Chapter Text
“Chat Noir, would you mind helping me with the tea things?”
Chat stood quietly, left the rest of them to speculate about Hawkmoth’s letter, and followed. He wasn’t particularly interested in hearing whatever was going to come next.
“You seem awfully quiet there, son. Care to let an old man in on your thoughts?” Fu asked once they were out of earshot of the others.
Chat shook his head. “I’m fine, Master Fu, just, trying to wrap my head around some things is all.”
Fu nodded sagely. “You recognized the second miraculous, didn’t you. You’ve seen it before.”
Chat looked up in surprise.
“I was afraid that you would. So, apparently, was the former Hawkmoth.” Fu produced one of the two letters he had referenced earlier. “This letter came with instructions. It’s for your eyes only, on the condition that you remembered seeing the Peacock Miraculous.”
If possible, Chat’s shoulders slumped down even further. “So it’s true then. It really was him. All this time, he was . . . and he knew that I.”
Fu reached up to place a comforting hand on Chat’s back. “I cannot possibly presume to know what you’re feeling right now, much less what you should do. But I can give the same advice I gave to your team a few moments ago: proceed with caution, make sure you have all the facts, and give yourself time to rest before doing anything drastic.”
Chat nodded slowly without looking away from the heavy letter in his hands. A pale lavender, faintly embossed with vague butterfly shapes, sealed with his father’s signature logo, and achingly-damningly familiar.
Adrien,
If you are reading this, then all my worst fears have been correct these many years. I had hoped that they were not, but then I had also hoped that history would justify my actions. If this letter has found you, then I have been wrong on both counts.
There is no justifying my actions, no excuses I can offer to clear my name, but I hope you will hear my reasoning. Your and your mother were everything to me, when I lost her, I became consumed with grief over her passing and terror that I could not protect you. This much you are, as you recently told me yourself, all too aware of. But when I discovered that there was more to our world than I had known, enough power to bring her back and ensure that our family would never be threatened again, I had to have it. The two miraculouses, the peacock and my own Nooroo, were the closest I came. Nooroo gave me the power I needed to protect you, but could not bring back your mother. For that, he told me, I would need to obtain the Ladybug and Cat miraculi. He, unfortunately, had no idea where they were. Thus began my time as Hawkmoth, a role I took purely to smoke out the guardian.
I noticed your ring the first time our home was invaded by one of my creations. It was the closest I had come to losing control of the situation, and the first time it occurred to me that I might be doing more harm than good. Of course the magic prevented me from ever confirming what I suspected, and I felt I was in too deep to stop then.
Yet the thought that my power had been turned against us, that the abilities I had gained to protect you had nearly harmed you, that my crusade to bring back the most important person to you was being fought against you continued to plague me. I always told myself that, once it was all over, when you were once more being held in your mother’s embrace, once our family was whole again, that you would forgive me.
I see now how wrong I was. That day, nearly a month ago, when you marched into my office demanding I recognize your independence, I realized that all I had succeeded in doing was pushing you away. The walls I thought I had built to protect us both had instead divided us, and sometime while I was tending to my butterflies, you grew to be a man without me noticing.
You were right, Son, and I’m sorry. I am sure I have put you in a strange spot with the rest of your team, and that is quite unfair of me. I will not fault you for whatever decision you make, but, if I may make one unreasonably selfish request, come talk to me before you make up your mind. I do, truly, want to make things better, both for those people I have harmed and between us.
I know it may be too late for me to say this, but I love you, Adrien. I’m proud of you.
Belatedly and unjustifiably,
Your Father
Marinette stared down in disbelief at the paper in her hands. As she attempted to digest the information, she slowly looked up at the dejected young man sitting in front of her. “Oh, Minou.” She whispered.
Adrien didn't move from where he sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands and forearms on his knees, half curled in on himself. His only response was a long, shuttering sigh.
Marinette walked forward the few steps to stand in front of him, slowly carding her fingers through his hair. Through the years she had found it to be the quickest way to calm her kitten down after a tense battle or a stressful day.
Adrien mumbled something quietly.
“I'm not quite sure what you said, Kitty.”
“I should have just listened to you.”
“What?”
“You said you had reasons to suspect him, remember? Years ago. That first year. And I didn't trust you.”
Marinette hummed thoughtfully. “That's not how I remember it going down. Sure, you may not have been sold on the idea, but you went along with it until we found him akumatized.”
“But if I had just-”
“No buts. Even master Fu agreed with me that it was highly unlikely that he was Hawkmoth. He covered his tracks well.”
Adrien sat up, shaking his head as he looked up at Marinette. “Still, I lived with him. It was all happening right under my nose. He figured me out! I should have been able to.”
“He had been Akumatized, Adrien. We had no reason to believe that he could even do that to himself. Besides,” she sat down beside him, taking one of his hands in hers, “it's a lot easier to guess that someone you love is a superhero than to admit to yourself that they might be a villain. I mean, I lied to Fu when he first asked who I had gotten the book from.” She blushed. “I just couldn't accept that you could be evil, and I didn't know if I could trust him to not jump to conclusions.”
Adrien looked up at her, “Really? The inscrutable Ladybug lied to her mentor to protect the dreamy model she was crushing on, despite evidence that he might be the very supervillain that had been making her life miserable for the last year?”
Marinette shoved him with her shoulder. “Oh, shut up you alley cat. I was right, wasn't I? You don't have an evil bone in your body and all that evidence was purely circumstantial.”
Adrien scoffed. “Maybe no evil bones, but plenty of something in my gene pool apparently.”
Marinette became equally serious, turning to face him. “Hey, don't do that to yourself. His actions do not define you, no matter how bad they were. You are your own person, and you’re nothing like him.”
“Maybe not evil, but he wasn't exactly doing everything for evil’s own sake either. By his account he's more desperate and overprotective than evil.” Adrien flopped backwards, laying down on the bed. “Is it, is it bad if I'm not sure about what should happen to him? For all these years, I was so sure that when we eventually caught this guy, I would be ready to turn him over to the authorities. But now I-I’m not sure.”
Marinette laid down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don't think it's bad that you're conflicted, Adrien. He’s your father.”
“Even if he is a ‘fucking awful piece of shit father’?” Adrien asked, wrapping one arm around her.
“Who told you that?”
“You did. Like two hours ago. Remember? The billboard, my glasses, you being spots over yo-yo for my purrrfect face?”
“Okay, that should not have been your takeaway from that conversation, Mr. I -fell-in-love-with-the-first-girl-to-tell-my-dad-where-to-shove-it.”
Adrien froze. “Holy shit I have issues.” He whispered.
Marinette giggled. “Please, everyone in Paris knew that, the black leather bodysuit was clearly a cry for help.”
Adrien laughed too, as ever unable to resist joining in with his lady’s infectious laughter. Their laughter slowly died down, and they simply laid together, enjoying the moment of peace.
“He taught me how to pun. Back in the early days of the fashion line, he used to let me help him name new looks. It was always the last part of the day. We’d all get together after dinner and my school work was done and go through all the things he had finalized, punning off the looks until we got a name Dad liked. Mom was soooo bad at it, but I got pretty good.”
Marinette was quiet, simply holding his hand, fingers entwined with his.
“He’s a big part of the reason I got into fencing too. He had all these awards and trophies, and I wanted so badly to be as good as he was. I haven't sparred with him in years, but honestly I still don't think I could beat him.” Adrien sighed. “Chalk that up to yet another reason I’m glad we never had to fight him when he was serious and armed. Fighting him akumatized was hard enough.”
They laid there, Marinette quietly listening as Adrien reminisced, hoping to convey something by her presence that she didn't know how to with words.
Something like “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Something like “Everything will work out for the best.”
Something like “I love you.”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A familiar, cheerful song broke through Adrien’s sleep; a song and muffled mumbling at his side. He came awake slowly, registering the familiar form beside him, the soft throw blanket they had used rather than properly getting under the covers, the bright daylight peeking through his blackout curtains.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmsharrupalya” Marinette mumbled again.
Adrien chuckled. He had always known the Marinette wasn't a morning person, but there was something thrilling about knowing Ladybug wasn't.
“Good morning, My Lady.”
“. . . no”
“Purr~in~cesss” he sing-songed.
“Noooooooo.”
Her phone started ringing again.
“I’m pretty sure Alya is gonna freak out if you don't answer your phone.”
“Uh-hm. Sleep.”
Now Adrien’s phone started ringing. Marinette managed to cuddle him even more firmly when he reached over to get it.
“Bugaboo, I need to get that. . . . You know, I thought growling was my thing.”
He finally leaned over enough to reach his bedside table where his phone was charging. Nino’s contact information came up when he retrieved his phone.
“Hey man, wha-“ Adrien began.
“Dude, do you have any idea where Mari is right now? Alya is freaking out.”
“Nino.”
“She was at her parents’ last night for dinner, but as best as anyone can figure never got back to her and Al’s place.”
“Nino.”
“Alya just figured she had spent the night with her parents, but she left pretty early in the evening.”
“NINO.”
“Did you see her out somewhere last night? I mean, I didn’t see her anywhere and I don’t know why you would have but like, I don’t-”
“Gimme that, Sunshine.” Marinette snatched the phone out of Adrien’s hand and spoke into the microphone directly without putting it to her ear. “Nino, tell Alya to chill out and also she woke me up before my alarm and owes me a coffee. Goodbye.”
Marinette hung up.
Marinette laid back down.
The room was quiet again.
Marinette’s eyes had been closed for no more than a moment or so when she felt an arm reach around her. She could feel herself being gently dragged backwards until she was settled against her partner’s chest. Her partner. She reached down, resting her hand on his, slowly tracing the contours of the ring that helped bring them together.
She heard a long sigh from behind her, felt it ruffling her hair. She shifted back gently, leaning into the embrace.
Nothing had ever felt so right. She simply hadn’t had time to panic the night before, and now didn’t see the need. It was perfect. Her two boys, Adrien and Chat, one and the same. It almost seemed impossible. She would have chalked the whole thing up to a dream if she hadn’t woken up here, with Adrien beside her, with Chat’s arm around her.
Adrien broke the quiet. “So, yesterday really happened then?”
Marinette thought she could roll over and face him easily. She thought wrong. A minute and a half of wiggling, squirming, and struggling later, she finally succeeded.
Adrien wasn’t laughing, but it was a close thing.