodies, she found herself noting how some people had ignored the fact that only Chloe was supposed to wear a mask. The young blonde wanted to emulate a Cinderella theme in only her own style of dressing, but a few guests had neglected to leave out the fashion decision.

Marinette thanked those who wore the accessories silently as she slipped past a young man being interrogated for looking too much like Chat Noir in his mask.

She took one glance at the boy and moved on.

Chat has blond hair, she mentally scolded the young woman jabbing a finger at the poor and confused youth, not red.

After searching for an indiscriminate amount of time Marinette knew this had been poorly thought out on her part. Of course, it was going to be hard to find Adrien in a crowd like this, but she didn’t know it was going to be impossible.

At least no one had--

“Ladybug?” She heard from behind her and immediately tensed.

Shit.

She turned, plastering on the best fake smile she could muster before facing the girl this ball was being thrown for.

Chloe’s face lit up and she squealed, luckily only drawing the attention of one young man nearby, who seemed to lose interest upon noticing the source.

The blonde brat rushed over, nearly tackling Marinette in a hug as she lurched back to support the physical onslaught.

“I can’t believe I get to see Ladybug today. And on my birthday nonetheless! Oh, did daddy invite you or did you just come? Oh, never mind. You’re here! This really is the best birthday ever!” She continued to scream, luckily not alarming any of the other guests.

Marinette noted that those around seemed even more used to Chloe’s overreacting than she was.

“Yes, yes, I am here, Ms. Bourgeois,” Marinette sputtered with a nervous laugh and pat on Chloe’s back. “But, you need to keep it down. I’m here to make sure things go smoothly tonight for you.”

Chloe pulled away, looking saddened to hear her favorite hero wasn’t, in fact, here for her.

Marinette sighed, pulling the young woman into an awkward hug. “And, I’m here to tell you...happy birthday.”

It sounded like an afterthought, (to be fair it was) but it seemed enough for Chloe.

Her face cracked into a grin behind her mask, her dress puffing up with each bounce the young woman performed.

She hugged Marinette again, too tightly this time. The raven-haired girl worried the dress she designed would be ruined by all the pressure on the ruffled skirt.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone you are here,” Chloe whispered, giving Marinette a small bit of relief.

Quickly, the blonde seemed to change demeanor. She quickly let go of the heroine, moving instead to go spinning off into the crowd, almost ignoring Marinette.

That is until she turned one last time and blew a kiss to the young woman she had nearly bowled over moments before.

Marinette felt a cold shiver go down her spine.

What the hell had she done to deserve a fan like that?

Either way, she was gone and Marinette could breathe.

She sighed and turned around, looking feebly for the young man she had come here for in the first place.

She luckily didn’t have to look far.

As she took off into the crowd someone moved in her way, both of them tumbling down into a pile on the floor as she plowed straight over them.

Marinette winced and apologized to the young man she had just fallen on before realizing just who she had stumbled into.

A pair of meadow green eyes stared up at her from behind a mop of blond hair. Oh, god, did they look dangerously innocent when he wasn’t Chat.

Adrien blinked up at Marinette, seemingly baffled by the sight before him.

“L--ladybug?” He demanded, shock lacing every letter of her name.

A ping ran through her, from the top of her head to her toes, causing her to freeze above him, one uncovered leg slipping from her gown to land on the floor between his.

If not for the situation and people staring, she would have thought this the most romantic scene ever.

It took her a moment to shake her mind back into sorts, but soon she was sitting up on her knees, going to stand.

She offered Adrien a hand, reminding herself that this is possibly the same boy that had nearly killed her on a handful of accounts and left her with the bruises still on her throat.

“I’m sorry, Adrien. I was actually just looking for someone.” She said, her voice dangerously smooth and alluring.

He took her hand with a small grin pulling at his lips, his eyes sparking at her tone. “Well, if it was me then I think you’ve found him.”

As he stood he seemed to read her expression. She didn’t try to hide it either. The pain and the anger that creased her brow, while the concern and uncertainty drew her eyes away from his and instead to his lips.

“Were you looking for me?” He questions, his voice more surprised than anything.

Before Marinette can answer a loud voice booms through the room and everyone turns to see none other than Nino standing on a stage opposite the doors.

He looks dressed up enough for the venue in a slightly unbuttoned white shirt and a pair of black and copper trousers, but his bronze hat and silver headset let Marinette know immediately that he was to be the one saving anyone from hearing their conversations tonight.

She thanked him quietly for always playing loud and annoying music.

“Alright, all you lovebirds best get ready,” he chirped from the stage with a grin, “cause t’night we are starting off with a slow dance just for all you starstruck devils out there.”

Marinette made a mental note to kick Nino’s ass next she saw him.

How was she supposed to talk to Adrien without drawing attention during a couple’s dance number? Chloe was going to be here any moment asking for him to dance with her--

“Well, if you were looking for me, do you want to talk during a dance?” Adrien cut off her thoughts.

She opened her mouth to reply but found no words. Even when he wasn’t Chat Noir this guy had always been more articulate than her.

She simply relinquished her arms to his shoulders and hands as he pulled her close and began swaying as soon as the first soft piano notes pierced the air.

Things were deadly silent and still, and yet people were moving around, and there was music. Marinette was sure of it. There had been music, hadn’t there?

She was sure there had been a thousand or more people in the room just moments ago, and that the music had been too loud for thought. But now, all she saw was Adrien before her, and all she heard was his soft bitter laughter.

She felt his hands hot on her own and grasping her side. He was warm, too warm. Everywhere he touched felt like it had caught fire and was going to melt away.

Something sickly sweet and silky smelling reached her nose and she realized it was the scent of Ranunculus. He must be wearing the perfume Chat had talked about before. The kind that Gabriel only made for himself.

It was another sign that this was her cat, she knew it.

Her breathing sped up and she felt her heart pumping feverishly in her chest. Her palms felt sweaty and clammy and she hoped he wouldn’t notice as she sucked one of her lips between her teeth.

Why was she getting so nervous? He had been around this boy so many times before and nothing like this had happened when she was Ladybug.

He leaned closer and she could feel the heat coming off his skin and hear the beating of his heart, or was that her own?

“Where have you been for the past few days? I saw you weren’t at the last Akuma attack.”

Marinette was shocked by the silky poison that was laced into his words. If she hadn’t known any better she would have told anyone that he already hated her.

Oh, wait, she thought with a shiver, he might.

She offered him a smile, trying to seem cool and casual. “I had some other business to attend to. Something had happened to a friend of mine so I left things for Chat to take care of. Kitty did a good job on his own, I would say.”

Adrien’s face seemed to darken a little, but he shook it off and offered her a bitter smile. “Chat seemed a little lost without you. I even heard that some people got hurt during the last attack.”

Marinette nearly choked on her own tongue. Not a single news outlet had reported any injuries for any of the recent attacks, she knew that better than anyone because of Alya. But no, Adrien had brought up her injury like it was nothing.

There was no doubt in her mind now that she was dealing with a very dangerous young man at this moment, just without his smoke and mirrors.

“I didn’t hear about any injuries from the tabloids.” She noted, looking at him skeptically.

A bitter smile took over his face as he held her closer, his hands sliding to the small of her back. “Well, I think Chat mentioned something about not wanting to let people know about it the other day.”

“Oh?” Marinette quipped, feeling ever so vulnerable in his grasp even though she was the one with her suit in place. “Are you and Kitty acquainted?”

There it was, the smallest twitch in his eye at the nickname. She knew he hated it, and that’s exactly why she was using it now, to hopefully draw the cat out so she could maybe get him to follow her.

If she just got him away from his father…

“I guess you could say he and I have met.” Adrien offered, a cruel grin tickling his eyes.

Marinette shivered and knew that by now someone must have noticed them, they needed to get out of there so she could talk to him in private.

“Well, I think you two are more than just friends,” she purred. “In fact, I think you two could very much be the same person, you’re so alike.”

“Is that so?” Adrien questioned with a sharp laugh, looking at the crowd to avoid her gaze. “Good to know you could maybe fall for me like you’ve fallen for him.”

Marinette winced internally, remembering her revenge kiss.

He had the upper hand in this conversation and she knew she needed to end it before he got too far into her head.

She was just so thrown off by his behavior that it was hard to think of what to say.

Why was he acting so cruel? Where had the Adrien she’d seen in Fu’s parlor only days before gone? Was it because he had destroyed the Akuma’s himself that he was acting like this? Had he been affected by their spray?

She offered him a sweet but sad smile, flipping into the best actress mode she had. “Well, you see, that’s the problem,” she sighed dramatically. “I miss my Kitty. I haven’t seen him in days and I was hoping I could talk to him outside for a little while.”

Just as fast as she had changed Adrien did the same. His face grew dark and his eyes sharp, his hand on her back pulled her in flush against him as his other hand came to her neck, gently running against it as he brushed her hair away from her shoulder.

It sent shivers down her spine and nearly drew a whimper from her throat as she tried desperately to think of anything but his hands on her. The memories of last time he was this close to her throat clawing at the back of her eyes.

“I think he’d like nothing more than to see you. I’ll have him there for you in a moment.” He whispered from her ear, his lips brushing her skin.

She refused to squirm from his arms at the sound and simply waited for him to let go.

He finally relinquished his grip on her when he didn’t get a reaction, backing away to bow and take his leave.

Marinette found her lungs working again, but this time they had seemingly shrunk in size. She couldn’t get enough air to clear her dizzy mind.

Her feet felt like bricks and her legs lead pipes as she numbly stumbled through the crowd, trying her best to ignore the way that people stared at her as she kept her eyes locked on the front entrance.

What had just happened? How had he had such a toxic effect on her?

She couldn’t even come up with a feasible reaction to what had just occurred as she burst through the front doors and out into the night air.

It was cold and on her bare face and lungs. It felt amazing; helping to sharpen her mind a little.

But a smell was still stuck in her nose, making her vision swim and her limbs nearly melt off her. The longer she breathed the night air the more it cleared from her sinuses but she still felt the powerful effects of it.

That cologne. It was the thing that was doing this to her. She knew it.

It had the power to make her docile, dizzy, unable to do or think of anything willingly. Is that how Hawkmoth was able to control Adrien for all of these years? Wearing that cologne every time they met so he would become just as trained as a common pet?

She heard the footsteps on the building’s roof above, she knew she did, and the sound of fabric flapping in wind as something fell; her mind just couldn’t keep up with what was going on or process what the sound was until it was almost too late.

She dove out of the way just in time, Chat landing on the road next to her hard enough to chip the metal and brick surface as his hydraulic leg supports let out a hiss of steam.

His eyes burned poisonously as she stumbled to her feet sluggishly, trying to blink away her swimming vision.

This was bad. He knew he had an advantage, and she knew just how dangerous he was when he was in this state. The real question was how willingly would he take revenge on her?

“What’s the matter?” He purred, his voice tearing into her bit by bit. “Is someone having a little trouble?”

He grinned as she stumbled back, her back hitting the wall of the grand hotel. “What did you do to me?”

It was a ridiculous question, she already knew the answer. But, her mouth had spoken before she could even process the words she had intended to say.

Many of them contained only four letters.

Her hands scrambled for her yo-yo as he started towards her, laughing bitterly. “What you’re feeling now is exactly how you left me after you kissed me. Does that seem fair?”

Marinette swallowed thickly, looking around for anything she could focus on enough to throw at. “No, no it isn’t fair and I’m sorry, Chat. I really am.”

He shook his head, his eyes closing for a split second as his arm wound back. “You’re way too late for an apology.”

She didn’t have time to wait and talk. Marinette desperately chucked her yo-yo at a nearby window ledge as she heard the pistons in his arm engaging.

The mechanisms in her yo-yo nearly pulled her arm off as it drug her away just in time to hear his hand hit the wall hard enough to fracture and disintegrate a lot of the bricks.

That’s new, she thought bitterly as she stumbled over her own feet to try and get away.

She could hear him shout after her but she couldn’t afford to be distracted by his voice or the sound of his feet behind her, slowly gaining.

She had to focus on her own steps, and making sure they didn’t falter as she ran along the changing buildings. Familiar designs and skylines moving to older and less familiar architecture the longer she ran and the more tired she became.

Then, she finally hit the end of the road, literally.

It was a desperate move, just as she heard Chat shout out after her, his hand just grazing her shoulders, she rocketed herself forward off the roof of a factory. She realized they had come to the end of the Plat a little too late.

She spun as she saw the matte brick streets disappear from beneath her to reveal nothing but smoldering clouds below, frantically throwing her yo-yo to one of the guard rails.

It caught, but just barely. Her shoulders ached and groaned as she clung to her control on the life-saving device, hitting the button to ascend away from the plummet to hell below.

As she painfully hoisted herself up from her own demise she saw the copper-tipped boots before feeling the claws close around her throat and lift her easily back to the Plat.

The wiring around her throat strained to protect her from his grasp, and luckily this time she could still breathe.

His grin was so deadly she began to question if she’d rather deal with him or the fall.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, his flirty malice pulling on her heart as she clawed at his hand.

“Adrien, I know it’s you, please.” She begged, tears coming to her eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

He shook his head. “Oh, so now you finally figure it out.”

The look he was giving her was so profoundly hateful, but also so hurt she started to wonder if she had done anything else to this young man beyond their fights.

“You know; I’ve known for years that you were Ladybug. I’ve known ever since we graduated,” he relented, his grip on her throat shaking ever so slightly. “You never knew, though. Do you know how hard it’s been not to come and catch you at your shop. How long I’ve kept your secret from him?”

Marinette shook her head, trying desperately to think of something to say, but she could smell the cologne again and it was clouding her mind. All she could see were his burning green eyes and his gritted teeth. “I don’t. But if you let me go we can talk about it and find a way to stop him.”

Chat’s eyes burned into her as his jaw clenched, his hand tightening. “Stop him? He gives me the thing you stole from me,” he barked, pulling her close so her toes just barely touched the tops of his boots as his lips brushed her ear. “He gives me the dignity you stole with that kiss...”

Marinette’s eyes went wide, shooting to gaze at the green eyes she desperately wanted to plead with. What was he thinking?

“And a chance for revenge.”

That’s when her heart stopped. Her lungs ceased to work and no amount of magical body armor would ever convince her that his words didn’t pierce right through her chest.

Her fingers became frantic as his face hardened and his grip suddenly became too strong for the wiring on her throat, restricting her breathing as he ground his teeth.

“You learned how to grow your flowers from a surface dweller, right?” Chat purred, his arm pulling her back just a little further. “Why don’t you go tell them how things are going for you, Mari?”

And before Marinette could even make a sound Chat took a step back to brace himself.

The piston in his arm rocketed forward with such speed she was amazed that her head didn’t come off. When he let go she flew at least ten feet away from the edge before she began to fall, but that ten feet could have lasted a lifetime.

Her fingers caught on his suit jacket, ripping free the cuff and the pendant cufflink with it. But, neither one of them was focused on that.

She was focused on the look of utter disgust and betrayal that pressed his face to stone as his fingers stood open to the air between them. She was focused on the tightness of his jaw and the broad bite of his turning shoulders.

She was focused on the hot cursed tears running from his eyes to pool in the bottom of his goggles.

As she fell past the side of the Plat, looking at all the ventilation and piping she felt numb, her arms not quite working with her.

She couldn’t hear anything, the wind was too loud.

Was she screaming?

Was he screaming?

No, it was silent.

An oddly peaceful silence that seemed to lull her just enough to take her away from her home.

She threw her yo-yo once, not really targeting as she did so. And when it bounced off one of the water pipes under the Plat she felt the final piece of her heartbreak.

As she descended into the murky clouds below she kept her eyes open for anything to save herself with, knowing this was going to be her best chance at survival.

Just as she was about to give up hope, she saw it; a church spire.

She wound up her arm and with what strength she could muster she propelled the yo-yo forward to wrap around the highest point.

It caught, and she swung around, crashing hard into the ground that suddenly rushed up to great her like an old friend.

She rolled on impact, landing in sut and muck, not caring as she came to rest in a pile of broken bricks and wood.

She’d made it safe, but, she couldn’t celebrate. She felt herself drifting out of consciousness as the smell of Ranunculus mixed with the poisoned air to fill her lungs in a suffocating cloud.

As she closed her eyes she welcomed the dark, hoping she would wake up and this had all been a dream.

Notes:

HOLY HELL I'M LAME AS A WRITER
So much has been going on for me you guys you don't even know but here I am.
Yes, I'm alive.
Yes, things have worked themselves out.
And yes I'll work on updating again on all the stories.
Thank you so much for sticking through this with me I love you all so much.

Chapter 7: Unworldly Nightmares

Summary:

Marinette finds herself on the surface and has to find a way home.

Notes:

Okay, so if you're a returning reader a quick note!
I went back and changed up the chapters a little. It has nothing to do with the plot I just changed some of the dialogue and some of the situations a bit to fit my mental image better (basically rewriting the scenes I didn't feel all that confident in.)
You can go back and reread them if you want or you can continue on and you won't have missed anything, I promise!
Okay, onto the update!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

If she had hoped the events of the night were only a dream, Marinette would pray that what she woke up to was only a nightmare.

Acrid air filled her lungs as she tried to breath, scathing her throat in hot and angry trails as she tried to hack up the poison.

She doubled over, her hands stumbling across the bricks around her for purchase as the coughing shook her sore frame, bringing to attention just how injured she was.

It took a few minutes of her eyes watering and her chest-thumping with hollow attempts to regain some clear air, but soon she brought it down to a small choking sensation nagging at her.

She looked around, finding she was laying in what looked like the remanence of an old building. Rotting wooden beams jutted out of the crumbling brick and mortar chunks that dug into her thighs. A church stood tall before her, one of the walls collapsing inward on itself and the others looking ready to join it.

Her mind was blurry from the air, the smell of gas and decay as she felt along her body, trying to figure out just how screwed she might have been.

Her right leg was hurt, but not too bad that she couldn’t walk she figured, and her left arm had taken most of her fall. Angry looking bruises peppered the skin, but she found no cuts. She grimaced as she pulled her hand in close and cradled it next to her side.

Her dress was torn up to her hip on the other side as well now, and she was missing one of her shoes. Her face was still covered in her now grime laden mask which she wrenched off in favor of the substance not burning her eyes any longer.

That’s when she saw her timepiece and Chat’s torn off cuff sitting next to her on the ground.

Suddenly, she became very aware that her arms were bare, and her legs no longer had their microfilament coverings.

Oh, shit—

“Tikki!” She coughed as her shout rocked her frame into another fit.

She still looked around, trying to see in the gloom of the fog. She heard a small buzzing next to her and flew into action.

She crawled her way over, looking under a small ledge created by a jutting plank of wood.

Sure enough, one small illuminated eye peaked out at her and Marinette’s heart skipped a beat. “Tikki, thank god.”

The little Kwami crawled her way out of the rubble and into Marinette’s waiting hand. Marinette could see that Tikki had taken most of the damage from the fall.

Her left antenna was bent at a terrible angle, and the glass of her right eye was shattered, making the image of her pupil distort and crackle across it as she looked around.

She also was cradling her left arm to herself and it made Marinette’s blood run with an icy fire.

“Oh, my god, Tikki,” she nearly sobbed as her little friend nervously fussed over her antenna.

She was quick to flutter her hands and look up at her chosen. “No! No, Mari, I’m okay. I’m just glad you’re awake. You were out for so long I was worried the pollution had put you in a coma or something!”

The chipper yet concerned tone of TIkki’s voice only made Marinette choke on a sob as she looked down at her little friend.

They had been through so much together and yet Tikki was still willing to dismiss her own injuries in favor of Marinette’s safety like it wasn’t even a question.

A hard lump formed in her throat as she rubbed her eyes and looked around them, trying to see anything in the dismal area.

The cloud that surrounded her was too thick to see through, even the spire only twenty feet away being a feet to spot.

Tikki clicked and whirred in Marinette’s hand and it drew her attention down to the little Kwami. “What is it?”

Tikki’s eyes stared straight forward as Marinette heard another motor in her head kick on. “I…I can sense something. I think I know where we can go for some help.”

“Is there another Miraculous down here?” Marinette asked as she experimentally tried standing on her legs.

Her knees threatened to buckle but she willed herself to stay up as she retrieved her timepiece and Chat’s cuff, stuffing them into the chest of her dress as she started picking her way down out of the rubble.

Tikki shook her head. “Not quite. But, after the war, I was owned by a holder who lived down here. I know where we can find their old home. We should be safe there.”

Marinette quirked an eyebrow as her feet found the decidedly more stable remnants of what looked like a road. “How do you know it’s still going to be there?’

Tikki shrugged, the small movement pulling a wince from the animatronic. “It was there before; it should still be there now.”

Marinette looked around her surroundings, finding nothing of use and the only standing structure being the church.

Her body ached and her throat burned for a drink of water, or of anything that would quench the fire that burned her lungs.

She had no idea where she was and nothing to lose at this point. Even if it was a red herring, she could at least get a feel for her surroundings.

“Okay, Tikki,” she said, perching her Kwami on her shoulder as she bent to tie her dress up around her legs in a makeshift skirt, “tell me where to go.”

Her friend sparked, shooting pain down Marinette’s neck as a small cough rattled the machine. “S-sorry, Mari. Um, start off that way.”

Tikki raised a small paw in the direction the road seemed to curve away towards.

Marinette had a sour taste in her mouth as she started down the path, and she had a feeling it didn’t have to do with the air.

She limped as she went, at one point ditching her other heel and instead carefully walking along on her bare feet. She followed Tikki’s instructions as she walked, having to stop occasionally to rest her leg and to keep herself from staggering too badly. Tikki, all the while whispering encouragements and saying they were getting closer.

“How far do we have to go?” Marinette asked after a while, resting her back against a still-intact building as she breathed as shallowly as she could.

Her feet were aching now, the bottoms being torn up by broken pieces of towns. They’d passed at least two different sections of the decrepit city they were wandering through, getting seemingly lost in the maze of old rubble.

She tried looking up to gauge their distance by the sun but found that through the haze she couldn’t see anything. It hadn’t seemed to get any lighter or darker out either. She had the fleeting feeling that time, down here, was a distant concept, long-forgotten like sunlight.

“It should only be a little farther,” Tikki tried to reassure, but there was an uncertainty to her voice that made Marinette’s nerves fray that the ends.

She laughed bitterly and massaged her right leg. “How long have I been walking?”

Tikki opened her mouth to respond but was cut short by a loud whoop coming from off to their left, around the corner of the building.

The pair froze, looking towards where the noise before hearing the distinct sound of footsteps approaching.

Thinking fast, Marinette dodged into the building at her back and pressed into the brick next to the doorframe, her heart hammering in her ears as she heard multiple footsteps now coming her way.

The stopped just before where she had been moments before, and her blood ran cold as voices spoke out in a language she didn’t understand.

One thing was for sure, they’d been looking for her and she had the distinct feeling she didn’t want to find out why.

She waited on bated breath for their chatter to die down and for them to thankfully take off in a different direction.

Marinette didn’t dare move until several more minutes had passed since their receding footsteps had been lost to her.

Finally, she peeked around the doorframe and was greeted to the sight of the empty street and sooty air.

She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding in and crept out, looking back to where they had gone and thanking her luck once again that they had gone in the other direction.

She had heard stories of people on the surface being savages outside the small villages that had been established. Distant memories of her parents’ warnings of bandits and murderers before her trip to the surface came bubbling back up to her mind.

Her pulse quickened as she thought about the strange language she’d heard them speaking, comparing it to the broken French the people she had met before we're able to manage. These people weren’t from any village and she had a feeling she didn’t want to be noticed by them anytime soon.

Her heart hammered painfully as she turned her back on them. If she could just stay silent, they should be in the clear.

“Marinette—”

Tikki was silenced with a finger pressed to her metal lips as Marinette frantically took off down the road again, this time ignoring the pain in her leg as she ran to try and put some distance between her and those people.

She ran for as long as her leg and lungs would let her, but sooner than she would have preferred she had to slow her pace to catch her breath.

She looked over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t followed before looking back to Tikki’s concerned expression.

“Tikki, we can’t let ourselves get seen by those people,” she explained as she followed her Kwami’s pointing paw down another street. “People down here will do anything to survive, and I don’t think that even Ladybug could take on a band of scavengers.”

“That’s the thing,” Tikki said with a pained look, “I don’t think I’ll be able to manage more than one more transformation.”

Marinette froze, ice running through her veins. “Please, tell me you’re joking.”

The sorrowful look from her Kwami was answer enough. She groaned in frustration and took off down the street again, the ice in her blood boiling into something hotter, something scorching.

“This is all that bastard’s fault,” she barked out as she took another corner and started climbing over a pile of rubble. “If I had just let Alya turn him in when I had the chance, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Marinette, I don’t think that this is Chat’s—”

“Why isn’t it?” Marinette hissed as she slid down the other side of the mound, her hands scraping along the surface of a large concrete slab. “Chat Noir threw me off the side of the fucking world, Tikki! How is this not his fault?”

“I don’t think it was his fault!” Tikki quipped back, the volume making her voice crack as she coughed and lowered her voice. “You don’t know if he was being controlled by Hawkmoth or not.”

Marinette huffed, trudging along as her shoulders went taught with rage. “He wasn’t akumatized. People look different when they’re transformed, and Chat looked like nasty old Chat. He did it just to get revenge for the kiss. Which, really? I get that it hurt and was confusing but trying to murder me? How the hell is that justified?!”

Tikki shushed her as they rounded another corner and came upon a small village, one that looked strangely familiar to Marinette.

The buildings around had been tacked together with cloth walls and plank doors. The soft noises coming from within each confirmed people did live here, but no one came out or approached as she cautiously walked between them.

“I don’t think he was in his right mind. I mean, remember when Lila became Chameleon and she still looked the same until she changed form?” Tikki tried as they made their way through the mostly intact buildings.

A memory itched at the back of Marinette’s skull as she looked around at the lit-up windows.
“I mean I guess, but he’s hated me for years. It’s not like he could stay akumatized for years,” she quipped with an exasperated groan. “And to think it was Adrien under that mask this whole time too. Adrien! I fell in love with the guy that tried to kill me. Twice!”

She felt more than saw Tikki shake her head as they came to the end of the road and started down a well-worn path. “I think we’re missing something here, Mari. We know that Hawkmoth was trying to get him to capture you, probably for your Miraculous. There’s no way Adrien would do that willingly unless he was under some sort of control.”

Marinette sighed then, her anger starting to leave her as Tikki’s words rang through her head. “I still don’t like it, Tikki. I mean, I’ve seen people fight off akumas before. Hell, Chloe did. So why didn’t Adrien if he knew it would lead him to do something like this?”

Tikki pursed her lips, letting the question hang between them as she seemed to think it through.

“Maybe he didn’t have the chance?” she offered after a moment.

Marinette opened her mouth to retort but was cut short at the sight of the building rising before them. The memory that had been slowly crawling back into her mind coming to the front of her vision as she looked at the grime-covered windows and the empty boxes on the sills.

She was struck by the sight of the building she hadn’t seen since her childhood. The very one she had wandered into before with a gas mask on and a basket of baked goods under one arm. The buttery smell of her pastries had mixed with the sweetness of the flowers and she’d been greeted by an elderly man from the back.

Now, the building stood silent and dark on the inside, no sign of a living thing inside or out.

She looked down at Tikki, the little Kwami smiling warmly at the old flower shop. “You know this place?”

Tikki nodded, a nostalgic look on her face. “it’s a long story, let's get inside and I’ll tell you.”

Marinette swallowed down her curiosity, instead walking up to the door and trying the handle. To her surprise, it gave under her touch and the door swung open.

She quickly retreated into the building and closed the door behind her, locking it before turning around to the surrounding floor.

Where tall flowers and small shrubs had once stood now laid empty and rotting boxes filled with dirt and dust.

The air still smelled better than outside, but as Marinette walked along the tiles, she noticed the building was missing its former warmth and glow. The air was filled with a damp hollowness that made her heart ache for the old man that once lived here.

“It’s in the back,” Tikki said after a minute, pointing to the sliding door that partitioned the building. “You should find what we are looking for on the bench back there.”

“How do you know about all this?” Marinette’s wonderment easily heard as she headed back to the door.

Tikki smiled, looking lost in a memory. “Do you remember much about the old man who gave you those seeds?”

Marinette paused, the cold of the door sinking into her palm before she pushed it to the side with a shake of her head. Her memories were foggy at best when it came to the surface. The only thing she had a sure recollection of was the flower seeds and the smell in the air. Everything else was like an old film that had been run too many times.

“No, why?”

She made her way to the back and spied what looked to be an old stereo sitting on the workbench to her right.

She stepped around the abandoned crates and tools along the floor and sat down before the strange square machine. “What happened to him?’

Tikki slowly climbed down Marinette’s arm until she came to rest on the desk as the young woman pulled the new device towards herself. “That was Master Fu!”

Marinette froze, her eyes dodging to Tikki as the Kwami smiled brightly up to her chosen. That can’t be true.

“But, Master Fu—”

“He lived down here before he met you,” Tikki interrupted, answering the question Marinette had yet to pose. “You know how he lost the Peacock and Butterfly Miraculous? Well, he stayed down here to try and find them, even after the war. When he moved to the Platt, he had the intention of finding the next Guardian and training them, but before that he found you!”

Marinette’s mouth gaped as her hands lowered from the wooden casing before her. “M-Me?”

Tikki nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! He gave you those seeds as a test. He knew the next Guardian needed to be patient, resourceful, smart, and willing to put in the time and effort to cultivate something important! When you turned it into a business, he only found that to be another sign of her ingenuity.

“That’s why when Hawkmoth showed up, he didn’t hesitate in giving you your Miraculous! He knew there was something special about you, Marinette, and he was so right to think so. You always have an answer to everything, and I don’t doubt that even getting us out of here is going to be a piece of cake for you.”

Marinette sat stunned, letting that digest for a little. Her eyes looked around the abandoned building, the walls with their chipping and peeling paint making her spine crawl with the thought of her kind teacher living here so long ago.

“That’s…wow,” she breathed softly, looking back down at the device in front of her. She took a moment to shake her head, deciding she could let it all fully sink in later once she had them out of this mess. “Um, so why are we here? What is this thing?”

Tikki smiled, moving over to lay her paw on the side of the wooden object. “It’s a radio. You can use it to get into contact with the Platt. We can maybe get someone to come down and get us.”

Marinette looked back at the box in her lap, then to her surroundings. She saw screwdrivers, plyers, scissors, tweezers…everything she would need to get this thing working again as her mind tried to remember the Radio Functionality 101 class she’d taken in secondary school.

“Okay…okay, I think I can do this,” she murmured to herself as she bent to start collecting and brushing off the tools she needed.

She heard Tikki squeak out a small cheer as she worked, and it brought a smile to her face.

She was going to do it.

She was going to get them home.


Adrien had never felt more at home on the Platt than he had sitting amongst the flowers in each of Marinette’s new sets. That’s why he loved going to the storage warehouse and why most nights he’d choose to sleep there over his apartment.

The smell always helped to clear his mind, and he always felt more grounded when he was surrounded by their beautiful colors. Ever since he’d heard they were her creation too, it brought him an undeniable sense of joy and pride for his best friend.

When Ladybug had shown up to the first of many fights they’d have after secondary school with petals in her hair, it wasn’t hard for him to realize just how amazing his friend really was.

The flowers from then on out brought a whole new feeling to him. Being surrounded by the living things that she had grown from seeds and so lovingly tended to made his heart fill with such joy and tenderness. Every time he’d see her in battle, he’d always catch himself smiling at the thought of her up to her elbows in dirt and speaking softly to her petalled creations early in the morning.

The girl who was responsible for his joy throughout the tough years of modeling in secondary school just so happened to be the girl he loved so deeply it hurt and Adrien couldn’t be happier.

But now, sitting nestled away in the flowers, twirling one stem between his gloved fingers as he flipped through her growing journal, he found a different emotion swelling up to encompass his heart, his throat, and to strangle his lungs.

Guilt.

When he was away from his father he could think clearly, and being here, he knew what he had done was a mistake.

The second her yo-yo hadn’t wrapped around the Platt’s water pipes and he’d lost sight of her in the pollution bellow he’d felt his stomach plummet with her.

He remembered the way the anger had fled from him as he’d dropped to his knees, wailing her name from the edge till his voice went hoarse.

She was supposed to make it back up.

She was supposed to be okay.

It was supposed to be a distraction to throw his father off her trail.

Now, he only prayed that she was alive after falling into the hell of the world bellow.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath against the hot lump in the back of his throat that once again threatened to spill out of him in tears.

He didn’t open them again until he heard the door to the other room open, a voice calling out as something hit the floor.

He looked up, his eyes gluing to the curtain to the consultation area as footsteps pounded towards his direction.

Here goes nothing, he thought miserably as he set down Marinette’s journal and dropped his foot off her workbench, sitting forward with his hands on his knees.

He took another deep breath before Alya pushed aside the last defense he had against having to face his mistakes.

She took another step forward with a smile on her face. “Oh, come on girl! I know you’re back here—”

She stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes locked on the young man before her, her smile sliding off to reveal pure terror.

That look wasn’t doing wonders for Adrien’s quivering heart. “Ch-Chat Noir?” Neither was the fear in her voice.

He looked up at her, tears stinging his eyes, but he willed them back as he nodded, not trusting his own voice.

Alya’s eyes scanned him in his typical uniform before her head snapped around the room. “What—where’s Marinette?”

Adrien almost cringed at the venom in her tone, but he kept a level head as he knitted his fingers together in front of him. “Alya—”

“What did you do to her?!” The brunette nearly screamed as she started to back away, her arms coming up in a defensive position.

Panic rose in Adrien’s chest. “I need—”

“Where is she?!” She demanded, taking another step back and Adrien became acutely aware of just how close she was teetering on running away. “What did you do to her you monster?”

He cringed as she spat out “monster”. When he looked up at her again, he saw the pure hatred in her eyes and he honestly couldn’t find it in himself to blame her.

No one could beat him up more than he already had.

“That’s why I’m here,” he let out, his voice on the verge of tumbling into a plea. “I need your help.”

Alya’s head started in a slow shake, growing in pace as her fists clenched tight in front of her. “No, no! You’ve done it this time! I’m going to make sure they lock your ass up for the rest of your life!”

She was turning, going to leave, and Adrien knew he only had one option left. The one he’d known he’d eventually have to call upon.

“Plagg, claws in!” He called as he quickly rose to his feet.

Alya froze as the sound of his transformation shedding reached her ears. The sharp slithering of wires along his person and the smell of steamed gasses filling her nose the same way it did for Adrien.

She turned slowly, just in time to see him shed his goggles and reveal the teary eyes that peered back at her.

Her breath caught in her throat as Adrien held his goggles in front of him, pleading with every ounce in his body for her not to go.

“Please,” he nearly sobbed as his hands shook around his lens. “Help me get Mari back.”

Notes:

Uh *nervous laughter* hey guys, it's uh, been a while!
*sighs* yeah I missed this fic, but finally, my writer's block lifted from it and I was able to trudge my way through this chapter little by little and get myself out of the rut. I hope you guys like it and I'm so so sorry it took so long to come out.
I had some life stuff to deal with before I could come back to writing but now I'm back and happy to be updating!

Chapter 8: Sweet Salvation

Summary:

Marinette finds a way to communicate with the surface, but will it be her salvation? Or her doom?

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

For once Marinette was glad she’d fallen asleep on her project, otherwise, she might not have woken up in time.

The high pitched tone coming from her makeshift translator pierced through her dream of falling, saving her right before she crashed into the dark ground below. Instead, she ended up falling out of her chair and effectively pulling her face off the finger dial.

She groaned, hearing Tikki somewhere in the back still rummaging around for parts. “Morning, Marinette!”

Marinette rubbed her head and sat back at the desk as she tried tuning the dial again. “Is it really morning?”

“I have no idea,” her Kwami admitted as she dragged over a small cloth covered in parts, “I did find some stuff to help repair me though!”

“That’s good, Tikki,” Marinette chimed distractedly as she tried again tapping out some signal that hopefully would get caught by the other side.

She’d been trying for hours, ever since she’d been able to get the receiver to pick up faint radio waves from the Platt she’d been trying to tune to any network she could.

Alya’s office had picked up on her first time trying, but the signal wasn’t strong enough to pick up anything besides muffled sounds and the radio static when the person hung up. She’d cursed the shotty wiring and tried for an hour after to rewire it for normal radio communication.

She tried longer-range stations like the police or the mayor’s office who had to be in contact with other Platts, but still got nothing from them or just got sent to receiving machines.

Now, she’d resorted to tapping out morse code to the one station she hoped would pick up. The only other person on the Platt that had a powerful enough long-range scanner was Nino, and he rarely was away from his blimp for more than a few hours.

Still, there hadn’t been anything for what felt like a day now.

Marinette decided to take a break, offering to help Tikki reattach a new antenna and replace the screen to her eye.

Just as she was popping the lens into place she heard something come over the radio, a faint voice but it was so familiar her heart leaped in her chest.

She scrambled to tune to it, grabbing the mic she’d fastened from the old speakers and some intercom wiring, calling out as she tried to get a better feel for the signal.

“Hello?” came Nino’s voice from the other side and Marinette choked back a sob. “Marinette, is that you?”

“Yes, yes! Nino, it’s me!”

“Oh, thank god,” the young man breathed static as there was rustling. “Where are you? Are you injured?”

“Nino, I’m on the surface. I’m banged up pretty bad,” she admitted, looking back at Tikki as her poor friend tried to work on her hurt shoulder. “I need help. Can anyone come down to get me?”

“Nothing can make it down there past the soot. It’ll clog up the engines and we’ll fall. Can you make it to the top of that mountain?”

Mountain? She hadn’t seen any mountain on her way through the city.

“Nino, there aren’t any mountains down here,” she pointed out. “Can you see where I am?”

“Hold on, let me try something.”

There was a pause. She heard shuffling around as she and Tikki locked eyes, a silent prayer passing between the two that Nino wasn’t crazy or floating kilometers away from them.

“It looks like you’re in the old district of Surface Paris,” came his scratchy voice after a moment. “The mountain is a pile of rubble around the original Eiffel tower. Can you make it there?”

She looked down at Tikki. “If he gives us coordinates can you get us there?”

Tikki pauses, a tick and whirring sound coming from her before she looked back up with a lopsided smile. “Yeah, I think I can at least get us close enough to see where it is.”

Marinette nodded, turning back to the radio. “Give us the coordinates and we can make our way there.”

“Gotcha.”

There's a moment before he rattles off the numbers and it’s just long enough for Marinette to wonder how it is that Nino knew it was her as he’d picked up the radio.

“Thanks,” she set the piece of paper down next to Tikki and turned back to the microphone. “Nino, how did you know it was me?”

“I don’t have time to explain,” the sudden frantic speed of his words dropped a cold stone in Marinette’s stomach. “We can talk about it when we get you back safe. Things are crazy up here.”

Marinette’s palms were clammy as she smashed the talk button. “What things? What are you talking about?”

“We can talk later. I have to go.”

The signal didn’t cut right away and she heard what sounded like buckling metal and shouting coming from the other side.

In the dimly lit stillness of the room she felt oddly detached, the shouts of her friends echoing off the walls around her. She’d only been gone for a day right? How badly could things have gone in a day without Ladybug?

Then she remembered how badly things had been going while Tikki was being repaired, and if Chat was fully working with Hawkmoth now, there wasn’t anyone keeping the Akuma’s under control.

She cursed the cat again as she slammed down the mic. Next to her, Tikki jumped at the sound but wasn’t too surprised by the outburst. Her young charge had been through a lot this past while and with very little food and water, her nerves were fraying.

Marinette sighed, doing her best to calm her nerves before standing. “Where are you going?”

“To check the road,” the young woman told her companion. “If we have to go far I’d rather not hit any bandit camps along the way.”

Tikki busied herself with scanning for the coordinates as Marinette checked the decrepit storefront. None of the other inhabitants of the makeshift city had come this far off their little road, so she wasn’t surprised to see nothing had moved since she fell asleep.

The soot still lingered thickly, even in the shop and it made her cough. The ghostly shroud did little to calm her nerves looking out towards the street. It left a sour taste in her mouth and she hated the thought of having to brave it once more.

Once more is all we’ll need, she reminded herself as she swept back to her safe room.

Tikki either looked excited or constipated and Marinette knew it couldn’t be the second as she scooped up her little friend. “Okay, I have good news and bad news.”

“What’s the bad news?”

“Well, the good news is,” the little kwami started, ignoring Marinette’s question, “we are only about seven kilometers away.”

Seven kilometers.

On a normal day, she could run that distance in about an hour. But with a bum leg and the poisonous air outside she doubted she’d be able to make it in under two.

She didn’t want to be outside for more than a few minutes, let alone two hours. Her stomach turned at the idea and she unconsciously coughed again, her lungs already burning.

“What’s the bad news?” Dread crawled up her spine with cold claws as she watched her kwami do her best to chew on her metallic lip.

“If things are still the same as they were when Masture Fu was here, then we might have to go through some bandit camps.”

Some bandit camps?” Marinette hissed, cautiously opening the door and taking off in the direction Tikki pointed.

The small kwami grimaced, her replacement antenna bending back. “Four bandit camps.”

“Tikki, I can’t run. How are we supposed to make it through one camp, let alone four?”

The road opened up in front of them, the buildings on either side having toppled into dusty mounds long ago. Marinette took as deep a breath as she dared, trying her best to calm her jumping muscles.

This was bad, this was really bad.

“You can always transform into Ladybug,” Tikki pointed out, her voice wavering at the suggestion.

Marinette glanced at her little friend. Despite the chipper beat of her voice, she could tell the kwami was just as worried about transforming as she was. She was badly damaged in the fall and if she only had one more transformation Marinette feared what toll it would take on the mechanical girl.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marinette admitted, her feet scraping over old rubble as they turned another road.

Tikki shook her head, looking more determined than Marinette had ever seen her. “It’ll be a last resort, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get you out of here safe.”

“But, Tikki—”

“But nothing,” Tikki barked, her little hands balling into fists. “I said I would protect you and I’m a ladybug of my word. We’ll make it out of here.”

A hot ball formed in the back of her throat, but Marinette refused to let tears fall as she climbed a downed wooden beam.

Words couldn’t describe the amount of love she held for her little friend, especially now. She didn't know how she’d have made it this far into this hell without Tikki, and the thought of going any further without her made Marinette sick.

“Thank you, Tikki.”

The kwami nodded gravely, directing her down another road.

Marinette made a decision right then and there. As her feet trudged through soot and her lungs burned from the smog she knew exactly what she was going to do.

She was going to kill Hawkmoth.

And if she ever saw Chat Noir again, she’d give him a necklace of bruises to match hers.

He could mess with her all he wanted. He could even kill her, she’d die in service of the Platt if need be.

But, no one came between her and Tikki. Not then, not ever.


Skirting the first three encampments wasn’t as hard as Marinette would have thought. They were small tent villages made of strewn together cloth. The smell of fires and something hefty cooking were pretty good indicators to stay away.

It took an extra hour out of her time, having to navigate extra roads and at one point having to find a way across the tops of two buildings but they’d made it without alerting the occupants of the grungy villages.

The last one wasn’t going to be as easily thwarted.

The giant “mountain” Nino had been talking about wasn’t a mountain at all. It was a conglomerated pile of trash and rubble that had been stacked around the older Eiffel tower. Marinette even doubted if the old metal structure underneath was intact, but seeing the top pierce the soot above gave her hope that maybe this would work.

The hundreds of smaller tents haphazardly spaced around the base of the mountain tore her hopes down in an instance.

What bandits had been smart enough to come to the mountain now camped around the base, some of them climbing their way up the rubble to what Marinette guessed was a fresh breath of air. There were cobbled together torches around burning more carbon than need be into the air and it set her nerves on fire.

She’d relied on the dark to hide her from the other camps’ eyes, but this one was lit all around, and the only foreseeable way up the mountain had more torches dotting the path.

She slumped back against the brick wall, the empty building around her providing some solace as she tried to come up with a plan.

They’d tried their best to hike around the mountain to the back, but the bridges had long since fallen into the dried river beds and there was no way she’d trust herself to climb down the steep walls to the sludge-filled darkness below.

She’d found the abandoned parlor outside of the camp, but the lights from the torches reached the outside walls, and now fear pricked her core each time she heard movement.

Marinette always wanted to be the most positive person she could. She always tried to be that ray of light in the dark, but looking down at Tikki she was having a hard time coming up with anything positive.

By the look in her Kwami’s eyes, she knew Tikki’s mind was following the same path as hers.

“Marinette—”

“We can find a way around this.”

“No, we can’t.”

“There’s always a way around things.”

“Marinette—”

“No, Tikki,” Marinette choked, tears freely falling from her eyes. “I can’t do this without you. I won’t lose you too.”

Tikki sighed, crawling her way to Marinette’s chest, her tiny arms doing the best they could to hold her charge. “I know, Marinette. I know.”

Marinette closed her eyes against the tears, her knees coming up to cradle Tikki closer to her chest. Her frame shook with the misery she’d tried to ignore since her dance with Chat.

Everything came tumbling down on her and she couldn’t hold it back anymore.

They’d been partners for so long, and yeah, they’d fought but it had never amounted to anything. As much as she’d never tried to hurt the cat Chat had been doing his part to protect her as well, all these years.

Then he’d thrown her off the Platt like she was nothing like all those years meant nothing to him. Her heart ached as she tried to breathe but only hiccups came. She tried to block out the image of him standing there, the pain and anger on his face making her empty stomach turn.

She’d kissed him as revenge, but was this a fair punishment? Was possibly losing Tikki a just sentence?

No, of course it wasn’t.

But then again, her life had rarely cared about what was fair or not.

If her life had been centered around what was fair or not she wouldn’t have become Ladybug in the first place. Hawkmoth wouldn’t have his miraculous and none of this would have ever happened.

She would never have been a hero.

She would have never met Chat.

She’d never have met Tikki.

It took a while, but eventually she got her breathing down to hitching gasps, then to as deep of breaths she could take in the acrid air.

Tikki looked up at her sweetly, but even the Kwami’s glass eyes betrayed the infinite sadness rooted in her.

“This isn’t a goodbye,” Marinette pressed, her voice shaking with the last of her crying. “I’m going to make sure this isn’t a goodbye.”

Tikki nodded, her hand patting Marinette’s collarbone. “It’s more of an, ‘I’ll see you on the other side’, right?”

Marinette didn’t want to mention how Tikki’s words made her want to curl up and cry more, but she nodded against the dread creeping into her.

She had to do this, and she had to make it to the other side without hurting her transformation. For not only her sake but for Tikki’s too.

She stood on shaky legs, her hand numbly fumbling for her timepiece. Tikki looked sadly at the watch, her eyes lingering before they locked with Marinette’s.

They were ready.

The transformation was anything but comfortable. The fibers over her legs hissed and stung as they wound their way down, and the brace on her shoulder felt oddly heavier than normal.

Just like that, Marinette was alone in the dank cold of the surface.

She choked back a sob and grabbed her watch, scanning the surroundings before taking one last breath.

She had to do this. She had no other choice now.

With a whispered prayer she plunged into the camp soundlessly.

No one noticed her at first and she had to wonder if the place was abandoned. She picked her way around the tents and the different rank smelling bags strewn about the ground. Her eyes fluttered from movement to movement, dodging behind tents whenever she thought she saw someone.

She passed one bonfire that had a hanging slab of meat from a pike over it. Her stomach growled at the smell but it quickly turned to nausea when she wondered where the meat had come from. It was all the motivation she needed to keep pushing forward.

Hope bloomed in her chest, a small ember brought to life as she closed in on the base of the mountain.

She dared to look back, spotting a small group of people coming to check the fire she had passed. She froze, hoping none of them would notice her. There weren’t any tents close enough to dodge behind without being too obvious.

So she froze and she prayed.

A shout went up, the surface language still foreign to her ears but the tone piercingly obvious.

She’s been spotted.

The ember of hope was snuffed out as she struggled to get her legs moving, charging her way past the last tents and scrambling up the bumpy mountain.

She didn’t need to look back to know people were following her. Rocks soared past her shoulders and she heard footsteps—much more practiced on the treacherous terrain than her own—gaining on her.

She turned at one point, throwing her watch madly and hitting a dirt-covered man in the face. He stumbled back, knocking over a few others on his way, but it only made a harsh cry go up in the small party that was hunting her.

They were all pale beings, their faces lost under layers of soot. Ragged clothes made of poorly sewn together cloth hung on their boney frames. If the circumstances had been any different Marinette would feel sorry for them. But as another rock sailed towards her head all sorrow for these people was quickly whisked away.

Her pulse hammered in her throat and she had no choice. She swung the timepiece out, hoping to snag on some rubble above her. It worked and she pulled herself up, the braces on her hands and shoulders protesting loudly and doing little to dampen the jarring.

As she pulled herself up the slope she noticed with horror the other party who had been scaling before were charging down the mountain to meet her. Her stomach dropped as they approached and she prayed she could snag something else higher up.

Her watch disappeared above the soot, snagging on something she couldn’t see and her heart stopped. This was her chance.

She didn’t dare pull herself straight up again, too afraid to ruin Tikki’s shoulders and possibly her own. Instead, she used the line of her yo-yo timepiece to pull her along as she charged her way up, her ankle protesting the entire way.

She bounced up the rocky slope like a mountain goat, her feet skidding across the concrete and bricks faster than she should have been able to go. Her dress snagged on something at one point, but she was moving too fast and it tore away, leaving a large hagrid gash along the bottom of the fabric.

She zipped past the hunting party, not looking back as she sprinted with the last energy she had towards what she hoped was clear air.

Bursting through the soot was like walking through to a different world. She kept going, but running above the thick blanket of air revealed it was late afternoon, the setting sun shining onto the rubbly surface she scrambled up.

The light made her eyes burn and she didn’t bother trying to stop the tears it brought. She didn’t think she’d ever see a more beautiful sunset.

The only thing that made it better was the sight of Nino’s blimp a kilometer or so away.

She wanted to shout but she was overtaken by a coughing fit, the fresh air screaming down her throat and into her lungs as it tried to purge the poisonous fumes from her body. She dropped to her knees as hacking shakes overtook her body. Her head swam and felt too light in the clear thin air.

Was she just moving soot with her breath, or was her breath coming out black? She couldn’t tell through her watery vision.

She almost fell down the incline, sliding back just a bit before she got back to her wobbly knees. The people below her were still shouting and it brought back the urgency to climb higher.

She finally reached the end of her yo-yo, drawing in the device and strapping it back to her side as she fumbled weakly to get higher.

She saw what must be the peak ahead, what looked like a jagged piece of metal piercing the sky; a testament to her reaching her destination.

The closer she got the more she could see and with a tearful smile, she realized it was the top of the tower, still standing tall and strong in the gloom.

Her hands found the old material, climbing the familiar rungs like this was the tower from the Platt. She internally thanked the engineers for making such a good replica. It helped her reach the point in no time, and looking down at the surface dwellers circling the spire, she realized they couldn’t follow.

She sobbed then, her chest aching with the joy and the sorrow of the moment. She’d made it. She was going to be okay.

She just hoped Nino wouldn’t be too long as her arms started to tremble with exhaustion

How long she could hold on, she didn’t know.

A loud siren sounded from her right causing a scrambling ripple to go through the surface hunters below her. They scuttled away from Marinette as she turned to see Nino’s blimp coming closer by the second, a rope ladder flapping in the propellers’ wind.

Her hands shook as they caught the material. She tried to climb her way up into the main compartment but nearly lost her grip. The best she could manage was twining her arms around the rungs and hoping it wouldn’t be too long before she could board.

Thankfully, Nino must have thought of that. With a jolt, the rope started ascending towards the hold all on its own. Marinette let out a joyful cry, tears staining her vision as she saw her familiar friends’ concerned faces above her.

Alya was there, Nino running around in the background in his frantic worrying.

God, she loved these two.

As she was hoisted up into the hold she couldn’t keep herself upright, her head so light from the fresh air and hunger.

People were asking her questions but she couldn’t seem to get her tongue working. Her vision blurred and she stumbled as the craft started ascending.

Alya caught her, saying something to Nino that sounded strangely foreign to Marinette.

Alya took one of her arms, looping it around her shoulders as the raven-haired girl nearly fainted on the spot. Pressing into the warmth of Alya, Marinette realized she was shaking profusely, her hurt leg giving out from under her as Alya tried to get her to walk.

Strong arms caught around her waist and hoisted her up, holding her close to a warm and pounding chest. Vaguely an alarm went off in her head that she was still transformed and that everyone would know she’s Ladybug, but she didn’t even have the energy or coordination to drop the transformation.

Her head felt heavy as she was carried through the ship, Alya walking alongside the person carrying Marinette. She never let go of her friend’s hand and as Marinette fell into another coughing fit she stayed close, cooing softly that everything was going to be okay.

Soft cotton touched her fingertips first before the weight of her thighs and back pressed into a cushioned surface. Her vision was too blurred to see anything as her eyes watered against the soot still in them. Or was she crying? The pain in her chest and the hot lump in her throat suggested the second option.

As a warm cloth wiped the tarnish from her face she didn’t bother fighting the exhaustion that took root in her bones.

Her eyes slid shut to the blurry image of Alya and a retreating blond head as she was taken by sleep into a restless black.

Notes:

Ey yo, what up? It's your resident piece of shit author who keeps yall waiting a year for an update lmao

For real I started writing this like three months ago, had to temporarily move back in with my ex cause of corona (please don't ask) and then had to deal with that shit again. I'm safe now and back to my own abode and getting back to 'normal'"

There is definitely more to come because things are just picking up in this story! I'm so grateful for everyone who has stuck around, y'all give me life. Thank you so much.

Hope you liked it!

Chapter 9: Safe and Sound

Summary:

After finally finding safety Marinette is met with some new challenges.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The darkness that encompassed Marinette’s mind was both a beautiful hell and a disgusting pleasure as she shifted under her soft sheets. She wanted nothing more than to sink into the mattress below her, letting her thoughts float away into the inky unconscious. But, voices in the room around here were drawing her attention away from her dreams.

As her senses began slowly waking up with her as she was greeted by a crisp smell, fresh but without a notable name. She licked her lips, trying to pinpoint what it reminded her of, but the rubber tube sitting above her lip gave her a pretty good idea.

Oxygen filled her sinuses as she tested out her lungs, taking deep breaths as her eyes cracked to the soft light streaming between the curtains. Her eyes burned and watered against the crust around them and she had to blink just to clear the fog.

Trying to sit up was her first mistake. Her chest felt like it had been broken open, her ribs replaced with sandpaper that drug across her raw diaphragm. It launched her into a coughing fit that threw her back against her pillows, her frame shaking with the ragged breaths.

Her head pounded as the coughing slowly subsided, her lungs adjusting to the clean stream of air from her oxygen tube. It took a few minutes of shallow breathing, but soon she was able to try and sit up again.

She licked her lips again, her tongue ghosting over her cracked lips without a trace of moisture following. She felt dizzy and lightheaded, but it was nothing compared to the emotions turning her stomach into a tumbling mess.

Anxiety spiked her blood, making her heart race with the slightest efforts as the soreness of her muscles rooted her to her mattress. Dread of what was to come tried its best to kneed her heart, but joy of being alive and safe beat it out, filling her up to the point of bursting.

She choked back a sobbing laugh as she clutched at her chest, arms, legs, anything she could touch. She was still whole, banged up but whole. She was alive and she was safe. She almost couldn’t believe it was real.

She looked around the room, wiping grey tears from her crumbly eyes. She was in a guest room of sorts, red and gold-laden wallpaper warming the arear in the minimal light. Off to the right was a closet and before her was a door leading to what she guessed was the hall.

She could hear a familiar low thrumming sound coming from somewhere outside. It reminded her of the low heartbeat of the Platt’s propellers, and it was all the hint she needed to know that she was safe on Nino’s blimp.

She spied a phone on the cabinet across from her, her timepiece sitting dutifully next to it. The sight of the familiar device gave her comfort while the thought of Tikki not being around brought on an icy sense of dread.

Before she could worry too much the door to the room opened, moving as slowly as it could. Alya appeared on the other side, whispering to someone else as she tried her best to enter silently.

Marinette couldn’t help the watery laughs that came at the sight of her usually loud friend trying to be so quiet. Alya jumped at the sound, turning to the raven-haired woman and beaming at the sight of her awake. Marinette opened her arms wide, too overwhelmed to say anything as the sight of her friend heated the icy dread in her blood.

“Marinette,” Alya breathed, crossing the room in two steps before gladly wrapping her friend in a tight embrace.

The two girls held on like they were each others’ lifeline and Marinette swore she felt some hot tears land on her shoulder as Alya laughed into her neck.

It hadn’t been a dream.

She was here. She was safe. And she wasn’t alone anymore.

As much as she wanted to stay like that, wrapped in Alya’s strong arms with her warmth reassuring every nervous thought, Marinette knew it couldn’t last forever.

After what felt like all too short of a time she pulled back, grinding the palms of her hands into her eyes to try and stop her tears.

“What happened?” Was the first thing out of her mouth. “Where are we? Ho-how did you guys find me?”

Alya laughed as Marinette babbled a few more questions off, smoothing her friend’s tangled hair. “We can talk about that later. Let’s get some food and water in you first. And maybe a shower cause, girl, you stink.”

Marinette couldn’t help but laugh at the statement, it helping to calm her crying as she looked down at her soot-covered arms and legs. She couldn’t smell anything beyond the oxygen, but she was certain she didn’t smell the best.

Alya offered to help her walk, her twisted ankle swollen and tender to her weight. Marinette took her best friend’s shoulder graciously, limping their way out of the room and to the bathroom down the hall.

As they walked through the gold and brass lined corridor Marinette could see why Nino liked living on his blimp so much. It was much more spacious than she had first imagined, red carpet softening their walk as they passed by a furnished observation room with tall windowed walls.

She couldn’t see much of the skyline beyond white fluffy clouds below them and she wondered absently why they hadn’t gone back to port on the Platt.

The faint memory of crunching metal and shouted voices through her makeshift speakers sparked curiosity in her. She pushed it down, knowing there would be time for questions later.

For now, she focused on stripping away her ruined dress and letting the warm water and steam clean her of the surface soot. Her hair was the most annoying part to wash, but as the last of the black water swirled down the drain she felt renewed, refreshed. Her hands and feet were cut up and raw from her trek up the mountain but luckily they weren’t bleeding any more.

When she got done showering she used the foggy mirror to assess the injuries she’d sustained.

Purpling bruises spanned from her ankles to her knees, some spanning higher but the majority staying lower. She had a few dark spots along her arms and a couple of cuts on her back from where some rocks must have caught her in her mad dash.

She was sore and it hurt to move. But, she was alive and she was happy for at least that.

Alya had left her a spare pair of clothes and sliding on the brown overalls and the white button-up made her feel better. She wished the overalls weren’t cut to shorts length but she supposed it would be better for binding her ankle.

Alya was waiting for her in the hallway when she left, helping her walk back to the guest room and putting back on her oxygen tube.

She settled back into her pillows as a soft knock came at the door. She resisted the urge to cry again at the sight of Nino standing there, a small trolly with a steaming bowl and pitcher of water standing resolute behind him.

He cracked a grin at Marinette as Alya opened the curtains, flooding the room with the midday sun.

“Thought you might want a snack,” he chimed, wheeling the cart to the side of Marinette’s bed, “Some bone broth stew, dark rye bread, and electrolyte infused water for our electric hero.”

Alya slapped his arm at the little joke, Marinette’s pulse jumping unconsciously at the thought of her friends knowing her secret.

She swallowed down her fears with the bread, knowing there was no point in denying it anymore. She wasn’t Ladybug right now, nor did she have to pretend that she was.

She knew she could trust Nino and Alya, and that’s why she was more than eager to answer their questions.

“Soooo,” Alya purred as Marinette nearly inhaled her stew, “are you going to tell us exactly how you ended up on the surface?”

Marinette swallowed, images of Chat Noir flashing behind her eyes as her knuckles turned white around her spoon. “I guess I should answer that with an apology first…”

“What, for not telling us about your double life?” Nino joked, “While I do declare it would have been totally awesome to know we were best friends with a superhero, we understand.”

Marinette’s head shot up. “You do?’

“Of course we do,” Alya assured, sitting next to her friend to carefully wrap an arm around her shoulders, “When you let us have our own Miraculouses you warned us not to tell anyone. I can get that you probably had similar rules and wanted to protect us.”

Marinette gave her friends a weak smile, relief flooding her at their acceptance. “Thank you, really.”

“This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook,” Alya teased, poking Marinette’s nose as she tried to eat again, “I want an exclusive interview from Ladybug after all of this is over.”

“Deal,” Marinette said with a laugh, “Okay, well with that out of the way it’ll be easier to explain.”

Nino leaned forward, his hands resting on the end of the bed in anticipation as Alya silently asked her to go on.

Marinette took a deep breath. “So, remember how I was always questioning if Chat Noir and Ladybug were a couple?”

Alya quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah, why?”

“Well we aren’t,” Marinette said flatly. “In fact, he works for Hawkmoth. He’s the one that threw me off the Platt.”

The arm around Marinette’s shoulders tensed as Alya and Nino shared a look. She couldn’t decipher what the couple was saying, but it was obvious a silent conversation was taking place.

“We didn’t know,” Nino finally said, his words sounding measured and slower than normal. “That sucks that that happened.”

Marinette shook her head. “What happened happened. I’m going to make sure he pays for it, but for now, I can’t worry about that.”

The couple shared another look, this one more concerned than the last. Marinette started to wonder what they were keeping from her, but she wasn’t going to pry. She already had enough questions.

“Nino,”—the young man jumped and turned to Marinette—”how did you know it was me calling? And how did you know I was on the surface?”

“Uhh.”

Nino shared a pleading look with Alya who’s quick to save him, “I have an informant who saw the fight between you and Chat. They thought he might have been akumatized and called me with the info. I went to your apartment to tell you but after searching the whole Platt for you I put two and two together.”

Marinette was sure they were hiding something as Alya so smoothly came up with the cover story. “How long was I gone for?”

“You fell the night of Chloe’s party right?” Nino quipped, his eyes ticking as the thought. “It was four days when we found you. We picked you up last night.”

Marinette chose to ignore the fact that he had to ask what night she was thrown off in favor of choking on her stew.

She knew it’d been hard to tell time down in the smog, but she’d never imagined that she’d be gone for four days.

“Four days?” she breathed, her chest tightening at the thought of what Hawkmoth and Chat Noir could do in that time. “What’s happened to the Platt?”

Marinette was starting to get tired of the couple’s shared looks. She sighed and set down her spoon, looking between her friends.

“You guys are hiding something.”

Her friends jumped, Nino, trying his best to look innocent while Alya tried to laugh off the remark. “What are you talking about?”

“What aren’t you guys telling me?” Marinette demanded, switching her hardened gaze between Nino and Alya.

Nino averted his eyes while rubbing his neck, but Alya met her gaze, mulling over her options of lying before finally sighing.

“Okay, okay. We can’t go back to the Platt. Hawkmoth has basically taken over the place without you or Chat Noir around to take care of the akumas.”

Marinette could hear her pulse, loud and thundering in her throat. Hawkmoth had taken over the Platt? Did Chat finally decide to work for his father full-time?

“Chat isn’t fighting the akumas?” She questioned numbly, her hands shaking slightly at the thought of having to take on the father-son duo on her own.

Alya paused, trying to plead with Nino for some support but finding none. “Chat is...missing.”

Had her lungs stopped working or did her heart stop? Marinette wasn’t sure, but the screaming pain in her ribs was enough of an indicator that this was horribly wrong.

Chat was missing?

How? Why? Did Hawkmoth finally decide that his son had gone too far? Did he get angry at Chat for throwing her off the Platt instead of taking her miraculous? Or did he go into hiding after she was gone?

The questions pounded against her skull, falling to the cold pit in her stomach when they went unanswered.

The Platt was heroless and in her current state she couldn’t do anything about it.

She wished Tikki was here, they could try and figure something out.

She missed Tikki.

Tikki.

Oh, god, Tikki.

“Where’s my kwami?” she demanded, her voice wavering against the dread creeping up her throat.

Alya jumped at the question but Nino wasn't caught off guard. “She’s in my workshop being repaired. She was pretty banged up when you finally transformed back.”

“But she’s still alive?” her question raced with her heart rate.

Tikki had to be alive. She couldn’t handle losing her too.

Nino nodded, helping to stave off the panic about to overtake Marinette. “She’s doing better. Her batteries need some extra charging but she should be up and running like normal in a day or two.”

“Can I see her?”

The look on Nino’s face was nothing less than mournful. “We had to power her down to work on her.”

“You turned her off?!” The screech made Marinette go into another coughing fit.

“Not off,” Nino clarified as she got her breathing under control. “We had to put her into sleep mode. She’s basically napping but we can’t turn her back on till she’s fixed. You could technically see her but she won’t be active.”

The thought of seeing Tikki’s unmoving body made Marinette want to throw up her stew. She couldn’t handle that right now, not even if Tikki was just asleep.

“I’ll wait until she’s active,” she said finally, “I don’t want to see her unless she can talk again.”

Nino nodded before something on his wrist beeped at him. He looked down at the little screen before looking up to Alya. “I gotta go.”

She waved him off, moving to sit across from Marinette as the door clicked softly shut behind him. “What was that?”

Alya shrugged, not meeting Marinette’s eyes. “Probably something up on the bridge. He’s the only one piloting this thing so he has to keep an eye on our position.”

Marinette knew she was lying but didn’t press further. If Alya and Nino were hiding something from her she would have to find out some other way.

“Let’s get this ankle wrapped,” Alya chirped after a minute.

Marinette let her friend fuss over her while her mind whirled.

She’d been gone for four days and in that time Chat Noir had gone missing and Hawkmoth had taken over the Platt. Now she was injured and stuck in a constantly moving blimp with her out of commission kwami and no way of getting home. She didn’t have access to Master Fu or her begrudging partner and had no other allies in trying to fix everything.

No big deal, right?

Nope, definitely a big deal.

One of the most important lessons she’d learned from being Ladybug was that she couldn’t control everything in the world all the time. She tried to remember that now but she felt out of control of everything. She didn’t even have control of Alya as her friend sat her up and braided her hair, saying it would help her to get back to her normal self.

What normal self?

She felt lost and confused. She wanted nothing more than to see Tikki and have some semblance of peace but she knew that wasn’t going to happen.

She had to do this on her own and she had to figure things out without her normal back-up.

Alya left her to rest with a sketchbook and a few other novels she’d stolen from her office’s decorative shelves after she was done fussing.

Marinette was caught between wanting to fall back to sleep and pretend that none of her problems existed or racking her mind for a solution.

It left her restless and stuffy. She wanted out of her room. She wanted some fresh air.

Checking the hall for Alya and Nino before taking off, she limped her way down the hall.


The huge blimp had plenty of halls for her to wander around and get lost in. At one point she tried finding her way back to the guest room but ended up in a cargo hold and even more lost. Her ankle protested the longer she walked but she ignored it, reading plaque after plaque on doors as she wished for a familiar room name.

One of them loomed over her as she stopped before it.

Workshop.

Nino had said Tikki was in the workshop being repaired. She didn’t know how many repair shops were on the blimp but something about this room set her nerves on edge.

Marinette’s heart leaped into her throat at the thought of her kwami on the other side of the door; taken apart and motionless on a workbench.

Still, she missed her little friend.

After standing before the door for what felt like an eternity her shaking fingers found the cold handle. She took a deep breath, stealing herself before pushing her way inside. She never would have guessed what waited for her on the other side of the door.

The hard metal of the handle pressed heavily into her palm as blond hair filled her vision.

He was facing away from her, sat at a workstation with his shoulders hunched over a project. She could see his hands moving with small practiced ease as he worked but he perked up as she opened the door. A cold dread dripped into her core as her heart lit with rage at the sight of him turning.

“Did you bring that sauter, Nino—”

Adrien cut himself short as he removed his goggles, eyes landing on her in what could only be described as pure shock.

She knew what he saw and he hoped it hurt him as much as it hurt her. His eyes scanned her raw feet and bruised ankles before trailing up her legs. They lingered on the dark circles under her eyes before a much too soft look claimed his features.

Marinette shook as she looked at him, the last time she’d seen him playing like a movie behind her eyes. Her mind took the man before her and easily supplanted the one that had been standing at the railing, his eyes glistening with hate and tears.

“Marinette,” he breathed, standing as he set down his goggles.

He walked over to her, somehow not noticing the way her body had frozen, her bones locking in place as her muscles coiled around them.

Her blood ran hot, a white heat that blurred her vision.

“Mari—”

He was cut short by her fist connecting with his jaw, sending him stumbling back against the workbench. He caught himself, his hand flying to cradle his face as his eyes blazed up to her. She wasn’t surprised to see anger in them as she virtually vibrated with rage. What she didn’t expect was for his anger to melt away into something softer. Something she couldn’t read.

It made her all the angrier.

She remembered her last conversation with Tikki and how she had vowed to make him pay. Her mind fueled her burning muscles with images of him choking her, of their conversation while they danced, and of his confusing display of affection in the flower hanger.

She didn’t bother waiting for him to speak as she launched herself towards him.

He blocked the first few hits, trying his best to back away as she threw punches and kicks in a relentless hailstorm of aggression, but he wasn’t fast enough. She connected with his stomach, her knee coming up to smash his nose as he bent forward.

He wheeled, his hands cupping his gushing face. “Dammit, Marinette—”

She didn’t stop. She pounced on him, her fingers finding his throat and locking around the soft skin.

A visceral glee filled her as he gasped, his hands clawing at hers as she bitterly tried to give him a necklace of his own. She wanted him to hurt. She wanted him to know the pain he had caused her. She’d been waiting for this.

What she hadn’t anticipated was him being stronger than her.

In her injured state, her grip wasn’t as sure, and as he planted his thumbs into the pressure points on her wrists her fingers slackened. She growled and tried her best to hold on but the best she could do was leave him with scratch marks along his neck as he yanked her hands away.

He moved on her, pressing her back into the work table to keep her from kicking him as he held her hands back behind her, virtually rendering her immobile in under a second.

They both panted, chests bumping as she struggled in his grip. She tried kneeing him but he pressed closer, moving her legs apart with his so she couldn’t get any traction. She realized with a cold shock that he was the only thing keeping her balanced on the wooden surface now, even her struggling throwing her off balance and forcing him to hold her arms tighter.

Adrien cursed above her as his nose continued bleeding, dripping from his chin to his collar. “What is wrong with you?”

A bitter laugh bubbled up her throat, tears pricking her eyes as she pulled against his fingers. “I thought that’s how we greeted each other, Kitty.”

“By trying to kill me?” he barked, reassuring his hands on her wrists and taking a breath.

Marinette scowled. “Well, it’s common practice for you.”

His eyes burned when they met hers, a fire so sharp it made her freeze. They’d been in this position before and she knew that look. Her body was telling her to run, but her mind was telling her to do what she wanted.

It screamed at her to make him hurt.

He sighed, trying his best to keep his blood from dripping onto her. “You and I need to talk.”

Marinette barked a laugh. “You can let me go and I can let my fists do the talking.”

Adrien frowned, his fingers unconsciously tightening on her. She winced and he loosened his grip, his eyes flashing with concern before going back to something she couldn’t decipher.

“I know you’re mad.”

“Fuming.”

“But this isn’t the way to go about this.”

“Who are you to tell me how to be angry?”

He huffed, a harsh sound as his jaw worked. “You know what? You’re right. I can’t tell you how to take out your anger. I’m the last person that gets to have a say in that after everything that’s happened. But if you let me, we can talk things over. If you still want to beat me to death after that I’ll gladly let you. But for now, will you give me a chance to explain?”

She didn’t want to give him a chance. The last thing she wanted was to hear more excuses from him. But in her position, she could do little more than wobble from side to side in his grasp.

She glowered up at him, trying to figure out what he’s thinking. Despite the blood trickling from his nose, his expression was soft and open, his eyes filled with a cocktail of desperation and resolve that made her wonder if he was being serious.

As much as she hated the thought of allowing him to trick her again, she knew she didn’t have many options.

“Please, Marinette.”

Why did the plea make butterflies take flight in her stomach? If she could slap some sense into herself, she would.

“Fine,” she growled, her hands flexing in his grip, “we can talk.”

He stared at her a moment longer, his eyes flicking between hers before his grip finally loosened and he backed away.

Marinette planted her feet back on the ground, rubbing her wrists as Adrien moved to grab a rag from his work station.

When he came back over he sat down on a cot that Marinette noticed for the first time.

In her rage, she hadn’t bothered to look around the room, but now her eyes fell on the last thing she expected to see.

A wooden planter box sat in the corner of the room, right next to the windows with a big light over it. Inside the planter, standing resolute, were three-foot-tall Catmint plants in full bloom. Their slightly minty sent found her nose and her blood boiled hotter as she affixed Adrien with a new glare.

Those weren’t plants he would have found in the hanger.

“What the hell is that?” she snapped, her hand flying to point at the flora.

He glanced at the plants as he tried to stop his bleeding nose. “I’ll get to that in a minute,” he noted, his voice nasally behind the cloth. “First I need to explain why I did what I did.”

“You wanted revenge.”

His eyes shot to her, a silent dare for him to deny it passing between them.

He huffed, relinquishing the point as he leaned his elbows on his knees. “Okay, yes I wanted revenge. But there’s another reason.”

“You’re a terrible person?”

“No, will you just—”

“Or, you finally figured you could get away with—”

“Marinette, listen to me!” he roared.

Her jaw snapped shut at his outburst, a heated glare replacing the insults she was holding back.

He huffed, deflating as the sudden anger left him. “I know what I did was wrong! I know there’s nothing I can say or do that will ever take it back. But you need to understand that I never wanted to hurt you.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Says the guy who choked me.”

“I—” She saw the anger before he could tamp it back down. “I’ve already told you I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t even want to be there. It wasn’t my choice.”

“Wasn’t your choice?” she mocked, not believing a word, “How could it not be your choice?”

“Do you remember smelling the cologne on me the night of Chloe’s party?”

Marinette’s taken off guard by the question, having to think back to the dangerously intoxifying smell. “Yeah, what about it?”

“It’s the same stuff that makes people into akumas,” Adrien explained, pushing as much meaning into his words as he could. “It’s a much more diluted version but it’s the same spray that makes people go crazy.”

Marinette didn’t want to believe him, but the effects it had on her and what she’d seen throughout the years made her pause. “How do you know?”

“My father makes both from your flowers. It’s the reason he keeps them under Agreste manor and burns them after. He doesn’t want to be tied directly to the attacks but he still uses it as an excuse to mass-produce the stuff,” Adrien continued, his hands shaking a little as he wiped the blood from his face.

She can tell it was hard for him to talk about as he was finally able to take the cloth from his face. The hurt in the knit of his brow softened her coiled muscles, her pulse calming with it.

“If you knew it was the same spray,” she prodded, “why were you wearing it?”

The sadness in the look he turned on her chilled the fire in her chest, leaving behind an aching she’d felt for him before. “He made me,” he muttered, a pained rage taking over his features as he thought of his father, “When I received the Chat Noir miraculous he found out almost immediately and started grooming me to fight with him. But when I met you I knew you weren’t the villain he made you out to be. I started investigating his role in everything instead.

“When he found out I knew how he made the spray he started using it against me. He knew I was planning on switching to your side, but he wouldn’t let that happen. Every event I went to from then on out he made me wear that cologne and he would even hit me with some of the actual akuma spray to keep me keen during our fights.”

Memories of their fights starting heated and dangerous and ending in flirtatious jokes came to mind as Marinette listened. All the years of him taking blows for her, all of the lingering glances, all the ghosting touches of reassurances during battles suddenly made sense.

He’d always been protecting her, just not in a way she’d understood.

A knot formed in her stomach at the thought of her hating him all these years.

“Recently he started suspecting I knew who you were,” Adrien continued, ignoring Marinette’s inner war, “He knew I was a trained attack animal when I was exposed to enough spray, so he would get me to the brink of akumatization before sending me out to find you. That’s why—”

He had to swallow before going on. “That’s why you found me in your greenhouse.”

Marinette’s heart stopped, her lungs ceasing to work as well. That’s why he’d come? He’d said he was looking for Ladybug but she never imagined he’d been hopped up on Akuma juice.

Her hand unconsciously went to her throat, ghosting the no longer visible bruises.

Looking back on it now, if he’d been so close to being an Akuma she’d been lucky to get away with only the bruises.

Adrien noticed the movement, groaning mournfully as he let his head fall into his hands “I never wanted to hurt you.” It was a plea, begging her to understand. “I never wanted any of this. I’ve been trying to find something for years now to combat the cologne, but I couldn’t figure it out.

“Every time I’ve come to see you outside of battle since then has been because of him. The best I could do to keep from acting out again was wait in your greenhouse for a while. Your flowers helped to clear my head enough for me to talk to you. That’s why I was so bent on making things right.”

Marinette’s eyes dodged to the Catmint. He’d said before that her flowers helped to clear his head but she’d never imagined he was saving himself from becoming an akuma.

“Is that why you have those?”

Adrien looked up, following her nod to the plants. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

She glanced back at him, noticing for the first time the strain in his arms. He hadn’t relaxed the entire time he talked and she was beginning to suspect her presence wasn’t the reason.

“But, you’re not around him right now. Do you still need the flowers?” she asked, brows knitting together as she tried to process everything.

He nodded mournfully, his gaze soft on the flora. “Unfortunately, after being exposed for so long the cologne’s effects don’t really go away. They lessen with time, but not fast enough for me not to need a buffer.”

“So is Catmint more effective at stopping it? Is there something special about it?” she pressed, the questions pouring from her as her mind worked.

If there was something special about the breed she could try and isolate it. Maybe she could make her own perfume that would combat the akumas in a different way. Maybe this was how they could win with the Platt overrun.

But the wistful smile on Adrien’s lips sunk her ship of hope. “No, they’re just my favorite.”

She deflated and he took note, thinking it was for a different reason.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided looking at her. “I know that none of this excuses what I did. Heck if anything I should have tried harder to get away from him in the first place. But I just want you to know that I am going to do everything in my power to keep you safe from now on. Whether it be from him or me, you’ll be safe. You have my word.”

As much as Marinette had been wanting to rip his throat out she couldn’t be mad at him now. Everything made too much sense for her to be angry with him.

Their partnership played like a movie in her head, starting with their first few battles. Chat had been an ambitious teen, constantly flirting and throwing puns her way. When he’d suddenly switched the script she thought he’d finally grown up and realized how serious things were.

Now it made sense why he’d gone quiet for those battles and why he’d taken off before she could congratulate him on the victory. The slow progression into their arguments, then into actual battles of their own now played in time with what she could have imagined happening in the Agreste Manor.

But along the way, he’d continued to protect her. No matter how terrible she’d been to him, he’d always been there to take the extra blows. He’d always picked her up when she fell and she’d always done her part to help him.

Everything seemed crystal clear, and yet hazy at the same time. She didn’t know where this left them. She didn’t know what this knowledge would do to their partnership.

As Adrien’s hopeful eyes met hers the world seemed to come more into focus.

Scratch that, she knew where they stood.

Her anger towards Chat had been misplaced. Hawkmoth was the one she hated.

She was going to hunt him down and make him pay for what he’d done. Not only to her and Tikki but Adrien as well.

“I forgive you.”

You’d think she’d gifted Adrien the moon in those three words. Raw want and hope swelled in him in a way that made Marinette’s heart thump painfully.

“You do?” he whispered, scared that it might be a lie.

She gave him a soft smile, calming her nerves as she said, “I do. I forgive you.”

He nearly glowed.

A weight seemed to lift from him and she was relieved to see his body finally relax as he slumped on the bed. An airy chuckle escaped his lips as he ran a hand through his hair.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear that,” he murmured, reveling in the moment.

Marinette couldn’t help but grin. “I have an idea,” she teased.

The smile he turned on her was radiant and it set a nice warmth in her core, burning away any trace of doubt. “So does that mean you don’t want to beat me up anymore?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that. “No, I don’t want to beat you up anymore.”

He sighed exaggeratedly, pretending to wipe his brow as a shit-eating grin plastered his face. “Well, that’s a relief cause I think you already broke my nose.”

Marinette laughs, crossing her arms over her chest in mock annoyance. “Well, you deserved it.”

They couldn’t help but laugh at themselves. The joking, the slight flirting, it all felt so natural and so right that Marinette couldn’t help but enjoy the moment.

This is what she’d wanted for years. She’d wanted her free-spirited partner back. She’d wanted them to be a team, to be a packaged deal that worked so well together it wouldn’t make sense for them to be apart.

Maybe now they could have that.

There was a knock on the door frame that drew their attention. Nino stood nervously at the threshold, a spool of sauter wire in his hand.

“I take it that we’ve made up?” he hedged cautiously.

Marinette couldn’t help but smile at him. “You missed the fight.”

“She almost broke my nose,” Adrien tossed out, pointing to the blood on his collar. “Sorry about the shirt.”

Nino waved off the garment, his eyes fixing on Marinette. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you he was here sooner. We didn’t know how you would react.”

“Poorly,” Adrien quipped, wincing playfully as Marinette shot a grinning glare his way.

Nino shuffled nervously from the door, but Marinette gave him a smile. “It’s okay, Nino. We talked things through.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, everything is fine now,” she assured, glancing back to Adrien who gave a thumbs up. “He explained everything. We’re all good.”

Nino let out a breath, laughing with it. “Oh, thank god. Alya was worried about you two finding each other. It’s why we stuck him in the farthest room from yours.”

“That and the flowers,” Adrien added.

“And the flowers,” Nino confirmed. “I guess now we can all get along? I don’t have to keep him hidden?”

Marinette shook her head. “You don’t need to keep him hidden. It’d be hard to talk things through if you did.”

Nino laughed at that, walking to the workbench and setting down the wire. “Well, if you’re okay to be alone I’ll leave you two to continue to work things out. Dinner’s at six so don’t be too long.”

With a final glance Nino took off, Marinette just catching Alya’s voice from around the corner. She smiled at the thought of her friend bringing his girlfriend as backup.

She looked back at Adrien, the two still smiling but a weight fell between them.

There was still a lot to talk about, a lot of trust to be rebuilt.

Despite that, she couldn’t help but savor the moment. She felt as if they had taken a step in the right direction. She hoped they could keep the momentum going.

They were going to need it.

Notes:

Did I write the first version of this chapter in the same night as the last chapter? Yes. Did I get rid of that cause it was just me throwing my internal therapy session on paper? Hell yes. Is this version so much better? Fuck yeah.

Lol seriously tho I am falling back in love with this story and it's showing me why I fell for writing in the first place.

I hope you guys are enjoying it as much as I am!

Chapter 10: Chat Blanc

Summary:

Adrien tries solving his problems on his own, while Marinette won't let her partner do this alone.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The first few days on the craft had been the longest of Marinette’s life. She waited each morning for news from the Platt, only to receive slowly chilling breakfasts and word that the akuma attacks had stopped for now. Apparently, Hawkmoth didn’t want to destroy the place in his mad search for Ladybug and her miraculous, it had always just been a bit of collateral damage.

Adrien had begun opening up to everyone, revealing finally that he didn’t know what his father wanted with Ladybug’s miraculous, or why he thought destroying property and possibly killing people were worthy sacrifices for his cause. In private he would tell Marinette about how his father had trained him to be the attack dog she had come to know him as.

Stories of him being chained in the observatory behind their home, sprayed and shown images from news clippings and film reels of Ladybug made her insides turn. He’d be left there for hours until his stomach had soured with hunger and his mind fogged with grief, the grief pointed at the only thing he could see through the haze. Her.

He recounted one harder morning how he would do the same to himself some nights. If he had enough sense to get away before he could hurt her, he’d lock himself in the hanger, chaining himself to his desk so he couldn’t move. He said it was the only way he’d found to control the rage as he tried to slowly fix what his father was breaking. He tried drinking himself into a stupor on multiple occasions, but it would only result in blind agony that would leave him torn open, heart bleeding onto the floor as his contradicting feelings spilled into the air, screams only for the cold nights to hear.

Marinette would never forget the way his hand shook in hers as he recounted it, his too soft and too damn sad smile still plastered to his face as he cried and tried to reassure her it was fine.

“I didn’t go to you,” he said, his voice drowning in sorrowful pride, “I kept myself away those nights, and that’s what really matters.”

It made her heart shatter, falling to glittering shards when he let her wipe the tears from his face. To think he was going through all of that, all these years, and she blamed him for everything right along with his father. She felt dizzy after their conversations, headlight from the apologies that came pouring from her lips and the pain and anger that sent boiling licks up her throat.

She wanted nothing more than to make Gabriel suffer, and the more she learned, the more she came to realize she had no punishment fitting enough for this man in her arsenal.

She doubted anyone would.

It was five days in when Marinette became worried. Adrien stopped her at the door on the way out of the workshop, his fingers wavering on her wrist.

“I—'m going to need a few days to—to process some things,” he stuttered to her, voice soft in a way that let her know it wasn’t going to be easy.

“Do you need company?” she offered.

In their time together she’d become more accustomed to his presence, falling back into their old habits from school. The light touches they shared, hands on shoulders, fingers ghosting on arms, fluttering hugs that never seemed to last long enough, all had led to Marinette offering to stay up with him if he needed if either of their nightmares got too much to handle and they needed the other.

Needed someone who understood.

Marinette had spent years ignoring the emotional and mental toll their unpaid professions had taken upon them, ignoring the dreams and the jumpiness that had bled over into her civilian form as the akumas got more and more dangerous. She could only imagine what Adrien must have been going through, what his nights were filled with when he was able to sleep, and what life must have been like on the loud and bustling Platt.

That night he offered her only the same sad smile she’d been given before, the same one that said he was swallowing the pain while standing in the fires of his father’s hell.

“I’ll be okay,” he assured, voice too strong for her to make sense, “But, can you do me a favor?”

Marinette’s brows drew together, but she nodded. “Whatever you need.”

His smile was small, but genuine this time as he locked eyes with her. “I want to be alone for this. Nino will come see me and check in on me, but can you stay away until he says it’s clear?”

The request was so odd Marinette wanted to question it, question why he possibly needed her to stay away, but the rawness in the pain of his eyes made her catch the words, burying them as she agreed.

Now, here she was, three days later, before his door with the memory of his lips ghosting her forehead before she left.

Three days, and not a single word from him, and not a single word from Nino.

She looked down at the bag at her side, the jars and metal straws she’d brought clinking quietly in the fabric as she shifted on her crutch. Her ankle had mostly healed, but for recovery and running sake Alya wanted her to keep using the crutch until she fully healed, and Marinette wasn’t one to argue with the fiery young woman.

It had made hauling the jars of water and bone broth harder, but not impossible as she made her way to the workshop.

The first thing she had noticed, rounding the corner to his hall, was the rubber tubing wrapped around the wood of the entrance, creating a perfect seal to the room. It made her stomach drop into cold dread as she stopped before it, testing to see if the doorknob was hot before even thinking of entering.

Maybe there had been a fire and Adrien moved to a different room? She had seen a weird light outside the ship the other night, but hadn’t made it to the windows in time to get a good look..

But the handle was cold and much too heavy in her hand as she listened, ear pressed to the mahogany.

There was some movement on the other side; some sound of metal and fabric but she couldn’t discern any one noise from another.

She took one final breath before opening the door, stealing herself for whatever she may find.

She was thankful for the last lung of fresh air.

The second the seal was broken the smell of the room rushed to meet her, knocking the air from her lungs and racing into her sinuses with a vengeance that made her gag. Her mind fogged over in a violet sludge that made her stumble, barely catching herself and the bag on her crutch before she could go tumbling to the ground.

There was a clattering to her left in the room and she had to blink, blink the black from kidnapping her vision, to see what it was.

By the sky, Adrien looked awful.

He was halfway sitting and halfway laying on his bed, the metal bars from his headboard pressing into his shoulders in a way that didn’t look comfortable. Dark circles marred his eyes, skin paler than she had ever seen with what looked like sweat greasing his face and chest. His normally white shirt was stained yellow and sticking to his chest and sides, his dark brown pants bespeckled with black splotches of something.

The worst things of all were his eyes. His chest rose and fell in short shallow gasps as he turned his face to hers, eyes glistening onyx where there should have been jade. His pupils had blown so wide she could barely see his green in a thin embroidery around them.

The corners didn’t move as he grinned at her, lips chapped and cracking with the look.

What was going on? What happened?

Marinette stumbled again as she tried to take another step, head still filled with the velvety thickness that made her limbs feel like they were combing through caramel as she desperately made her way to the windows.

Adrien was saying something she couldn’t hear as her blood pounded in her ears. The only thing she could focus on was the cold glass under her palms as she pushed the windows open, lungs screaming for the cold fresh air that came thundering into the room.

She thanked the sky for it being a windy day as she breathed the morning breeze.

Adrien’s voice came back to her, the tone all wrong, the cadence a different dance along his tongue than she had grown used to. She turned to him, those too big pupils taking in every part of her with an eternal focus that left her feeling hollow.

“What?” she asked, feeling coming back to her tongue as she worked her jaw to snap her ears.

She knew this syrupy feeling. She knew this too floral smell, like an artificial stem grafted onto dying petals. The question was, how was it here?

The grin was back, not meeting Adrien’s eyes as he greeted her, “I said, ‘hello, Princess’. Although, had I known you would be so overwhelmed in seeing me, I would have gotten more prepared.”

“Prepared?” Marinette parroted, head thumping as the akuma spray started filtering out of the room, and out of her mind. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“Oh, so you aren’t here to play with me? Pity. I would love to see what you’d do with me now that I’m at your mercy,” Adrien cooed, head lully back against the metal bar running up his spine, his eyes still pinpointed on the raven-haired girl next to him.

Marinette shook her head, trying to clear more of the fog as she rubbed the haze from her eyes. “At my mercy? What do you—”

The question died on her tongue as she lifted her fingers, her vision clearing enough to catch the glint she hadn’t seen before. The sound of metal she’d heard through the door had been from the pair of thick metal cuffs around Adrien’s wrists, latched down to the frame of his bed. Even with a thick band of leather separating the steel and his skin, his wrists looked raw, angry red loops tarnishing the golden pallor.

Marinette had to remind herself how to breathe as Adrien smiled down at the cuffs, pulling on them to show the mere centimeter of movement he was allowed.

“As I said, Princess,” he said in the all wrong voice, “I’m at your mercy. Come play with your kitty?”

When his eyes locked with hers again something seemed to finally click. The way his chest was rising and falling so rapidly, his pupils, the grin that had yet to leave his lips, everything was so not Adrien that it made her sick. She had only seen this behavior from him a few times before.

“Chat Noir?” she tried, body moving to grab her bag instinctively.

The shake of his head was so minute she could have missed it had she not glanced back. He didn’t need to correct her on his name, however. The way his grin darkened, eyes bottoming out into soulless pits that dug into her like knives gave her all the clue she needed.

She’d only seen that expression once before, in the possibly worst fight they’d had to date.

“Chat Blanc,” she breathed, heart stuttering as freezing realization lanced through her sternum.

The tiniest of nods accompanied by a wink and her mind was racing again, crashing through the fog to scream at her to run. But Marinette stayed rooted to the spot, planted by the memories of tangling with the man she had thought to be her partner as he crashed into her in the air, ripping and clawing at any skin he could find. The memories of barely cleansing him in time before she’d had to escape, run to Master Fu only to pass out from blood loss on his front stoop.

She’d been lucky to make it out alive, and she was more than aware of that fact.

She never showed him the scars he’d left on her back, or told him it was the reason she’d started wearing her thick leather corsets to battles.

She never wanted to admit to the underling of Hawkmoth how close to death he had gotten her.

She’d never held that over him, though. She’d never mentioned it and never blamed Chat Noir for what his akumatized self had done. She knew he didn’t even remember it, and if he did that he probably would have given up his miraculous on the spot.

Now, staring down at the same glassy eyes that had nearly put her in her grave made her wonder if she should have told him after all.

“H—how?”

“Oh, you know,” Chat began, the voice all wrong for Adrien’s face, “I had some extra spray I needed to burn off. Plagg’s cataclysm needed some more room in the reserve after all. Couldn’t have that lovely stuff going to waste in that little tank, so I decided to take a little hit.”

Marinette frowned, hands tightening around the strap to her bag. “Plagg’s cataclysm? But I thought that ran off of kerosene.”

“It does!” Chat cooed in amusement, “You probably got so used to the smell of it leaking out from the extra pressure that you never knew it wasn’t supposed to do that!”

“Extra pressure, wait did Hawkmoth try to replace Plagg’s kerosene with the spray?”

Chat’s eyes were nothing less than cold, but there’s a spark of enjoyment as he laughed. “Someone’s finally figuring it out! Why I always get a bit more spunky after I use my ability. They’re both oil-based so I’m figuring it wasn’t that hard of a thing to do. I wouldn’t know, though. I wasn’t ever awake for it.”

Nope. Nope nope nope. Marinette could not handle this right now.

She couldn’t handle the cold air that screamed into her chest when she gasped, running her blood into the icy pits of hell as she fought back the urge to either run, or throw up.

Her mind was clearing enough now, her nose catching the barest hints of the catmint still in the corner as she absently toyed with the lid of one of the jars. She had to stay distracted, had to keep her thoughts anywhere but on those eyes, on that laugh, on that smile.

“So you let your cataclysm out in here? Is that why it smelled so strong?”

“Did it smell in here?” Chat asked mockingly, chuckles bouncing his racing chest, “I’m sorry if my musk wasn’t to your liking. But I have to admit, watching you choke was kind of fun. If only it had been a more enjoyable experience for both of us.”

Marinette shot him a glare at that, face hot as he grinned. There was a twitch in his brow that made him pause, a minute movement she could have imagined if not for the way his breath stuttered before he sighed.

“Alas, I cannot say I was that...reckless,” Chat conceded, dramatically letting his head fall against the bars, hands pulling absently at his cuffs. “No, Nino and I saw it more fit to dangle me off the end of the ship. You know, fire and zeppelins don’t really mix. Wanted to make sure everyone would be safe and all that dribble.”

Marinette’s muscles locked, breathing seizing in her throat. He had to be joking.

“He what?”

“Dangled me off the end of the ship,” Chat repeated, laughing cooly at the look on her face. “Well more so hung by a chain around my waist. Didn’t you see the lovely fire show I put on? I had just enough time to light the gas before it knocked me out and Nino had to drag me back here. The jackass actually did what I said and locked me up too! Can you believe it?”

“I can,” Marinette deadpanned, watching the strong corded muscles in his arms strain against his restraints.

The metal gave a small groan before Chat huffed and fell back against the bars again, grin remaining dutifully on his lips. “Well, you’re no fun then. What brings you here anyway? I thought I told you to stay away.”

Marinette was taken aback. Hearing Chat Blanc talk about her and Adrien’s conversation as if he’d actually been the one saying those things, kissing her forehead, made her stomach roil.

She swallowed and readjusted the bag on her shoulder. “I wanted to make sure you were eating,” she said, eyes dodging around the room for any sign of dishware, and when she found none her chest tightened with sharp concern. “Which I’m guessing you haven’t been?”

“I told Nino to stay away too,” Chat said, his grin turning poisonous as his eyes filled with a jet fire. “He tried feeding me a sandwich on the first day and I nearly bit his fingers off. Told him if he wanted to stay in one piece he needed to stay out.”

“And he hasn’t been back since?”

“Not except to pop his head in and see how I’m doing,” Chat admitted, a sour laugh falling dead from his lips. “He really thought I could sleep it off, can you believe that?”

Marinette’s eyes drifted back to the flowers, wanting to avoid the manic fire now pointed at her. “Has it worn off at all?”

Chat scoffed, eyes rolling. “Not a bit. Do you really think I can just will this shit away? I appreciate you thinking so highly of me, Princess, but this cat isn’t that good. Besides, it gives me such a lovely head rush, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been enjoying it while bathing in this shit.”

The smell of the catmint was getting stronger now, and Marinette’s mind snapped back into concentration as she limped over, hand closing around one of the stems. Her botanist mind wept as she snapped it off crudely before decapitating a few more, tucking the bundle under her arm.

“Is that why the windows weren’t open?” she asked, wondering if the fresh air alone was having as much of an effect on Adrien as it was on her.

Her speculation was answered when his brow pinched together, his pupils faltering in their strangling darkness as the emerald crept in for a moment.

His voice was soft, choked, as he absently said, “Blooms don’t like cold.”

Marinette froze next to him, fingers tightening on the strap of her bag and the grounding metal of her crutch. The moment was gone and his pupils were blown wide again before she had time to realize what she had witnessed, but it gave her the thread she needed to start unraveling this mess.

This far out into the sky Hawkmoth would have no power of Chat Blanc, no way of giving him a directive. He was simply a combat machine with nothing to fight. Whenever Akuma’s in the past had lost their purpose they could be reasoned with, talked down to the point of handing over their items or waiting for the spray to wear off enough to talk over their actions.

If she could get the spray out of his system he could recover, but without the help of her mechanical ladybugs and Tikki it was going to be a longer and harder process.

She shook her head, avoiding his eyes as she set down the bag and leaned over him, flowers in hand.

“Then it’s a good thing you’re so warm-blooded,” she said, moving as fast as she could to avoid getting hurt.

Chat flinched as she grabbed his collar, pulling it back and stuffing the blooms inside. He hissed as she pulled back, seeing the flowers sprouting from his shirt in a sort of decaying beauty.

His body stiffened as the smell no doubt invaded his sinuses, hopefully giving some small crack to the viscus wall plaguing his mind. He remained frozen for what felt like an eternity, long enough for Marinette to pull a stool over and grab out one of the mason jars of water.

She was so glad she’d thought ahead and grabbed a straw as she dropped the cold metal into the liquid. “You need to drink this.”

She cautiously offered it to Chat, his eyes wearily dodging between the outstretched glass and Marinette’s gaze. It could have been her imagination but she swore his pupils had shrunk a little again.

“Why are you helping me?” he asked, not bothering with the glass, “Why aren’t you afraid?”

His hands clenched, arms flexing against the cuffs for effect as Marinette stayed resolute, hiding the shaking of her own fingers as best she could.

She didn’t answer him, except with a curt nod towards the glass. She didn’t answer him because he couldn’t have been more wrong. She was terrified, struck right to her core with a hot rod of fear and a cold thunder of dread as he curled his lips around the straw and nearly drained the glass in seconds.

She knew he already had the answer as to why she was helping, but she wasn’t going to let him see her falter and wilt. She wasn’t going to let him think she’d give up on him that easily, not after everything he’d been through.

None of it justified how he’d treated her, but she couldn’t bring herself to give him the same ire back. She couldn’t bring herself to tear apart the tentative partnership they were founding together when it was still so new in its infantile life. There had to be steps taken to prove to one another that things would change, that they could make this work, and that they weren’t the same people they’d always thought one another to be.

So she sat, letting him drink warmed broth from the jar she offered as she watched his eyes deflate, the jade slowly creeping in. It reminded her almost of a power meter filing back up, the way the green slowly was chasing away the onyx fire.

Filling too slow she realized, and when it stalled at what she would later lovingly dub “half-mad” she realized the food and water wouldn’t be enough. Two jars of bone broth and three jars of water weren’t going to be enough to get Adrien back.

He was still practically bathing in the spray, the oil of it making his shirt an odd translucent yellow. His hair was slicked with it and the longer she looked the more she realized it had embedded itself into his skin. What she had thought to be sweat was really a varnishing of the spray, glazing his features so they captured the light whenever he would flinch at the war of his mind fighting the spray.

His arms still occasionally strained against the cuffs, but more in a display of discomfort than in a thinly veiled threat. It gave her the hope that when she glanced around the workshop and spied a length of chain under one of the tables, that she could possibly have a solution to his personal pollution.

“Chat Blanc?” she tried, watching his eyes carefully as he paused in rolling his shoulders, trying to readjust himself in his awkward sitting position.

His head lulled to the side, much more exhausted eyes than before meeting hers and she nearly wept when he shook his head, brow pinching ever so slightly.

“Chat Noir?” she tried instead, voice cracking.

The slightest of nods and she was exhaling her anxiety, letting the shaking finally be seen as she let her head fall forward into her hands.

Adrien had explained to her before that Chat Noir had never had the chance to be a part of him. He always considered the feline counterpart as exactly that, a different person; a different mind clouded by the spray. The fact that he was accepting the title again gave her hope that his mind was clearing.

“Thank the sky,” she whispered as she carded her fingers through her hair.

“Did…”

Marinette looked up, seeing the confusion twisting Chat’s face as he glanced around. He couldn’t seem to focus on any one thing for too long, at least not until his eyes landed on Marinette and she saw the glassy sobriety in them, the same eyes she’d seen too many times during their fights. “Did I do anything to you?”

Marinette choked back a sob of relief, letting it turn into a sad laugh as she sat up. “No, no, Kitty you didn’t.”

Chat’s eyes focused on her, the nickname bringing something closer to the surface as he blinked slowly. “How long has it been?”

“Three days,” she told him, voice cracking as she rubbed at her own eyes. “You were stuck in here for three days. But you’re going to be okay. I know how to help.”

Chat nodded again, eyes slowly dragging down to the flowers sticking from his collar. His personal necklace of cultivated heaven tickling his nose.

Realization dawned in his drowsy eyes and he looked back to her, something renewed as he relaxed back into the bars of his bed. “I trust you.”

Marinette nodded, knowing it was the fastest and easiest way for him to communicate that he would let her do what was needed. She hoped his brain wasn’t as much of a mushy cluster as her’s felt on the spray, but understood how hard it would be to communicate through the caramel soup as he started to sober up.

“We need to get you cleaned up,” Marinette explained, nerves alight as she hoped Chat would respond well to her request. “Do you think I can unchain you?”

Chat’s head flashed up in an instant, fear shooting through his jade eyes like a lightning bolt as his arms jerked absently. “I—I don’t—I could hurt you.”

Marinette nodded, stomach falling with cold dread. “Then do you trust me to help get you clean?”

Chat was corpse still as he digested what she’d asked. She could see the cogs in his mind slowly working through the oily slickness cloying their system as he processed the situation. Marinette took the moment to retrieve the chain from the table, holding it between them in a display of offered help.

The heavy metal felt more like a sin in her palm as she thought of what she was actually offering.

“I won’t take off all of your clothes,” she offered when the silence stretched between them like a misshapen tightrope, “Only what you’re comfortable with.”

Adrien’s still silent and it made Marinette’s heart staccato against her ribs.

Finally, he mercifully broke the silence with a nod. “I trust you.”

Marinette swallowed down the nerves jumping up her esophagus and reached for the hand closest to her. “I’ll undo one hand at a time and attach it to this, okay?”

Chat nodded, eyes weary as her fingers found the spring hook holding him down. “So long as you’re safe.”

Marinette nodded, ignoring the hot lump his words brought to her throat. She’d pondered over the past week how many times he’d protected her without her knowing, how many times he’d had to program himself to save her instead of ending their little feud. Now that she was witnessing it first hand, his inebriated mind wanting nothing more than for her to be safe, she felt something in her chest dent, forever marked by the kindness and sadness of it all.

The latches came off easily, attaching to the end of the chain as Chat sat up dazedly, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck. His eyes drifted shut as he relished in the feeling of arching his back for what must have been the first time in days.

“Do you already have soap and everything in the chem shower?” Marinette asked, infinitely sorry for interrupting his moment of earned relief.

Adrien nodded, eyes sleepily drifting down to her again. “Yeah, do you want to do it in there?”

By the sky, could he have chosen any other way to phrase that?

Marinette swallowed, rising to guide him towards the adjacent room in question. “It’s the best place for it.”


The shower in question, Marinette couldn’t bring herself to call a real shower. The room itself was roughly ten feet by twelve feet, three shower heads dangling intermittently from the ceiling. The piping snaking its way from the rainfall simulating nozzles back to a panel on the wall that could be used to control the flow and temperature.

As they stepped in the polished brass walls reflected back to Marinette her own anxious gaze, blue eyes alight with fright at the sight of the drowsy blond behind her.

She hoped he wouldn’t hate her for this later.

Then her eyes landed on the thick metal chains hooked to a pulley system on the ceiling, large hooks decorating the ends in line with the showerheads. Marinette had to swallow against the nervous laugh that was bubbling up her throat at the ridiculousness of the situation.

She was about to chain Adrien Agreste to the ceiling and bathe him herself. If she had told her fourteen-year-old self this would be happening she would have either laughed or screamed.

She currently felt like screaming.

She tried to distract herself as she walked Adrien over to the middle shower spot. “Tell me again why Nino has these chains in here.”

She’d heard the story a few times already, it being a running joke with their group now, but she wanted something to pull her mind from the way Chat was looking more and more like a drunk she was taking advantage of.

He smiled lethargically at the hooks, muttering. “I told him he needed to flush the filtration system.”

“What filtration system?” Marinette pushed as she slipped his chain onto the end of the hook.

“The one he uses to filter out carbon from the surface soot to use for fuel. He uses it so he doesn’t have to stop off at port while on tour” Chat clarified, pride puffing out his chest as Marinette started raising his hands with the pulley. “I designed the thing for him and he went and ruined it! I didn’t think that when I told him to flush the tubes and vacuum system once a month that he would take it so literally and hang the stupid thing in here to be flooded with water.”

“Did you have to build a new one?” Marinette asked, stopping cranking his hands after they had come to hang a few inches above the tips of his stuck-up hair.

Chat laughed, a more playful sound now than the hateful barks of before. “I didn’t have to. But Max sure wasn’t too happy to have to build another one for him so soon after he got the first.”

His story died off, killed sweetly by peals of laughter as he leaned experimentally on the cuffs, his hands not moving from their height. His eyes grew thoughtful as he watched Marinette glance over him. She’d realized too soon her mistake. She was going to have to get his shirt off, but she should've had him do it when his hands were free. How was she—

“You know,” Chat said, seemingly reading her mind, “I’ve already destroyed one of your outfits for the sake of helping you. Seems only fair that you get to do the same.”

Marinette frowned despite being grateful for Chat being on the same page as her. “Are you suggesting I cut your shirt off?”

She didn’t know if she liked the look of Chat Noir’s suave grin on Adrien’s face as he purred, “Unless you want to rip it off yourself.”

She scoffed, but there was no malice in the sound. “In your dreams.”

Chat’s grin grew warmer, eyes sharper as he retorted, “Only the best ones.”

Marinette couldn’t stop the smile that conquested across her features. “It’s good to have you back, Kitty.”

His smile was nothing less than glowing, but it still held the lofty light of a candle’s flame instead of the sun she knew to be her end game. “I’m not all here yet, Princess. But I trust you to help me find my way back.”

“You will,” Marinette murmured before thinking, cheeks growing warm at his gentle tone. “Let me go grab some scissors.”

She made quick work of his shirt. Two quick cuts along the tops of the sleeves to the collar and it came tumbling off along with the flowers blooms spreading across the floor in a lethargic plume. Marinette did her best to avoid staring at Chat’s now very bare chest, only to find it the least embarrassing of the things she had to focus on.

She never thought she would be undoing Adrien Agreste’s pants and with as little practice as she had in the department of undressing men, she felt like throwing up at the thought of accidentally messing up.

She ignored the younger version of herself in her mind screaming at her to make sure her hands didn’t shake as she pulled down his zipper and shimmied the trousers over his hips. She didn’t bother guiding them down his legs; instead, allowing the garment to fall and for Chat to step out of them, decidedly more comfortable with the situation than she was.

Of course Adrien was more comfortable than she was. He was a model who was used to people stripping and dressing him day in and day out, this was nothing new to him. But the sight of him before her, nothing on but the pair of black boxer briefs she had designed for last year’s winter collection, combined with Chat Noir’s chagrin his teasing eyes held, made Marinette want to melt into a puddle and slither down the drain, never to be seen again.

“You know,” Chat tried joking for her sake, as she went to the control panel for the water, “this isn’t an art museum. You can touch what you like seeing.”

Marinette’s cheeks were assaulted in an instant by a fiery heat she couldn’t hide. Chat laughed at the sight of her ears and neck turning bright red as her hand slammed into the switch to turn the water one, drenching him in a torrent of hot liquid.

She turned the flow down to a gentle drizzle and the temperature to something more manageable before grabbing Adrien’s bottles of shampoo and soap. “You’re an insufferable prick sometimes, you know that?”

“And you’re too much fun to tease,” Chat threw back, shaking the wet hair out of his eyes as he leaned out of the water. “You know you’re going to get drenched, right?”

Marinette glanced down at the light brown button-up and dark olive shorts she was wearing. “I mean, it’s not like I have much else I can wear for this. And if you dare suggest I undress too I’ll throw you out the window.”

Chat laughed as she stepped behind him, rolling up her sleeves and measuring out some shampoo into her palms. “I was going to offer you one of my shirts and a pair of my pants I have in my trunk out there. But I won’t say I’m not disappointed.”

Marinette scoffed, cheeks heating up again as she grabbed a tuft of his hair, pulling his head back towards her so she could start rub the soap into his scalp. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you’re encouraging,” he said, words dying off into contented hums at the feeling of her fingers massaging his head. “You honestly think I can help myself when you do things like this?”

Marinette shook her head, absently noting the way he shivered when her nails accidentally scraped above his nape. “Sometimes I wonder how much of this is the spray and how much is actually you talking.”

Chat opened his mouth to retort, but hesitated. “It doesn’t make me say things. It just takes away the anxiety I have towards saying them.”

“So are you saying you’re a secret pervert all the time?” Marinette laughed, tilting his head back into the stream as the suds cascade down her own arms.

Adrien hummed at the feeling of warm water and caring fingers gliding over his skull. “More like a hopeless flirt at the end of his chain.”

Marinette paused, hands stilling as Chat’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Did you just…”

She trailed off as he burst out laughing, head falling back into her palms as he shot her a smile over his shoulder. “You gave me the opportunity.”

Marinette huffed, but it was more to cover up a laugh than anything as she shook her head. “You know, I almost missed your stupid puns.”

“And I missed hearing you laugh at them,” he said, his voice too warm and full of caring for Marinette not to flush.

They fell into an easy silence as she went about lathering up his back, using the soap to slick her fingers along his tight muscles. The position he’d been sitting in for the past few days had left his shoulders and neck a tight mess of knots, and without really thinking about it Marinette did her best to rub them out as she worked on getting the oily spray off of his skin.

The small huffs and stifled groans from Chat didn’t go unnoticed as his muscles unwound. She mapped out the way he shivered when she had to use her fingernails to work off some extra stuck on soot from where his shirt had ridden up in the back and made sure to stay far away from the line of his boxers on his thighs as she cleaned off his legs and feet.

When she moved to walk around the front of him his eyes blew wide, body swinging around the axis of his chain and he nearly choked on his own tongue.

“C—can you stay behind me, actually?” he rushed, tongue nearly tripping over the words as his ears bloomed a cherry red.

Marinette was about to question his request when she spotted his reflection in the fogging walls. Even with the blur from the steam, she could see the straining fabric at the front of his hips, any thought she had of rebuttal drying up along with her saliva. She swallowed thickly, fighting her own flush as Chat shifted before her again, repositioning himself so his back was square to her.

Despite all of the flirting and all of the dirty comments they had always had an unspoken boundary of never taking things too far, never crossing the invisible line that would complicate their relationship beyond their duels. Even now, in his lethargic state, the Chat Noir side to Adrien’s brain was doing its best to protect that boundary.

She couldn’t tell if it was for his sake or for hers. And she didn’t know if she was allowed to feel this touched by it.

“Y—yeah. Yeah, I can. I’ll just…”

She trailed off as she moved closer, wrapping her sudsy arms around his waist to reach and lather his chest. He jumped at the contact, muscles locking as her hands roamed the plains of his abdomen. She told herself it was purely for the sake of cleaning him that she was doing this, and Chat no doubt was telling himself the same as he remained unmoving.

Marinette had to step into the water stream with him when he went to rinse off, soap bubbles being chased off of her clothes and down the drain as she was soaked to the bone by the comforting warm haze of the shower.

She avoided looking too long at him when she went to retrieve the towels from where he told her they would be, along with one of his shirts and another pair of pants. His voice sounded more like himself, and when she returned and started lowering his arms from the pulley she saw how the emerald in his eyes had won over the black of his pupils.

She approached cautiously, hand still slowly grabbing the end of his chain as a precaution. “Adrien?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you back?” She asked, hesitant, standing on the precipice of hope, wondering if she could trust jumping.

The smile he gave her was lazy in motion, but was anything but in its delivery of reassurance. The air rushed from her lungs in a shaky sigh, her shoulders relaxing for the first time since she had set foot in his room hours before.

“A little hazy,” he admitted, ease taking over his frame as he brushed his fingers gently over her knuckles on the chain, watching them relax at his touch, “but it’s me now. I’m back.”

She wanted to cry, to throw her arms around him and hold him close and sob with joy, but seeing as how they were both still drenched and Adrien only in his underwear she decided it was an embrace best left for later.

“I’m going to undo your hands, if you’re alright with that,” Marinette offered, watching for any hesitation as she reached for the latches binding him to her chain.

She was met with a warm smile and a small nod before her fingers flipped the springs back and the chain fell away.

She stepped back, holding his clothes to her chest as she watched him stretch, rolling his neck and pulling at his arms as he laughed. “By the sky, it’s good to move again. Thank you, seriously.”

She smiled, her cheeks lighting with a new peach tint. “I’m glad I could help. You had me scared there for a moment.”

Just as fast as he’d laughed, Adrien froze, eyes dodging back to Marinette’s as fear twinged the emerald. “I didn’t do anything, did I?”

Marinette shook her head. “No, you didn’t. I just haven’t seen you like that in a while.”

“Well, I hope you never have to see him again,” Adrien sighed, taking his clothes as Marinette offered them. “I cleared out Plagg’s reserve, and if I can find a way to keep your flowers on me when we get around my father I should be able to resist the spray.”

Marinette couldn’t help but smile, less than an hour out of an akumitzation and already Adrien was thinking of ways to be a hero. It was so...him.

“For now let’s focus on getting better,” she offered, “You need to get some actual food, and maybe some more water.”

Adrien nodded, slipping on his pants and buttoning up his shirt in quick mindless habit. “Okay, let me grab you something you can change into and we can go grab some food. I’m starving.”

Nino was more than surprised to find them both raiding the kitchen ten minutes later, Marinette nearly being swallowed by a too big button-down, too big of pants clinging for dear life to her hips, and Adrien balancing a block of cheese on his head with a loaf of bread hanging from his teeth. He swore that Marinette had to be magic, or some kind of cure to akumas if she always found a way to fix Adrien.

“You’re not far off,” Adrien murmured to his friend when he thought Marinette couldn’t hear as they went to eat in one of the viewing rooms.

She’d never admit to him how that one statement sent a swarm of white butterflies through her stomach, passing by her heart in lovely circles.

Notes:

Holy shit how has 2021 been more crazy for me than 2020???

Like 2 moves, a break-up, a new job (which I've quite lmao), 2 new friend groups, and like 3 funerals. Fuck man.

Anywho, I don't think I'm gonna make any promises about when the next chapter is gonna come out. As always, love y'all and thanks for reading!