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Marinette stirred as she felt the room grow uncomfortably hot. She felt someone place a feather light kiss to her temple, felt someone's breath fan across her forehead as they whispered what she thought was, "I love you." Just like that, the heat was gone, and the room was comfortable enough to sleep again.
She shifted, trying to get into a comfortable position, only to yelp when her shoulder touched the mattress of the bed. Her eyes cracked open, revealing to her the hospital she was in. That was right. She wasn't home because she'd gotten hurt a week ago according to the doctors.
She thought back a week ago, when she'd riled up Chat Noir as she tried backing him into a corner. She remembered when he'd called his cataclysm. She didn't think he'd touch her with his destructive power. He would always use it as a threat, but use it on something else to distract her or to try to hurt her.
She remembered the piercing pain she felt, then everything had gone black.
She didn't know if Chat Noir saw her identity. She didn't know if Paris thought she was dead. She didn't know what anyone thought, or how anyone felt. Her parents knew, they had known since they'd caught her sneaking in from a late night akuma. Had they notified the doctor? Or maybe Adrien?
Then, Adrien walked into the room, twisting the silver ring on his finger. He always wore that, didn't he? Maybe it was a gift from his mother.
"Marinette," he whispered, his voice shaky.
She managed a small smile as he walked toward her. He fell to his knees, holding her hands in his as apologies rushed out of his mouth. He was crying, placing kisses on her knuckles over and over again.
She didn't understand why he was apologizing. He hadn't done anything wrong. He wasn't the one who cataclysmed her. Right?
Right?
"Adrien, why are you apologizing?" she finally asked.
He didn't meet her eyes, but let go of her hands. He quickly wiped away his tears, blinking rapidly as though that would make them go away. He still hadn't answered her. But maybe it was because he couldn't speak? That happened when people cried a lot, right? That had to have been it.
"Adrien?" she asked again, growing anxious.
Slowly, his eyes met hers. "I..." He stopped, glancing away and shaking his head. "This isn't the best time for this."
Not the best time for what? What was he hiding? "Adrien?"
He sighed, his lip twitching toward a frown. "Marinette, I'm the one who did this to you." He flinched, even though she didn't say anything. He looked down at his hands, finally taking off the silver ring he'd been twisting the entire time. "Please take this," he whispered, "I don't want it. I don't want to help him anymore. I don't want to hurt you."
Marinette stared at the ring as he pressed it into her palm and stood up. "I'm sorry," he said again, as though it were the only thing he could say. He looked as though he was going to kiss her forehead, but he backed away at the last second. "I'm sorry." He turned and started to walk away.
"Wait!" He stopped when he heard her outcry. Once he turned to face her, she asked, "Why did you do it? Why did you help him?"
"I didn't have much of a choice. He wanted to bring her back." She immediately knew who he was taking about. "I'm sorry," he said again.
It wasn't until he left that she knew who had said, "I love you," when she'd been half-asleep.
It wasn't until a month after that day that she'd been discharged from the hospital. She hadn't seen Adrien since that day. The doctor had given her an ointment to help with the pain, but that was all they could really do. Tikki said that there would be something in the books Master Fu had left her that should help.
When Marinette asked Tikki if she should see how Adrien was doing, Tikki had glowered at her, but said it was her decision to make. So, late that night, Marinette transformed to go to the Agreste Mansion. She knew it was the most dangerous place she could possibly go, but she needed to talk to Adrien. She needed to see the boy she loved, and the boy who hurt her.
Throughout the time she spent at the hospital she'd come to a few conclusions. Adrien was truly remorseful, after all, he'd given her his miraculous and given up the only chance he had to get his mother back. Gabriel Agreste was the worst, most foul human being she had ever met, and possibly the most foul she'd ever meet. And, despite everything, she still loved Adrien. She knew he wouldn't have hurt her if he knew who she'd been.
When she came to Adrien's window, she hadn't expected him to be hugging his knees as he sat on his bed. She hadn't expected his room to be such a mess. And she definitely hadn't expected his window to be unlocked.
She stepped inside quietly as his head shot up and he scrambled to get out of bed, wiping his eyes quickly. "Marinette?" he asked, voice hoarse and scratchy. He cleared his throat, rushing to her and moving her away from the moonlight. "You shouldn't be here, it's too dangerous for you. You need to go back home."
She called off her transformation, shaking her head stubbornly. "No, I need to be here with you."
"Why?" He looked at her quizzically, a hint of something self-depreciating in his voice.
"Because I love you, and I need to understand your side of the story."
He shook his head, furrowing his brow, "Marinette, I hurt you. You shouldn't care about me when I could've killed you," his voice broke as he backed away from her.
Marinette grew frustrated. Why couldn't he understand that she didn't hate him? Why couldn't he understand that she wanted to help him? "At least let me help you clean up your room."
He looked reluctant, but sighed, "Alright."
Adrien didn't understand why Marinette was still there with him, helping him clean his mess of a room. He hurt her. He could've killed her. Yet, she was still there as though nothing had ever happened.
Why didn't she understand that he was a danger to her? Why didn't she understand that just by being around him she could end up seriously hurt again? He didn't want her to get hurt because of him ever again, yet she was risking that.
She said she still loved him. But how could she? How could she possibly forgive him? Yes, it was true that he loved her with all that he had, but if letting her go would keep her safe, then he'd do just that.
As they finished cleaning, she sat on his couch and motioned for him to sit beside her. He was hesitant, so he left some space between them. Plenty of space.
"Adrien, I need you to understand that I know you don't want to hurt me. And I need you to understand that you can't keep blaming yourself for what happened."
Adrien stared at her, baffled for a moment before he blurted, "But I am the one at fault! How can I not blame myself? I'm the only one to blame!"
It was true. Sure, he'd been pressured by his father, but he didn't need to listen. Yes, he hadn't known who was under the mask, but he'd known she was just a teenager like him, trying to keep Paris safe. He knew that he was on the wrong side, he knew he was doing something wrong, but he never took action to go against his father. Because Adrien was such a coward, he hurt the girl he loved. How could she not see that?
"Adrien..."
"No, Marinette, I was the one who knew I as on the wrong side and didn't do anything about it. I should've stood up for I believed in. I should've told my father I didn't want to help anymore. I should've said that I had had enough of being the bad guy. I shouldn't have let him influence me into harming you." He turned away from her, curling into himself defensively. He took a shaky breath, trying to keep the tears that threatened to fall at bay.
He didn't expect to feel her arms wrap around him. Just like they used to when he'd speak of whatever his father said that would hurt him back when they'd been dating. He hadn't expected her to pull him onto her lap. He hadn't expected her to play with his hair soothingly. And he hadn't expected to break down so quickly.
"Adrien, I don't blame you for what happened. I riled you up, you retaliated. Neither of us knew our identities, and you were being pushed by your father. And I know you're truly sorry. I know that from your actions, from your words, and from the state your room was in." She paused, holding him tighter, "I still love you, and I want to help you." She pulled away, wiping his tears as she cupped his face, "And if you feel up to it, and you want to help me, I will be fine with that. I'm not planning on taking on Hawk Moth for at least another month. If you want to be partners--"
"Yes! I want to help you, Marinette. I can't let you do this on your own."
Her eyes darted around his face, as though she was searching for something. "Are you sure? What about you mother?"
He shook his head, "She would've hated to be brought back after knowing what my father and I did. It's time to let go."
He'd known his mother would've hated him and his father for what they were doing for months by then. They were terrorizing the citizens of Paris, destroying the city, and preying on innocent peoples emotions. They were doing something horrible, and he knew she would've hated it if she knew.
"Well, if your sure, then in a few days, can you come over to help me plan?"
"Of course."
Five years later...
Adrien hugged Marinette from behind, kissing her shoulder where he'd hurt her years prior as Chat Noir. She'd healed with the help of some ancient texts, but he'd made the habit of kissing the spot to comfort her and himself. To remember the challenges they'd overcome, and to remind himself that after all those years, she was still by his side.
"Hey, are you ok?" she asked him.
He turned around to face her, "Yeah, I'm just glad you're by my side." He leaned his forehead against hers as she smiled.
"Well, it's 'til death do us apart, isn't it?" she teased.
"I guess it is," he replied, shrugging. "You're stuck with me, bugaboo," he added with a wink.
"I wouldn't have it any other way," she said, kissing him softly.
"Me neither," he whispered.