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Ladybug watches, stunned, as tears begin to slide down her partner’s cheeks. It’s been a long day, and the two are sitting atop a support beam on the Eiffel tower after their patrol, watching the sun slip slowly beneath the horizon. The sky is painted in gorgeous ambers, scarlets, and violets. It’s a beautiful sight to see, but what’s important at the moment is Chat Noir. Not the sky.
“I’m sorry, milady. I guess…after that last akuma…I just….” Chat’s voice trails off. The akumatized person in question had been a victim of abuse in their home life, according to their teary monologues and the statement they gave after the fight. “It’s just…” he tries again, “I don’t exactly have the best relationship with my dad. And I know that you don’t like us talking about things that could lead to us accidentally revealing our identities!” he says hurriedly. “But I have to get this off my shoulders.”
Ladybug’s heart breaks for the boy in front of her, and she shoves the rules she has a love-hate relationship with aside. “It’s okay, kitty,” she says, pulling him into a hug. “I’m here.”
Chat returns the hug gratefully. “He’s just so cold, y’know? I’m kinda…famous in my civilian life, and he seems to think that isolating me from everyone will keep me quote-unquote ‘safe’. He…it j—I have to schedule an appointment to just talk to him.”
Hmmmm… This sounds…vaguely familiar.
“Shhhhhh,” Ladybug says in what she hopes is a comforting voice, although she can hear her own sorrow. She runs her fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, minou—” Her voice cracks mid-sentence. It isn’t okay, and it won’t do anyone any good to say it is.
“This year was the first year I got to go to public school, and I practically had to incite a revolution to do that. I have, like, three real friends. Besides you, of course…and my kwami…. And I’m lonely all the time and sometimes I cry myself to sleep and my mom’s gone and she was pretty much the only person who could cheer me up. Before she disappeared. Left. I dunno.”
Well, this seals it. Chat’s family situation is way too similar to Adrien’s to be mere coincidence.
Yep. Okay. This is…this is fine.
Chat Noir is Adrien, and Adrien is Chat Noir, but Ladybug doesn’t really have the time, patience or energy to process this at the moment. No, she’s too busy focusing on thinking of ways to beat Gabriel Agreste up. (She doesn’t normally strive to kick the crap out of civilians, but this is a worthy cause, she thinks.)
The sorrowful, heartbreaking moment passes and fury settles in. That man has emotionally abused her partner and her friend for the past god knows how long. He is the reason Adrien flinches every time Mme. Mendeleieve raises her voice. He is the reason Chat Noir has softer-than-normal spots for every child he meets, treating them delicately as if they might break.
That bastard.
Well, unfortunately for him, she’s Ladybug, and she is going to avenge her friend and partner, dammit!
“I’m so sorry, Chat,” she murmurs. She kisses the top of his head. “It’s going to be okay. Trust me.” She stands up, being careful to not drop him. “C’mon, buddy. There’s someone we need to go see.”
“What—?”
“Just—just follow me.” S he jumps off the tower without another word to avoid interrogation, casting her yoyo out when she gets close enough to the ground that she is sure it will catch on something.
A couple minutes later, they stop on a rooftop a block away from the Agreste mansion. Now comes the hard part.
She hears Chat’s boots thunk on the roof, and says, “Chat, I’m sorry, but…” She hesitates. “I…I need you to detransform.”
“You—you what? ” he asks incredulously.
She turns to face him in the middle of his outburst.
“After two years of telling me ‘no, we can’t reveal our identities, it’s too dangerous’, you just want me to do this now? Now you’re telling me to detransform? What the fuck ?”
Tears pinprick behind her eyes. “Please, Adrien.” His eyes widen as she continues. “I’m sorry.”
“You—how?”
“I figured it out. When you were explaining about your dad,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry, Ch—Adrien.”
“Are you…are you going to tell me yours? Not that I’m asking you to! I’m just…curious,” he says hurriedly.
“I—no…no, I don’t—I can’t—I’m not ready yet.” She already has to start forcing the panic back down.
Chat, seeing her worry, rushes over and puts his hands on her shoulders. “It’s okay! LB, I’m not mad.”
“You…aren’t?”
“No! Of course not! If you’re not ready, then that’s okay. I know you found me out on accident. It’s okay.”
“Okay. Good.”
“I guess I’ll just….” He sighs. “Never mind. Claws in.”
A green light washes over him, leaving Adrien in his place.
Ladybug stares. She had already known, but she is somehow still shocked.
Her eyes are still blurred with tears from her panic, and she sees a familiar shade of blue ribboning around his neck.
It’s all she can focus on.
Yet another of Gabriel’s falling-shorts.
More tears fall, but they are of anger this time. (Marinette cries when she’s angry, something she loathes about herself.)
She growls something incomprehensible and picks up Adrien bridal style, carrying him across the street to his house.
“Front door, or your window?” It’s the most she can get out without her voice breaking.
“...Window?”
She nods and leaps up, rummaging through her memory to find which one is his room. Window’s more logical anyway, she supposes.
Luckily, the window is already open from his escape earlier tonight. She jumps in and sets him down gently. Both are reluctant to let go, but when they finally do, red is clearly visible on both their faces, even though the lighting is dim and the night is dark.
“ Uh ,” Ladybug says, trying to recover, “do you know where your father might be?”
“He’s…probably in his room,” Adrien says. “Sleeping. Or, actually, you know, he might be in his study. And dumping more things on my schedule so I have even less freedom.”
Ladybug laughed. “I never thought I would hear Adrien Agreste say something so salty.”
He fake pouts. “Hey, I earned it!”
Ladybug’s grin falls away. “Yeah. You did. But,” she adds, her face lifting, “I’m going to see about fixing that!”
They eventually find him, not in his room, but in his study. Most people would knock before entering the design room of one of Paris’ most famous fashion designers, but Ladybug is not most people, and feels it is hardly necessary to grant him that courtesy. So she pushes the door open and marches in, Adrien staring at her, a little startled.
And now she’s in there and Gabriel Agreste is not-quite-glaring at her, and he looks a little unpleasantly surprised, and was this really a good idea, and she’s regretting her impulsiveness a little but there’s no going back now and so she stands up straight because she is Ladybug, she’s faced countless things scarier than him, and she puts on her best I-Will-Take-No-Bullshit-From-You-Sir face, and breathes in.
“Might I ask why Ladybug has made her appearance in my home this evening, Adrien?” Gabriel asks, not even bothering to acknowledge her.
Rude! She fumes silently.
Adrien seems to be at a loss for words, so Ladybug takes a chance and steps in. “Monsieur, I’m here to talk to you about the treatment of your son.”
His cold gaze turns on her and she almost winces—almost. But she stands strong.
“I wasn’t aware there was anything wrong. Is there a problem?”
Is there a— what? Is he being serious? She’s pretty sure her jaw drops, but can’t check because she immediately fires off, “Is there a problem? Is there a problem?”
Adrien doesn’t think he’s ever seen Ladybug this angry. If this were a cartoon, he thinks, her ears would be spewing smoke and flames would be shooting out of her mouth.
“Your son is one of the kindest, friendliest, most trustworthy people I have ever met, which is an absolute miracle considering the house he’s growing up in!” she shouts. “He has to, and I’m quoting him word for word, make an appointment just to talk to you—”
“Childish exaggerations—”
“You don’t let him have enough free time, and you don’t let him have friends over! It’s almost as if you think he’s a robot, instead of an actual human being!”
“My son doesn’t need these so-called ‘friends’— they all have ulterior motives! Are you really that naïve that you think they actually want to be his friends?”
“Are you really that mulish that you refuse to believe there are genuinely good people out there? We—they’re fifteen years old! What could they possibly stand to gain?” She winces inwardly at her almost-slip-up, but powers on. “His mother is gone, and you’re a jerk , and I can’t believe I ever idolized you!”
Gabriel stares at her, taken aback. Adrien thinks maybe his father was under the impression that everyone idolized him, and it wasn’t possible to not .
“He is so sweet, so kind, he even gave me his umbrella one day when he didn’t have to! But what do you do for him?”
“I protect him—” Gabriel starts angrily.
“No, you don’t! You isolate him! From everything!”
The umbrella? I didn’t— oh.
Oh. Oh .
Adrien starts tearing up a little, because not only is Ladybug vouching for him, but Marinette is too. Of course she is. It makes her friendship even more valuable to him.
(But while she’s been doing this, he’s been standing there silently and slack-jawed, and he remembers that actually, he has some things he’d like to say too.)
“She’s right, Father,” he says, not quite softly, but not quite at the level that Ladybug— Marinette —is on.
Gabriel swivels to stare at him. The look on his face is priceless, and Adrien feels like laughing, albeit bitterly. The notion that Adrien, his son, would dare to disagree, or even talk back to him has apparently never crossed Gabriel’s mind.
“Adrien? What—”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Adrien snaps. “You don’t let me have friends, you didn’t let me go to school, you don’t let me have birthday parties, you gave me a pen for a birthday present the last three years in a row, you never talk to me anymore unless it’s for a modeling thing, you—”
“Are you quite finished?” Gabriel interrupts.
“If I finished the list, we would be here for hours,” Adrien retorts. “You know, sometimes it seems like all you really want in life is to make me miserable. Sometimes I wonder if you ever wanted a son at all. Sometimes,” he says, quieter, “sometimes I wonder if you really even love me.”
Silence.
And Gabriel, it seems, is finally at a loss.
“Monsieur,” Ladybug says quietly, “I am giving you two options. One, you start breaking the ice between you and your son.” She puts what she hopes is a subtle emphasis on the words your son, just to rub it in a little more. “Two, you let him choose where he would like to sleep at night.” She glances at Adrien when she says this, and she can see in his eyes that he knows who she is. Which they’ll have to talk about later, but there’s a key word in that sentence: later . “Clearly, he’s not at home here. He may live in this house, but neither it nor you are home to him. You’ve fallen short on a lot of your emotional and parental responsibilities, and that means that his friends and their families are going to have to make up for that.”
Gabriel is still stunned silent, and doesn’t say a word. He looks like he’s dissociating, Ladybug thinks, or at least like he’s about to have a mental breakdown.
He deserves it.
She waits a little longer, and when there is still no response, she turns to Adrien, and in a wordless exchange of concernedly raised eyebrows and small nods, they leave the mansion.
Gabriel breaks out of his trance, and curses himself. He had Ladybug right there in front of him! Half of the set of miraculouses he had made his mission to obtain, literally right under his nose, owing to his arch nemesis’ short stature.
It would have been so easy to grab them, but he didn’t. He curses himself.
There is also the matter of Adrien staying somewhere else than the house he had been given (how ungrateful), but he supposes the most he can do is run a background check on whoever he decides to stay with.
He just hopes it isn’t at the residence of that DJ friend of his. Gabriel still recalls the incident during which he had to kick him out on the grounds of daring to suggest that his son have a party for his birthday. Preposterous!
He made a good akuma, though.
They walk out and down the stairs, and for a few moments their footsteps on the cement is the only sound.
“So—”
“Is it—”
They both say at the same time. Ladybug laughs nervously and Adrien, whose mood hasn’t quite lifted up all the way, tries to hide a blush.
Ladybug says, before she loses the chance (or chickens out), “Where were you planning on staying? I could take you to Nino’s if you want—”
“What? No, I was actually thinking about staying with…” He hesitates after realizing that what he planned on saying was you , and feels embarrassed.
“See, I was gonna offer my place, but I thought maybe you’d want to stay at his house, but then I didn’t want to make you feel like I wasn’t an option—I mean my house, and, uh…” Her voice trails off as she realizes she is rambling yet again.
“So I can stay with you?” He sounds more eager than he intended, and he rubs the back of his neck to hide his embarrassment.
“You want to? I mean, if you want to!”
“Are you sure? Would you be okay with it?”
“Would I—would I be okay with it?” Marinette smashes her internal keyboard. Asdfglsjdkfkslsgdlfksljflskd, she wants to scream.
(This whole talking thing would be a heck of a lot easier if they were texting. But they’re not, so forge ahead she must.)
She barks a hysterical laugh. Oh, if only he knew. If only he knew .
Would she be okay with it. Ha! She was going to have to tell Alya about that.
“I’m—not sure I understand? What’s so funny?”
Oops.
“Nothing! Just, um, an…inside joke! With myself!”
Adrien’s eyes narrow suspiciously, but he plays along. “Ooookay…”
“Anyway! Uh! Do you want to stay at my house? We can tell my parents we’re having a sleepover, which is actually true, now that I think of it—”
“We could?” And the look on his face is so happy, so excited, that she remembers that he was never allowed sleepovers. Her smile wavers, but she plows on.
“Yes! We could, um, watch a movie.” By now they’re out on the sidewalk, and while she speaks she checks for people watching, trusts that if she misses someone the magic will take care of it (at least, if they’re not a miraculous user), takes a breath to whisper “spots off”, and continues, “My parents have a huge stash, we could look through that and see what you’d like.”
(Tikki, who knows they need a moment alone—or at least want one—dives into Marinette’s purse.)
“Ooh, do they have rom-coms?”
“Of course! Who wouldn’t?”
“My dad, that’s for sure,” Adrien quips, and their happy mood wobbles a little. “But then again, he’s never had very good taste.”
“I mean, those orange shoes of yours!” she agrees. “Terrible fashion sense!”
“Hey, I picked those out!”
“You—oh my god .” She laughs. Their banter is familiar (and comforting, in a way) and she relaxes, and the fact that he knows who she is and that she just detransformed in front of him doesn’t seem as important anymore.
This is Chat Noir, her partner, and this is okay.
(This is great, actually, but she doesn’t want to jinx it.)
A minute passes, and somehow their hands have found each other. Neither seems to notice.
Marinette subconsciously squeezes Adrien’s hand three times, like she did with her parents as a child. It means I love you , and there’s nothing else she wants to say to him more.
I-love-you.
One-two-three.
Adrien remembers sleeping in his mom’s bed as a child, too scared of thunderstorms or his father’s frustration to sleep in his own. They’d take turns squeezing each other’s hand until Adrien finally fell asleep, the pulse of their hands tapping out a waltz.
I-love-you.
And when Marinette squeezes his hand, a reassuring rhythm in three-four time, he’s hit with a wave of sadness and nostalgia and too many more emotions to count—but the most important one, the most prominent one, is love.
In this moment, he knows that Marinette is the opposite of his father. She is never going to leave him, at least not intentionally—he’s sure of it.
In this moment, he realizes that she loves him.
His eyes well up. What had he done to deserve Marinette’s love?
To deserve the love of Ladybug, Paris’s own superhero?
He thanks the stars and any deity that may be listening for this wonderful, beautiful, amazing girl by his side and the abundance of love in her heart.
Marinette hears Adrien choke back a sob, and she turns in surprise to see his eyes filled with tears. She jerks her hand away. “Sorry sorry sorry, I’m so sorry—”
Adrien stares at her, confused. “What for?”
“I thought—” Now it’s Marinette’s turn to look confused. “I thought maybe you didn’t want me to hold your hand?”
His eyes soften in understanding. “No, no, it wasn’t that.”
Oh.
“Oh,” she says. Tentatively: “What—what was it then?” She’s not quite sure yet if this is an okay subject.
“It’s…nothing,” he says, but she sees in his face that he’s still hiding something.
“Okay,” she says, “you don’t have to tell me.”
He seems surprised— goddammit, Gabriel. “I don’t?”
“No! You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, chaton. I don’t know what all Gabriel taught you, but it seems to me that whatever he said was wrong.”
“But—”
“He was wrong, Adrien. About you, about the world, about your friends.”
She’s still thinking about Gabriel and everything he’s done to Adrien, what he’s done to his mental health and how he’s hurt him, his son—
And she’s so preoccupied that she doesn’t notice that Adrien’s crying until he sweeps her into his arms and holds her in a strong embrace.
“Thank you,” he murmurs into her hair. “Thank you so, so much, Marinette.”
She hugs him back just as tight.
After what seems to be eternity, they break apart. “C’mon, kitty,” Marinette says. “Let’s go home.”
Home.
Adrien knows he has a home now, and he never wants to leave it again.
As long as he has Marinette, he’ll never be alone.
You and me against the world, milady.