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If you had told Chat a few months ago that he would be the one that suggested he and Ladybug start doing separate patrols, he wouldn’t have believed you. Yet lately he had been spending less and less time with his lady (no, he corrected mentally with only a slight pang, not his lady-- she had proven that, hadn’t she?). It didn’t start out as a conscious decision, but it was getting to the point where he couldn’t bear the betrayal he felt whenever he saw her. It had disheartened him even more how easily she let him slip away.
But wasn’t that the point? Wasn’t that the reason he was distancing himself? It was she who didn’t want him around anymore, Ladybug who didn’t trust Chat Noir . Chat was obnoxious. Chat was too silly. Chat was annoying .
Hot tears pricked at the back of his throat as he passed the Eiffel Tower, but he just swallowed them as he had become accustomed to doing. So many times he had wanted to confront his partner, to ask her why Alya and Nino were allowed what he wasn’t, why he was continuously left in the dark. But every time he was about to approach her, all he could think about was hours spent waiting on a candlelit rooftop. How she held so much power over him that it was made entirely worth it by the minutes-long conversation they held there at the end of the night, the one where she called him her friend. The one where she had told him how much that friendship meant to her.
Well, said that treasonous voice in the back of his head, the one that had been getting louder every day, apparently he had accepted the truth of her words too readily.
Chat Noir was quick and efficient with these new lonely patrols. There was no Ladybug to distract him with her teasing, to goad him into a game of tag. Chat did not stop at their favorite crepes place or pose for pictures with pedestrians. His focus was on searching for akumas, and on trying to forget everything else about being Chat Noir. So laser-focused was Chat that he almost missed the quiet sobs coming from a familiar balcony.
One of his cat ears twitched and he almost tripped as he landed on the rooftop across the street from the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Fortunately (or unfortunately), it appeared Marinette was too upset to notice his clumsy landing. Chat’s heart broke when he spotted the girl with her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking. There wasn’t much that could keep his optimistic classmate down, at least not for long. She must really be going through something for her to be in such distress.
Chat agonised for a moment about whether he should go to her. After all, maybe she wanted to be alone. Maybe he would just make things worse. But he couldn’t just stand there and do nothing while his friend suffered!
Quietly he made his way over to her, not wanting to startle her, softened his landing on the balcony. Not for the first time, he appreciated the coziness of it. Marinette had a way of making wherever she was seem inviting. So different from his own space, his room, the size of which only served to emphasize his loneliness. The night sky was a deep blue and the silhouette of the cityscape was beautiful. What could make the girl so sad on such a night, in such a place?
He cleared his throat, and when Marinette shot to her feet and into a defensive position, he winced. So much for not startling her.
“CHAT NOIR?” she squeaked, rubbing furiously at her eyes with her sleeves. Up close, it was clear she had been crying for a while, her face red and puffy. This didn’t stop her from peppering him with questions. “How long have you been there? Why are you here? Is there an akuma? Do you need my help?”
Did he need her help? This girl was too sweet for her own good. He cautiously took her hand, giving her time to pull back if she wanted. She let him take it.
“Hey, no, everything’s fine,” he said, rubbing his gloved thumb over her fingers. “I was just on patrol when I heard a purr etty damsel in distress.” It was a flirty pun, but he made sure to make his tone soft and nonthreatening. “Emphasis on distress. Are you okay? You’re not hurt are you? Is there anything I can do?”
This question served to be Marinette’s breaking point, and Chat cursed himself as her mouth trembled and a fresh set of tears came to her eyes. “I-” Marinette choked on her words.
Chat took a step back. “Oh god I’m so sorry, Princess. I can leave, I just--”
But then Marinette lunged and grasped his hand back with both of hers, and she was so so close now, and her hair smelled like strawberries, and she was crying again. And really, what else could Chat do but embrace her. He said nothing, just let her cry into his arms for what could have been minutes or hours. Finally she sat them both down on the floor, and pulled away only slightly so she could grab his hand again. She refused to look him in the eyes, only stared at their laps.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly enough that if Chat hadn’t had super senses he probably wouldn’t have heard her. He rushed to assure her she had nothing to be sorry about, but she shook her head. “I- I’ve made so many mistakes. Sloppy mistakes. I thought what I was doing was right, but... I’ve alienated everyone closest to me.” She sighed. “I’ve asked people to do things that-- that weren’t fair to them. My best friend,” Her voice wavered. “My best friend won’t even talk to me.”
Chat Noir frowned. That couldn’t be right. He wasn’t the most observant person, but he would have noticed if Marinette and Alya had a falling out, right? In fact, the two girls had seemed thick as thieves lately, attached at the hip, whispering and sharing secrets even more frequently than usual. (If Adrien was slightly jealous of their ability to have such a close friendship, that was neither here nor there.)
Still, he could focus on that later. Right now, Marinette needed him. “I’m sure Alya will come around. She can be stubborn, but she really does care about you.”
Marinette wore a confused pout. “A-alya?”
Oh right, he probably shouldn’t know so much about her friendships as Chat Noir. “Ah, I mean, yeah, Alya… the uh, ladyblogger? You two were friends, right?”
This caused Marinette to sink further in on herself and press the heels of her hands to her forehead. “Yeah,” she said glumly. “Were.” Shoot, he’d said something wrong, hadn’t he?
“Uh yeah,” he tried again. “Like I said, she seems like you’re really important to her. I’m sure the two of you will be able to patch things up.”
Marinette didn’t respond for a while and the longer things were silent, the worse Chat felt. He’d really done it now. The fact that he didn’t exactly know what he had done didn’t matter. He should just leave right now, but Marinette had made it clear she hadn’t wanted him to go, and really he couldn’t actually bear to leave her--
“You...” Marinette’s face scrunched adorably, as if trying to figure something out. “You’re a superhero.”
In any other situation he might have teased her, said something like “what makes you say that?” or “so I’ve been told,” but tonight he just nods.
“So you know something about responsibility.” That was an understatement. “I have so much to do Chat, and there is no room for error. One mistake could ruin everything, for everyone. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen--” she cut herself off short here. “And for a long time I’ve thought, okay, if I hurt people with the choices I make, it’s worth it, because I can save them from being hurt way worse in the future. It’s worth it for them to be upset with me now, too, because it keeps them safe.”
Chat’s head was reeling. What on earth could she possibly be talking about? “Mari, what-- are you okay? If you’re involved in something that heavy, I can help you. We could go to the police--” She barked out a laugh at that. “Or I could… do something?” Chat ducked his head and forced her to look him in the eye. She was so clearly exhausted, so clearly over her head in something . “Just, please, tell me what’s going on and I can help you.”
He didn’t know what he was expecting in response to that, but it definitely wasn’t for Marinette to laugh hysterically, take a cushion to her face and let out a muffled scream. Unsure what to do, Chat sat there uselessly, gave his friend awkward pats on the back.
“Okay,” she said. Her voice was high-pitched when she emerged, and looked at him with a crazed gaze. “Okay. See that’s the thing . That’s the worst part . I can’t tell you. You’re the last person I can tell and it’s the worst. Because now, now you’ll think I don’t trust you, or don’t like you, but it’s actually because I like and trust you that I can’t tell you. I trust and like you so much , and I can’t lose that . I can’t lose you .”
“You won’t,” Chat said automatically, without hesitation.
“You can’t know that!”
This argument was growing frustrating. And strangely familiar. Without thinking, Chat snapped: “What about now, though?” He gestured to their serene surroundings, the waxing moon above them, the twinkle of the city’s lights below, Marinette’s eyes, wide and blue. “Isn’t now enough? Why is some future worth more than the present? I want you to feel safe, Marinette. I want you to be happy, now. To me, your happiness today isn’t worth any less than your happiness tomorrow.”
Marinette gaped, and Chat felt himself overcome with regret and guilt. Here was letting his own feelings ruin things again. Letting his own issues get between him and helping his friend. “I’m sorry,” said Chat weakly, beginning to stand. “I should--”
“Don’t you dare,” whispered Marinette harshly, and Chat had never seen her eyes look like that. Wild and calculating, decisive. She looked remarkably like--
“Tikki, spots on!”