Chapter Text
Adrien wasn’t as with it as she would’ve liked when time came to drop him back, but he could no longer be mistaken for high quite so easily (and by easily she meant from about 300 meters away) and Marinette had decided to be thankful for small mercies. Adrien would definitely be missed if he was gone overnight, and Nino had texted her with a time he should be able to sneak back in.
Now if only they knew how he’d gotten out in the first place…
Nino said it was one of their friend’s only secrets, so he’d never pushed for information, figuring Adrien deserved all the privacy he could get while he was being closely monitored and simultaneously ignored by his father. (There’d been some comparisons drawn between Monsieur Agreste’s parenting tactics and communist attack helicopters???, courtesy of Nino’s… encouragement, and Adrien’s loopiness.)
Yeah, this wasn’t going to be easy.
“Adrien,” Marinette asked gently, “would you be okay to tell me how you got out of your dad’s house, so we can get you back in?”
Her friend’s brow wrinkled, and he stared into her eyes for a long time – as though he was trying to decide if he could tell her a life-altering secret. Marinette understood why he might want to hold onto the few secrets he could keep, but really? This was a bit much. (And she was proud to say that despite the swarm of butterflies occupying the pit of her stomach as those pretty green eyes met hers, she did not blush, stutter or ramble uncontrollably!)
“Can you keep a secret?”
Marinette nodded intently, and Adrien leaned in close to breathe two words into the shell of her ear.
“I jump.”
He then immediately drew away, eyes wide and looking anxious, as if he’d told her some big secret.
Great. This concussion was so helpful. Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose and prayed that the universe would be merciful and help her get Adrien back inside before anyone noticed that he was missing.
“O-kay, you jump,” Marinette couldn’t hide the scepticism in her voice. “Think you can show me how you get back in?”
Adrien thought for a moment, but then shook his head firmly.
“Uh, okay… do you think you can get back in on your own?”
The nod came pretty quickly, and Marinette supposed that she didn’t have to like this plan, it just had to work. Otherwise they were both going to be so dead.
“Well then… go ahead, Adrien. Sneak back into your house.”
“You have to stay here.”
“Huh?” Marinette replied eloquently.
“You have to stay here. You can’t follow me.” Adrien insisted.
Marinette’s shoulders tensed, and Tiki took that as her cue to gently pat her neck, in a signal that Marinette interpreted as ‘don’t worry, it’ll be fine, this isn’t a terrible idea that will go horribly wrong’.
“Okay. Uh… can you let me know when you’re safe inside?”
Adrien nodded, and with a final command to stay put he vanished around the corner.
“Tiki, did I just make a horrible mistake?”
The kwami floated out from under her hair and into her line of sight, sporting an amused smile.
“It’ll be fine, Marinette. You’ve done a really good job of looking after Adrien today.”
The superhero smiled shyly, “Really? It felt like a bit of a disaster to me.”
“No, you did really well!”
“Thank you, Tiki. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
The kwami rolled her eyes at that, “Have some faith in yourself. You’re far more capable than you think you are.”
Marinette went to respond, but was cut off by the sound of distant yelling. Looking up, she could see Adrien’s face framed by his bedroom window. She waved up at him as Tiki ducked behind her.
“Well, I guess he made it.”
…
Marinette could feel Tiki’s gentle weight making a dent in the pillow next to her cheek. Despite the eventful day, she - and by extension, her kwami – had been lying awake for several hours. Her thoughts had been spiralling, and although that wasn’t an unusual occurrence, the directions they were taking this time took her breath away.
“Tiki… you know, today, the moment where Adrien was almost with it and compared me to Ladybug?”
“Yes?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking… He said that I was like Ladybug because I look after everyone and I have plans and he trusts me, right? And I guess that could make sense to a civilian – I look after Paris, they see me come out on top and execute plans so it makes sense for them to think of me as some sort of master planner and it makes sense for them to trust me, because of the saving Paris thing, but…”
“But?” Tiki asked from her spot on the pillow.
“But… I don’t know, something about it doesn’t feel right to me. When Adrien said those things, it didn’t sound distant in the way that people usually are when they talk about Ladybug. It sounded like he was talking about a close friend, or at least someone he sees a lot… more than Adrien sees Ladybug, anyway.”
Marinette paused, trying to gather her complicated tangle of thoughts into something approximating sentences.
“And… and there was something he said… something that didn’t sit right with me, I remember now. He said something that freaked me out, but then he moved right past it to the ‘chicken wing hand’ thing and that shocked me into forgetting about my previous shock!”
The superhero was moving to sit up now, her mind perceptibly shifting…
She gasped.
“The crate. Tiki, what he said… he said something about Ladybug always being ahead – like with the crate!”
The kwami moved from her spot on the pillow to hover in the air, facing her holder. Her features were hard to make out in the dim light, but later Marinette would think back on it and, maybe by no more than her own imagination, remember the smallest of smiles gracing Tiki’s little face.
“And obviously there’s more than one crate in Paris and I don’t remember being with Adrien in any, but I do remember being with Chat Noir in one!”
She spared a moment to shudder – she had never even thought of drowning in whipped cream as a method of death before, but now it occupied a number of her not inconsiderable nightmares.
“When Mr. Damocles was akumatised and tried to drown us in a crate full of whipped cream! And I asked Chat to trust me and we both deactivated our Miraculouses and I had fakes in my bag!”
The insinuation behind all of this was starting to catch up to Marinette.
“That… Tiki, that fits his description perfectly, doesn’t it?”
She sucked in an unsteady breath, and whispered, “If Adrien was… if Adrien was Chat Noir, that would actually make a lot of sense.”
Her words seemed to narrow down the world to the inside of her dark bedroom, her kwami and her. The sounds of the Parisian streets outside faded to a dull hum, the traces of lights through the cracks around her window blurred into smudges of bright yellow and she couldn’t seem to find enough air to fill her lungs. Despite this, she continued; voice still hushed and words now coming slowly.
“He said that I save him when he does stupid things. I don’t remember doing that for Adrien, but Chat? All the time. The crate reference fits perfectly. And, if you think back… I’ve never actually seen Adrien and Chat at the same time… whenever an akuma has been after Adrien, Chat Noir is suddenly nowhere to be found. And times I’ve known Adrien should be around during or after an attack and I look for him, Chat Noir always seems to know that he’s safely off somewhere else. And…”
Marinette seemed to come to another realisation. Tiki watched on, halfway between being proud and exasperated that this took so long.
“His way out! He said he jumps, and remember how he was so serious, looking like he was telling me some big secret? It’s because he was… just not very well, because he was concussed. He must transform into Chat Noir to get out of his room, and literally jump out the window!”
Her kwami was definitely smirking now, and Marinette ground the heel of her palm into her forehead, wondering how she could be so stupid. She sheepishly turned to Tiki.
“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?
Yeah, okay, Tiki had every right to be smug.
“And you knew the whole time! Oh my God, I’m so sorry. That must’ve been infuriating!”
Oh Marinette, the kwami thought, if only you knew.
…
School that day would be a challenge. Marinette had decided when she came to her revelation last night that she had to confront Adrien the next day (technically the same day, because it was very late or really early, whatever). Considering she hadn’t had much more sleep after that, she was steadfastly sticking to the plan. Plus, if she chickened out it was 100% going to end in disaster.
She had also had the confusing crisis of realising that Adrien – dreamboat Adrien, who she had a crush the size of Jupiter on – and Chat Noir – the Chat Noir who was so irritating and reckless yet had a heart of gold but still, she never thought she’d ever like in a million years – were the same person.
Basically, her brain collapsed.
With Tiki’s assistance, she had decided to shelve that issue for the meantime. Mainly because it was probably about 3am and she might literally shut down if she had to think about it.
So yeah, no thinking about it. But she did have to find a way to corner Adrien privately and confront him and hopefully not break his brain too.
In a move that was very unexpected, considering her usual luck, an opportunity arose without her needing to do anything. Mme Bustier sent her and Adrien to collect the class set of novels they were going to use in their lesson from the library. On the way, Marinette grabbed Adrien’s sleeve without warning and pulled them both into the locker room.
Okay, now what?
She examined her shoes, scuffing the toes against the locker room floor. Glancing up, she could see that Adrien was – unusually – similarly lost for words. He glanced down from the corner of the ceiling he was examining, and their eyes met.
Marinette fought the urge to hold her breath and instead pushed some words out.
“I- um, so… yesterday? Am I right?”
Not the most helpful words, but words still. She chalked that one up as a win.
Adrien ducked his head in an embarrassed nod.
“Yeah… I’m presuming that it wasn’t some sort of fever dream then?” When Marinette nodded her confirmation he winced.
“Well, thanks for looking after me. I really appreciate it, and from what I do remember, it can’t have been easy.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, “it wasn’t. But it’s okay – you’re worth it.”
Marinette could feel the blush creeping up her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to say that, but couldn’t deny the truth in her words.
It would be nice if they didn’t slip out without her permission, but still.
“I, uh- that actually wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about, though.”
She paused, trying to find a way to get the words out and gave up.
“Are you… you’re Chat Noir?”
The boy across from her blinked, and she twisted her fingers nervously as his expression became indecipherable. Then, in an instant it filled with wonder and aweing understanding.
“You’re Ladybug,” he breathed, and Marinette knew she was right as she watched the pieces flit across his face, assembling in front of her eyes.
“You too?” she asked quietly, but no-one responded because suddenly Adrien was kissing her, gently pressing their lips together and her brain whited out.
In the far-off distance, she vaguely registered the sound of voices, but at the moment, she couldn’t care less.
“Finally!” Plagg exclaimed, flying out of hiding. Tiki met him halfway and they hovered off to the side as their holders kissed, keeping watch.
The destructive kwami turned to his counterpart.
“Do you think you can convince Ladybug that this is a good thing? I’m so sick of his pining. It makes me nauseous.”
Tiki smiled, sharp and gentle.
“I don’t think it’s going to be an issue after this.”