Chapter Text
Adrien was no stranger to the guilt that filled his mind late at night. Overthinking what ifs and dwelling on past mistakes became an unwanted pastime for him. The sky turned dark, but the intensity of his thoughts blinded him.
He kept a mental list of the people he could possibly disappoint. The list was significant from the beginning, holding the weight of his father’s expectations. At any moment, he could be disappointing his father’s whole brand, unknowingly disappointing everyone that paid attention to fashion. The list grew for the first time when he entered public school. His teachers and new friends were all capable of finding flaws in Adrien.
Adrien spent his life tip-toeing around people he cared about. The less they knew about what he felt, the smaller chance they could be disappointed in him. Nino would ask about his photo shoots, but Adrien only ever told him that they went well. He couldn’t tell his best friend that the photographer became frustrated with him halfway through because he was unable to find the right pose. He never told anyone that his father sighed loudly every time Adrien took too long changing into the next featured outfit. What if Nino agreed with the sentiments of his photographer and father? Telling him too much just opened the door for more disappointments.
Settling into his role as Chat Noir expanded the list by a substantial amount. He became capable of disappointing his whole city and possibly the whole world. Adrien lost sleep more than once because he thought too deeply about letting innocent civilians die.
At the top of the list, a single name was bolded, circled, and underlined. Adrien’s guilt usually left him long enough for a few hours of sleep, but being rejected by Ladybug always seemed to find its way into his dreams. He constantly worried about disappointing his partner and felt guilty for actions he never did and words he never said. They were all thoughts, just what ifs and overthought possibilities, but they felt so real to Adrien. He realized how much potential he had to be a disappointment and wanted to apologize for just being.
It wasn’t until Adrien was seventeen that he was able to break away from the constant anxiety he felt from his father. He knew his father loved him, but he also knew that his father loved him despite a lot of things. Adrien’s friends, interests, and role as Chat Noir were never a part of his father’s perfectly calculated equation for success, but they were all things that would be a part of Adrien forever. When he realized that his father’s disappointment was inevitable rather than just a possibility, he was able to sleep a little better at night. Flyers for his mentor’s new piano business were up around town, he was no longer a model for his father’s brand, and he felt lighter. Knowing that he no longer fully cared about living up to his father’s image helped him breathe easier.
Still, although Adrien was able to fall asleep much faster at night, his dreams of Ladybug haunted him. Her name was still bolded, circled, and underlined at the top of his list, except that it now held a new weight. Ladybug was Marinette, Adrien knew more than he should, and the door of possible disappointment was wide open. The guilt ate at him every time he saw her, both in and out of the ladybug suit, and the anxiety he felt grew with their relationship.
Weeks after visiting the Belleroses, his anxiety hit a new peak. Seeing Marinette was his favorite thing and his most dreaded thing. Every time he made her laugh, or smile, or look at him in that way, he felt like he was fooling her. She didn’t know how much he had wronged her. As Ladybug, she told Chat over and over again how much she didn’t want him to know her identity. And until recently, Adrien reluctantly followed her wishes. What would she say if she knew that Chat had known for weeks, and never told her? What would she do if she found out that one of her best friends was keeping the biggest secret he could possibly keep?
“You okay Adrien?” The question hit him like an akuma attack. No, he wanted to answer, I’m not. And it’s because I’ve been lying to you for weeks. Instead, he smiled and nodded.
The answer seemed to appease Marinette because she went back to sketching. It didn’t bother Adrien that he had come over just to watch Marinette work on new ideas for her clothes and that he was just sitting next to her desk and looking out the window. She would sigh quietly every once in a while, and her room was warm, and he could smell cookies being made in the bakery downstairs, and it was enough. It was more home than his own home. The guilt gnawed at his heart.
Marinette spoke again, causing Adrien to jump away from his thoughts. He looked up at her and smiled at her worried expression, “Sorry. What did you say?”
She watched him for a moment longer but couldn’t find anything weird in his smile, “I asked how Mr. Bellerose’s business was coming along. Are the flyers and website helping?”
Adrien nodded, “It’s going really well. He has five new clients right now and two more possible clients meeting him this week. Plus, a few of his older clients have contacted him to see if he’d be interested in working for them again. He says he’s busy all the time now,” Adrien smiled fondly out the window. The sounds of the city soothed him. The car horns, the laughing people, the rain hitting the pavement. Adrien could watch the clouds fly by for hours, getting lost in the feeling of being so small. The bigness of the world always made Adrien’s worries feel insignificant enough to forget. But, still, he had a hard time letting them go.
He could hear Marinette sliding her chair over to sit next to him. Knowing that she was suddenly closer made him feel big again, important, and brought back all of the anxiety that he had almost forgotten. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking again, She wouldn’t want to sit this close to me if she knew what I’ve done.
Adrien glanced at Marinette and found that she wasn’t paying attention to him. Her eyes were out the window, searching the sky for the same thing that Adrien had already found. Some sort of peace, and a much-needed forgetfulness. He could realize anxiety from a mile away.
“You okay?” he asked her, quieter than she had asked him before.
“I love it when it rains. Something about the world changes. Everything becomes softer,” she didn’t look at Adrien as she spoke, but something in her eyes changed and she stopped searching the sky.
Adrien looked away and allowed it to be quiet between them. Something heavy was resting in the air around them, but Adrien couldn’t identify it. It was usually just his own guilt, but this was something mutual. He knew Marinette could feel it too.
In an attempt to thin the air, Adrien lightly pushed Marinette’s shoulder with his own and smiled at her, “I didn’t know you were so poetic.”
Marinette rolled her eyes, but she smiled back at him. She tugged at the sleeve of his navy blue sweater, “Shush, Adrien, or I’ll tell Papa not to give you any of the cookies he’s making.”
Marinette giggled as Adrien’s eyes widened and he mimicked locking his mouth with a key. With a shake of her head, she stood and tugged him up with her, “Let’s go get those cookies, then.”
“You’re done sketching?” He let himself be dragged down the stairs, trying not to think too much about Marinette’s hand wrapped around his wrist. He could so easily slide his hand up to meet hers. But, as always, the guilt reminded him why he shouldn’t.
Marinette shrugged, “For now.”
“Cookies are more important than your future?”
Marinette snorted, looking back to see his smirk, “My future?”
“Yeah,” Adrien pulled his wrist from Marinette’s hand but continued to follow her down to the bakery, “When you’re a super important fashion designer who is praised in every magazine and celebrated by the world.”
Marinette let out a loud, mocking laugh, “Only if you’ll be the face of my brand.”
Adrien grinned. The idea of being the face of any brand ever again made his stomach twist. To be a slave of someone else like he was for his father, it was something he knew he could never bring himself to do again. But he knew it would never be like that with Marinette.
He came to stand next to Marinette at the bottom of the stairs, “How about we make it a partnership? You and me, taking the fashion world by storm.”
Marinette put a pinky out for Adrien to wrap around with his own, “Deal,” she said, and Adrien knew it was.
“I knew once I started making cookies that you two would be down soon,” Tom Dupain greeted the two at the kitchen door, a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. Mr. Dupain looked tired, as if he’d been up for hours, but he was still grinning and radiated cheer. Adrien realized this was what passion looked like, “They’re cooling on the counter. Don’t eat them all!”
He moved out of the way so Adrien and Marinette could walk through, pleasantly saying their thanks as they passed. They spotted the cookies, all 96 of them, cooling on racks on the counter.
“There isn’t enough,” Marinette said with a jokingly exasperated tone.
Adrien scoffed, “Maybe not for both of us. You can just go back up to your room; I’ll meet you up there when I’m done devouring these cookies.”
“No way!” Marinette glared up at him, “You have to share.”
Adrien sighed and walked toward the cookies, “I can part with one or two, but that’s it.”
Marinette was already piling cookies onto a napkin, “Ha ha,” she wrapped at least ten cookies in the napkin and grabbed at Adrien’s sweater before he could take one himself.
“Hey!” He was pulled toward the door again by Marinette, a smug smile on her face.
“I can share.”
“We each get half?” Adrien asked from behind her. Marinette stopped abruptly and turned around to face him. With her pinky out and a smile on her face, she nodded.
“We each get half.”
Adrien grinned, taking her pinky with his, “Deal.”
It was ironic how the source of his guilt did so well at making him forget the guilt. He could eat cookies with Marinette up in her room forever. He could listen to the rain, spout stupid jokes to make her laugh, and playfully push her when she glared at him. He could be this person, the person Marinette saw, forever. But he knew that he wouldn’t be that person anymore once he was alone in his room when the rain would take on a new meaning.
Adrien left at seven without having to be told to. He knew he’d see her again in an hour, dressed up in her best Ladybug suit. He walked home because he had told his dad that drivers were ridiculous and unneeded for a boy his age. Really, though, it just gave him another excuse to transform.
After walking down the nearest alleyway, Adrien paused and let the darkness settle around him for a moment.
“Plagg?” Adrien’s voice was hard and quiet. The kwami flew out of the messenger bag without a word and stared back at his friend.
“Transform me,” Adrien said, just above a whisper and more emotional than he had meant it to sound. It was clear that he wanted to be something more than just Chat Noir. Maybe a new person, someone he could feel good about being without a mask, but he had to settle.
Plagg could only do one thing to help, and a second later Adrien was dressed all in black. Chat jumped onto one of the buildings he had been standing next to and looked around. The rain had stopped, but it had left a certain atmosphere behind.
“Chat?”
Chat Noir quickly put up his staff in defense and stared into the dark. His eyes found his Lady, watching him from the next building over.
“Ladybug?” He dropped his stance and jumped over to her, “What are you doing out? We’re not supposed to meet for another hour.”
Ladybug raised her eyebrows, “I could ask you the same thing, Chat.”
Chat grinned at her, stepping closer, “I asked you first.”
Ladybug blew on her bangs and glared, but Chat could see that she was embarrassed, “I was just…going to visit a friend. That’s all,” she glanced behind Chat, and Chat followed her gaze. Just ahead of them was his home, the Agreste mansion.
He smirked to himself before turning back to her, “Adrien Agreste?”
Her eyes widened at his correct guess, “Uh…do you know him?”
Chat shrugged and pointed at a billboard. Adrien was dressed in a similar sweater to the one he had been wearing earlier, smirking at the viewer in an attempt to communicate his so-called success and celebrity status, “I think everyone does,” he said, trying to hide the malice from his voice.
“Right,” Ladybug cleared her throat, “Well, I should be going then. I guess. To see him.”
“Right,” Chat grinned. But just as Ladybug was about to walk passed him, he grabbed her wrist. His smile had dropped, and he swallowed hard, “Wait.”
Ladybug blinked back at him in surprise. He waited for her to glare at him in annoyance or push past him with anger, but she never did. She just stared back thoughtfully, waiting for him to explain himself.
It was in this moment that Adrien could see himself spilling everything to her. He would tell her who he was. He would apologize over and over again and hope that she would see his side of things. He would hug her as Chat, but really as Adrien, and tell her how much he wanted her. All of her.
Instead, he breathed in a shaky breath and said what he shouldn’t have, “Tell piano boy I said hi.”
Ladybug’s eyes widened again, but Chat didn’t stick around to see if she’d say anything. He jumped away, onto a building that was opposite to the direction of his house, and continued his path without looking back. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he couldn’t follow her to his house.
He ended up at their meeting spot. It was darker than ever, but Adrien was used to the darkness. He decided he’d wait. Ladybug would see that Adrien wasn’t in his room, and hang around until eight. Then, she’d come to the meeting spot and maybe, if he could face her again, he might be able to explain himself. Adrien breathed in a less shaky breath and tried to clear his mind.
It wasn’t ten minutes later that he heard Ladybug land behind him.
“How did you know?” her voice was accusatory, as if she was expecting him to turn around and confess to knowing her identity and seeing her with Adrien as her civilian form. And if Chat could, he would do just that.
Instead, and without turning around, Chat shrugged, “I guess it just makes sense. You’re going to see some boy in the middle of the night after telling me that you made a new friend who can play the piano. And we all know the incredibly talented Adrien Agreste can play piano,” Chat rolled his eyes at his own reputation, not stopping to think about how his words would be taken by Ladybug.
“He is talented, Chat. And just because you’re jealous—”
Chat snorted, “Trust me, I’m not jealous of Adrien.”
It was silent behind him, and Chat was able to replay his responses in his head and realize what he was really saying to Ladybug. He turned around quickly and found her gaping at him. Pain turned into anger, and before he could do anything, he was watching Ladybug grab her yoyo and fly away. He watched for a moment as she continued down the path of their usual patrol before he followed, jumping along buildings next to her and busying himself by half-heartedly looking for crime.
Halfway into the patrol, he tried to end the silence, “I didn’t mean it like that, LB,” he called to her, having to slightly shout in order to be heard over the sound of wind flying past their moving bodies.
Ladybug stopped on a building and waited for him to join her. She glared at him, her hands clenched into fists by her side, “Trust me,” she mimicked, “I don’t care what you meant, Chat.”
“Ladybug,” he reached out to grab one of her hands, but she moved away before he could.
“We’re done with the patrol tonight,” her voice was softer now, showing the hurt he had caused her, and he winced.
Chat wanted to say so many things but settled on saying nothing. Ladybug even waited a moment longer to see if he’d try to fix the mess he had caused, hoping that he’d say something to make the unknown feeling in her chest go away, but he didn’t. So she sighed and left him standing alone again.
It was still very, very dark.
He arrived back to his room and found that a text was waiting for him. He considered not even checking it because it was from Marinette, and she didn’t know who she was really texting, and the guilt was eating him alive.
But he checked it anyway and gave the guilt something else to throw at him. If she knew who you really were, she would never text you again.
The text read: I know we only saw each other a few hours ago, but could you call me when you get this? If it’s not too late?
The day was getting close to ten o’clock, not late at all to two seventeen-year-olds, but Adrien couldn’t allow himself to call her. He leaned back in his desk chair and put his hands behind his head. Plagg sat on the desk and ate his cheese, trying to do so quietly.
“Just call her,” Plagg said it as if the answer were clear and simple.
Adrien sneered, “She wouldn’t want me to call her if she knew who I was.”
“Uh…” Plagg finished his bite, “I’m pretty sure knowing you’re Chat Noir would make her want you to call her more. But I mean, what do I know,” he rolled his eyes and zoomed out of sight.
Adrien allowed himself to wonder about Plagg being right for only a second before he convinced himself again that Marinette wouldn’t want to hear from Chat.
The more he thought about it, the more everything troubled him. He was supposed to feel free and untouched as Chat, but now it was just another form of stress for him. Not only did he feel horrible for lying to Marinette as Adrien, but he now felt horrible for hurting Ladybug as Chat. He just wanted to feel good in some form.
Adrien stood from his desk and threw himself onto his bed, “Well, Plagg, I think I fucked up royally this time.”
In a second, Plagg was floating above him, “Wow. You cussed. You must mean business,” Plagg rolled his eyes again, and the corners of Adrien’s mouth twitched up a bit.
They sat in silence for a long moment before Plagg moved to sit on Adrien’s shoulder, “She probably needs someone to talk to. Like you do when you get all,” he waved his hand around, “weird.”
“But I caused that weirdness, Plagg. She doesn’t want to hear from me,” Adrien sighed.
“Whatever,” Plagg flew up from Adrien’s shoulder.
“Plagg?” Adrien watched his kwami.
Quickly, before Adrien could even realize what happened, Plagg bumped his head with Adrien’s forehead lovingly before racing back to his sleeping place on Adrien’s desk.
“Thanks, Plagg,” Adrien said quietly. He left his bed to turn off the light but immediately fell back onto it without changing out of his clothes.
Adrien closed his eyes with the full intention of keeping them closed, but the ringing of his phone forced them open again. He reached for his phone and stared at the ID picture of Marinette he had taken at her house. She had been glaring at him, but he could see the beginnings of a smile. Her hair was up in a messy bun, a hairstyle that she only wore at home, and she was leaning back in her desk chair. Behind her, Adrien could see her sketchbook wide open and drawing pencils everywhere. Marinette had asked him why he liked this picture so much, but Adrien wasn’t able to explain it. Looking at it now, he knew why. The picture was so her and it showed everything he loved about her.
“Well?” He heard Plagg say from the desk.
“Oh,” Adrien forced himself out of his thoughts. He accepted the call and brought it to his ear, “Hey,” he tried not to sound breathless.
“Hey. I wasn’t sure if you’d answer,” Marinette was quiet from the other line. She sniffled after she spoke, and Adrien wanted to fling himself out the window.
“Yeah, sorry, I was just about to fall asleep.”
“Oh!” her voice was louder, “Of course. I’m sorry, I’ll let you go.”
“No, no, I can talk,” Adrien covered his eyes with his arm but kept the phone to his ear. Her voice appeased the guilt for a moment, but he knew it would be back. He shouldn’t have been talking to her, not when he had caused her pain, but he couldn’t let her go.
“Okay,” she was quiet again, “I guess I just…” she sighed, “I don’t know. Felt like talking.”
“I get like that, too, sometimes,” Adrien’s voice was just as quiet.
“Really?”
“Yeah. All the time, actually.”
“But you never call me,” Marinette’s voice was becoming concerned.
“No, but I see you every day. And it helps,” Adrien stood from his bed and walked out of his bedroom door. He was quiet, though he knew he didn’t have to be. His father was in Rome to meet other Very Important People and discuss Very Important Things.
“Promise?”
“Pinky promise,” he let himself smile in the darkness.
For any other reason, Adrien would have asked Marinette why she was upset. But he didn’t know if he could take listening to her talk about Chat, so he didn’t say anything else. He continued to walk down hallways with only the light from windows illuminating his path. He was so used to this house, though, that he didn’t even need the windows. He could find the piano room in the darkest darkness.
“What are you doing?” she asked after a moment of comfortable silence. He could picture her lying in bed, one arm resting on the pillow behind her head and the other holding the phone to her ear.
Adrien walked into the piano room and turned on the light. He blinked a few times to adjust before he made his way to the piano bench, “I thought I could play something for you. Maybe it will help you sleep.”
“Adrien?” Marinette was quiet again.
Adrien paused at the bench, “Yeah?” he held his breath.
“I would love that,” she sniffled again, but he could tell she was smiling.
Adrien sat down on the bench and put his phone on speaker. He set the phone down next to him and played a single note, “Can you hear that?” He looked down at the phone.
“Mmhmm,” Marinette said back. Adrien now pictured her snuggled under her blankets, the phone on speaker next to her in the dark. Her eyes were probably closed, waiting for him to lull her to sleep.
He sighed to himself, quiet enough so that she couldn’t hear, and he began to play. He forgot she was on the line as he played, only focusing on the keys and getting it right. He let himself fly away from his life for a moment; to daydream about what ifs that didn’t cause him heartaches. They all included Marinette, and they all included her smile.
By the end of the song, he could only hear Marinette’s gentle breathing from the other line. Adrien smiled down at the piano keys and sighed again, still too quiet for anyone but himself to hear.
“Marinette?” He whispered, waiting a moment after to see if she’d reply. But no, she was asleep, and he was talking to no one.
Adrien swallowed hard and closed his eyes, “Marinette,” he whispered again, now knowing that she wouldn’t be able to remember what he said next “Forgive me. For everything. Please,” the last word came out shakily, and his eyes threatened him with tears, but nothing came.
He hung up the phone, sent Marinette a quick goodnight text, and stood from the piano bench. With the light turned off, he was in darkness once again.