Work Text:
Collect baselines. Determine treatment. Find out if the treatments worked.
Clinical assessment was an ongoing process, Dr. Laura S. Pemberley knew, but she’d never expected to be treating not just one teenage superhero in her specialized therapy practice for Akuma victims, but two.
And she never, ever expected the pair of them to be so frustrating.
All of the heroes’ therapy sessions were insisted on by the mayor himself and would be paid through a special tax fund established by the concerned citizens of the city. It was a conflict of interest for Dr. Pemberley to treat both of the darling Heroes of Paris, but a panel had determined that it would be best for them to be treated by the same therapist to protect their identities.
She was just glad the kids had agreed.
“And she’s just the sweetest friend of mine, the first friend I made all by myself,” Chat was saying during his fourth session, his green eyes filled with rapture. Dr. Pemberley thought absurdly that if they grew any rounder or glowed any more brightly, he’d outshine the sun. “Mari--I mean, Marie is probably the only person I’m truly comfortable around.”
Chat Noir wouldn’t reveal his identity, but unlike Ladybug, he had no qualms about talking about his civilian life. For their first session, Dr. Pemberley had given Chat a semi-structured clinical interview, a face-to-face meeting where she asked him a preset list of questions about his life. Now she was following up on things about him that had caught her interest.
A friend who made him comfortable in his civilian life was certainly worth following up on, especially since Chat had gushed about Ladybug for the past three sessions in an entirely superficial way. There was hurt buried there, though he didn’t seem at all interested in exploring that.
Yet.
Dr. Pemberley made a note about ‘Marie’ on her blue-lined, yellow legal pad. “And why does ‘Marie’ make you feel comfortable?”
“Basically,” Chat started, and Dr. Pemberley knew he was about to launch into a complicated story that wasn’t basic at all, “she’s brave, compassionate, and loyal--she brought me soup when I was sick recently and didn’t take no for an answer when my father’s assistant turned her away at the door.”
Chat cupped his own cheeks, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I really like playing Ultimate Mecha Strike 3 with her, too. I’ve only been in her room a couple of times, but she and her family have always welcomed me with open arms. And her dad--her parents are bakers--makes some killer croissants.”
Bakers. Dr. Pemberley made another note, compiling quite the bullet point list about Marie. “Bravery, compassion, and loyalty are some of the qualities you mentioned that attracted you to Ladybug as well.”
Chat’s smile, so radiant before, flickered a bit. If Dr. Pemberley had been fresh out of grad school, she never would have caught the way his expression shifted into something entirely fake, into something she privately called his ‘polite model smile.’
He’d worn that smile during all of his discussions of Ladybug. “Uh, yeah. Ladybug is brave and compassionate, too.”
But not loyal. Interesting. Dr. Pemberley tapped her pen on her sheaf of papers. “I want to let you know, Chat Noir, that even though my treatment of both of you can be seen as a conflict of interest, I will keep what you say to me in confidence. Ladybug will never know what conversation passes between you and me.”
Chat’s fingers twitched on his face. His smile flickered again. “Yeah?”
Dr. Pemberley uncrossed her legs, presenting her body language as open to listening to him. She didn’t want to appear vulnerable, merely open, an adult he could trust. “You seemed to tell me what a Parisian would expect to hear you say about Ladybug and not what your truth was.”
“What do you want me to say about Ladybug?” Chat’s gaze flicked to the glass sliding door leading to Dr. Pemberley’s balcony. He seemed both eager to please and eager to run away, but Dr. Pemberley didn’t miss the fact that he’d refused to talk about Ladybug at all.
In the three and half sessions she’d treated him, Dr. Pemberley had come to realize some irrefutable truths about Chat Noir: he was a consummate liar. He’d perfected his model smile at a young age and avoided showing his true face to anyone, fleeing being vulnerable and open and even counting on people not to see through the masks he chose to wear.
The lies were what had broken up his past relationship with ‘Kayla’ and threatened to prevent him from having a successful romantic and familial relationships in the future. He lied to everyone, even and especially himself.
He couldn’t be genuine with anyone, and Dr. Pemberley found that the saddest part about this young boy’s life was that the majority of the people in it didn’t even want him to be.
“I want you to tell me whatever you’d like to tell me about Ladybug,” Dr. Pemberley said, offering him a soft, sad smile. She knew that by offering him that out, he would take it, but she hoped that he’d surprise her.
“Ladybug is great!” Chat was back to gushing again, and Dr. Pemberley suppressed a sigh. “Did you know we were voted couple of the year?”
“I did, yes.” Clearly he wasn’t ready to talk about how Ladybug had hurt him yet, so Dr. Pemberley changed tactics. “Would you mind telling me more about Marie?”
Dr. Pemberley peered at Chat carefully, seeing the way his fake smile slipped into something sunny. Talking about Marie was the only time Dr. Pemberley had seen a crack in the model facade, the clown that he presented to Paris as a whole and Ladybug in particular.
The only thing he never lied about was his desire to be loved, and he wanted to be loved so desperately that he presented himself as a perfect, helpful person who always put everyone else’s feelings above his own.
But when he spoke about Marie… His voice took on a soft, quiet timbre that Dr. Pemberley recognized intuitively as loving.
“Marie helps people.” Chat spoke with such awe and reverence that Dr. Pemberley made a note. Chat genuinely wants to help people, and admires people who do. “I want to be like her.”
Dr. Pemberley smiled at the gentleness in his tone, the first truth he’d ever told her. Marie was the key to this boy’s heart, and she’d have to bring her up as often as possible. “I see.”
A mental status examination, Dr. Pemberley recalled from grad school, was used to organize the information collected during the interview and systematically evaluate the client through a series of observations and questions.
As she mentally conducted one on Ladybug during their fifth session, Dr. Pemberley checked off her boxes:
“So you see, Dr. Pemberley,” Ladybug insisted, holding her hand over her spotted heart, “I’m fine.”
Appearance and behavior: Ladybug was well-groomed and her body language, though tightly controlled, was calm.
Ladybug shook her head in response to Dr. Pemberley’s question, peering at her strangely. “Yes, Chat’s fine. He attends patrol faithfully and I promised him I wouldn’t miss them myself.”
Thought process and content: Ladybug’s speech was organized and she held no false beliefs outside her usual thoughts that Chat wasn’t hurting, and those were from deliberate ignorance rather than mental illness.
“No, I’m just fine.” Ladybug flexed her fingers on her knees. “I mean, the responsibility of being Ladybug might be getting to me, but don’t worry! I can handle it.”
Mood and affect: Ladybug was neither hopeless nor elated, though she did seem overburdened.
“My favorite Akuma?” Ladybug wrinkled her nose, appearing disgusted, which intrigued Dr. Pemberley. “I remember every single one, of course, but picking a favorite seems uncouth, don’t you think?”
Intellectual functioning: Ladybug’s speech and memory were functioning and intact.
“Yeah, the school year is just starting.” Ladybug sighed, resting her chin in her palm. “I don’t want to talk about school; I might give something away.”
Awareness of surroundings: Ladybug knew where she was, when it was, and who she was.
Similar to her sessions with Chat, what interested Dr. Pemberley the most was when Ladybug would let her feelings slip about ‘Adam,’ clearly a boy in Ladybug’s class whom she had a massive crush on.
“How was Adam today?” Dr. Pemberley asked after the examination, clicking her pen open. “Did your plan to confess work?”
Ladybug pinked under the mask, ducking her head and making her red hair ribbons bounce. “Oh, uh, Adr--Adam’s fine, too. I tried confessing, but… A bird pooped on me right when I opened my mouth to tell him.”
Dr. Pemberley blinked, totally stunned. This bird had the worst timing. “What a stroke of bad luck.”
“Good luck or bad luck.” Ladybug shrugged, clearly trying to pass herself off as unbothered. “Who can tell?”
“Marie started talking to me, but… I don’t know why she always trips over her words when she talks to me.” Chat rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his old habit. “She doesn’t do that with everyone else.”
Dr. Pemberley decided to take a chance. Chat was being honest with her again, so she decided to pursue this avenue. “And how does that make you feel, Chat Noir?”
Chat laughed, shaking his head and refusing to answer. “That’s the quintessential therapist question, isn’t it?”
“Do you think she likes or dislikes you?”
Chat’s chest shuddered. He curled in on himself slightly, his shoulders tense and ratcheted up around his ears. His voice was quiet and contrite when he murmured, “I hope she likes me.”
“I’m sure she does.” Dr. Pemberley was quick to reassure him, not wanting to lose the thread. “You are a human being deserving of love.”
Chat laughed again, much more awkward than before. “Where did that come from? I don’t think I’m undeserving of love.”
Lies.
Dr. Pemberley made a note. “Tell me what happened with Marie today.”
“The weirdest thing!” Chat threw his arms in the air, all signs of vulnerability extinguished. “She was trying to tell me something important, and a bird pooped on her!”
Dr. Pemberley sat up straight. No way. There was no way two girls were pooped on by a bird while trying to confess to their crushes.
Could Ladybug be Marie? The thought was tantalizing. Ladybug’s romance was like a soap opera, or at least a kids’ show, and Dr. Pemberley had been entertained for a while now.
But Ladybug being Marie…
It’s a square. Dr. Pemberley almost cackled right then and there, preventing herself from acting unprofessional out of sheer dint of effort. It’s a love square.
She couldn’t let Chat Noir or Ladybug know of her suspicion. She’d just have to keep it to herself.
The Love Square, as Dr. Pemberley had termed the relationship between Chat, Ladybug, and their respective civilian identities, soon grew tiresome.
Ladybug kept coming up with increasingly convoluted plans to confess, and they never worked out due to some manner of anti-serendipitous events.
Chat continued to lie about everything but ‘Marie,’ and lie so smoothly, Dr. Pemberley would have questioned herself if she wasn’t so familiar with the concept of gaslighting, or making people question their own sanity with lies.
So Dr. Pemberley encouraged him to talk about Marie more and more and Ladybug less and less, until he was ready to tell his truth about how she’d hurt him.
“I don’t know why Marie was so sad when I found her after the Akuma today.” Chat kicked his feet idly, thudding against Dr. Pemberley's beige couch. “She clearly had something important to tell me. I just wish I knew what.”
I know what, but I cannot tell you.
Dr. Pemberley wondered if even Chat’s hangdog look was a calculated move designed to engender pity in her. How much credit to give Chat for his manipulative actions was always on Dr. Pemberley’s mind.
His lies were certainly deliberate and certainly manipulative, but she suspected he’d lied so long to everyone around him--and especially to himself--that he didn’t appear to have conscious control over them. Telling the truth seemed like more effort than lying to him, which came as easily as breathing and was just as crucial to his well-being.
He likely doesn’t even recognize how manipulative he is.
And it was her job to educate him and offer him the opportunity to change the behavior, but she had to take it slow.
“And how did her being sad make you feel, Chat Noir?”
“Oh!” Chat glanced up, seemingly startled, but soon slipped into a fake model smile, one that surprisingly didn’t hide the tightness of his eyes. Was he starting to trust his therapist? “I’m fine. Her being sad doesn’t make me sad.”
Dr. Pemberley steepled her fingers together and placed the indexes against her lips. “So far you’ve been honest about everything concerning Marie and nothing else, so this new choice to lie worries me.”
So much for going slow.
Chat’s jaw dropped but then, despite his newly acquired smile, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Dr. Pemberley had started registering his microexpressions as insights as loud as another client standing on the rooftops and shouting.
“But I can’t lie!” He placed a hand on his heart, radiating sincerity. “Marie hates liars.”
“And that bothers you?”
Chat scrubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his nervous tell. “Why would it bother me? I’m not a liar.”
“And if you were,” Dr. Pemberley said as neutrally as she could, going in for the kill, “she would hate you?”
Stony, sullen silence met Dr. Pemberley. Chat stayed completely still, his expression flat. He seemed neither surprised nor angry, but based on the way his normally effervescent eyes were glassy with genuine hurt, Dr. Pemberley guessed he was both.
She couldn't blame the boy for being angry. The only other person who'd demanded honesty from him was 'Kayla,' and he couldn't even give her that.
His strained whisper was all Dr. Pemberley could ever hope for. "You're not very nice to me."
Dr. Pemberley smiled, deeply happy. Now the healing could begin. "That's the most honest you've ever been with me."
Chat's gaze once again flicked to her balcony. He may as well have been screaming his desire to run away. "I don't know what you're talking about. Anyway, I think there's an Akuma out there, so…"
Dr. Pemberley uncrossed her legs, leaning forward. She and Chat weren't seated anywhere near each other, but she still felt that in her efforts to show him her interest in what he thought she was intruding on his space. The way he pressed his back into the couch cushions only confirmed her hypothesis.
"I don't hear an Akuma alert." She easily could have ordered him to stay, but that would have only ensured that he fled. Chat respected his father--and other adults--just enough to anticipate scraps of affection but not enough to do what the man so callously demanded.
“Chat,” she started, trying to speak firm but gentle words. “I know you don’t trust me. I know that it’s hard to trust anyone, especially since people have disappointed you all your life and forced you into roles you were unprepared for. But I genuinely want to help you, and I can’t do that unless you let your guard down and stop giving me the facade.”
Chat was back to being sunny again, all traces of eye tightness gone. “What facade?”
Dr. Pemberley spread her hands, signifying to him that she was willing to listen. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Chat laced his fingers together between his knees and lowered his head. From the flickering in his microexpressions, Dr. Pemberley guessed he was having a conversation with himself and not liking the outcome.
When he raised his eyes to her again, Dr. Pemberley was stunned by how haunted they were. His defeated whisper rasped across his lips like a wire brush on a sheet of copper. “Do you really think she’ll hate me?”
Dr. Pemberley paused, getting her thoughts in order. “Not, I think, if you tell her the truth.”
Chat swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I don’t know how?”
His question was less a question and more a plea. Dr. Pemberley wanted to wrap the broken boy up in a hug, but the demands of her professionalism forced her to stuff the impulse. So instead, she held a hand out to him, palm up, to show that she was willing to help.
“That’s what I can teach you.”
Ladybug fidgeted on Dr. Pemberley’s beige couch, systematically shredding a tissue the doctor had handed her previously. Her gaze was blown wide and her teeth chattered. If Dr. Pemberley didn’t know better, she’d think the superheroine was cold.
“Ladybug?” Dr. Pemberley tried, only to see Ladybug’s eyes shoot up to meet hers. “I know you’re not okay, so I won’t ask. But you’ve been like this since you sat down ten minutes ago despite my efforts to calm you, and I’m concerned. What’s wrong?”
Ladybug shook her head, once, more a jerking motion than anything else. “I can’t do it.”
Ah, now this was an opening. “Do what?”
Ladybug threw her arms in the air. “Everything! I have school and fashion commissions and my family and my friends--and I lie to all of them--and of course feeding the Kwamis and letting them out of the Miracle Box once in a while to, you know, breathe, and of course the whole Akuma thing…”
Anxious energy spent, Ladybug sagged down into the couch, cradling her head in her hands. “I can’t do it, Dr. Pemberley. Everyone’s counting on me and there’s so much pressure, I just… I can’t anymore.”
Dr. Pemberley felt like jumping up and down and whooping. Ladybug had always assured her not to worry, that she was fine, and finally, twenty sessions after their first one, did she break and spill forth the dam of burdens that she’d been holding back.
“I understand,” Dr. Pemberley said instead, keeping her tone carefully neutral. “I mean, I don’t understand; I can’t possibly. Given how much pressure you’re under at such a young age, I don’t think anyone but Chat Noir could understand the precarious position you’re in.”
“Chat Noir?” Ladybug raised her head, her eyes just as haunted as Chat Noir’s had been a few sessions ago, before Dr. Pemberley had started making real progress. “He’s fine.”
Dr. Pemberley wanted to scream. She drew a breath through her nose instead. “As his therapist, I am not allowed to disclose his emotional state.”
Ladybug’s eyes widened and her mouth worked silently. Horror etched itself on her face. “He’s not fine?”
Dr. Pemberley decided to ask permission to share her thoughts, just in case Ladybug didn’t want her opinion and was merely ranting. “Do you want to know what I think about your situation, Ladybug?”
Ladybug gave her a hunted look. “What?”
“I think you need to rely on others more.” Dr. Pemberley tapped her pen on her pad of papers. “You have so many friends who would be willing to help you, and Chat Noir himself, of course.”
Dr. Pemberley leaned forward, trying to impress upon Ladybug her point. “And what you’re going through? Is not only unfair, it’s impossible for one person to handle. Especially at your age, with no resources.”
“I have… Alya.”
Dr. Pemberley immediately scribbled down the name, thrilled that Ladybug was opening up to her. Finally. “Alya?”
“My friend.” Ladybug wrapped her arms around herself in a protective, hugging gesture, shielding herself from the world and rocking back and forth. “I’ve told her my identity.”
“Aside from Shadowmoth potentially making her a target, I can't see any downside to that."
Dr. Pemberley offered Ladybug a soft, genuine smile. Then Dr. Pemberley frowned a little, creasing her brow. She wanted to show Ladybug that as her therapist, she was taking the situation seriously.
"You need support, Ladybug. Is Alya the only other person you've told?"
Ladybug nodded morosely. "Who else can I tell?"
Dr. Pemberley decided then and there to take a chance. "What about Chat Noir?"
"Chat?" Ladybug wrinkled her nose, drawing further into herself. "No way! I can't tell Chat."
"Why not?" Dr. Pemberley was inordinately curious. "He understands what you're going through better than anyone."
Ladybug nibbled on her lower lip, tapping her index fingers together. "I'll consider it."
Ladybug hadn’t informed Chat Noir of her identity, as far as Dr. Pemberley could tell--Chat would have mentioned it at the very least--but she did start relying on him more and more.
Apparently they’d had some sort of Talk on one of their recent patrols, and as a result, Chat’s gushing about Ladybug became real. He’d promised not to lie to Dr. Pemberley and had thus far succeeded, though he didn’t even come close to exploring the hurt he’d stuffed about Ladybug earlier.
He did, however, continue to adore Marie, so much that Dr. Pemberley didn’t know how he could have missed the fact that he was in love with the same girl.
“And today Marie brought me cookies--well, not me, not me in particular, but the whole class--and they were so good and she said she was thinking about Chat when she was frosting them so that’s why they were black and neon green and I don’t know why she would have thought about Chat when she was making cookies but I’m so happy I could burst!”
Outpouring of affection over, Chat drew a deep breath for the first time since he’d started speaking. “Isn’t that great, Dr. Pemberley?” His eyes shone with unmitigated pleasure. “She’s great, isn’t she?”
Dr. Pemberley chuckled, putting him even more at ease. She was by turns pleased at his happiness and exasperated by his ignorance. “Yes, Chat. She sounds fantastic.”
Chat tapped his index fingers together, expressing shyness and hesitance rather than his normal playful exuberance. “Do you think… Do you think she likes me? Chat, me, I mean.”
Here it is. Dr. Pemberley knew she only had one shot at this. “I do, Chat. I think she likes you very much.”
“Okay, cool.” Chat beamed, radiating complete and utter joy. “She’s just a great friend.”
Dr. Pemberley nearly groaned aloud.
The fifty-second weekly session with Ladybug arrived, signaling a year’s worth of therapy with Dr. Pemberley. Ladybug had grown more and more able to handle her burdens, relying on temporary heroes and making some of them permanent Holders.
She still hadn’t told Chat her identity, which, after hearing the fifty-second plan for ‘Marie’ to confess to ‘Adam,’ drove Dr. Pemberley absolutely bonkers.
“And I was just going to confess to him when the stupid Akuma hit,” Ladybug complained, shaking her head and making her hair ribbons bounce erratically. “I mean, I just can’t catch a break. All I want is for him to love me. The only way this would be worse was if Adr--Adam was Chat Noir.”
That was it. The final straw.
Dr. Pemberley snapped like a dry bone.
“He is Chat Noir!” Dr. Pemberley had never yet raised her voice to any client, and wasn’t about to start now, but her whisper came out through clenched teeth. She gripped her legal pad with tight fingers and whitened brown knuckles, tempted to throw it at at the wall but refraining. She was already being unprofessional as it was. “He’s already in love with you!”
Ladybug’s jaw dropped, her eyes going curiously blank, but Dr. Pemberley continued her tirade.
“You are Marie, his crush he’s gushed about for the better part of a year. And he is Adam, the boy you’ve been trying to confess to for so many years of your young life.”
Dr. Pemberley’s chest heaved with frustrated breaths. “You’re in a square. I just cannot believe you both haven’t seen it yet.”
Ladybug stared ahead at Dr. Pemberley, white as a sheet. Then she burst into raucous laughter.
“Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste? No way!” Ladybug slapped her knee, giving herself completely over to the apparent hilarity of the situation. She laughed awkwardly for a few minutes more, meeting Dr. Pemberley's stony gaze. "No… No way.”
"Think about it, Ladybug." Dr. Pemberley consciously released her legal pad, trying not to appear angry but sincere. "Blond, green eyes, lithe build. Have you ever seen Adrien and Chat Noir in the same place?"
Ladybug's hand drifted to her mouth, her eyes bugging out of her head. "N-No way. Chat couldn't be Adrien."
She furrowed her brow, looking away for a moment before glancing back at Dr. Pemberley, who almost crowed in triumph at the way Ladybug’s face took on an open, wondering expression. "You said he likes me?"
“He does.” Dr. Pemberley nodded rapidly, showing more emotion in that moment than in the year that she’d treated either hero. “Very much. What will you do with this information?”
“I…” Ladybug nibbled on her lower lip, clearly thinking the question over. “I’ll reveal my identity to him. It’s not fair that I know and he doesn’t, right?”
Dr. Pemberley’s heart sang. She sat as still as a statue when all she wanted to do was leap for joy.
“I think that would be wise.”
“Dr. Pemberley!” Chat burst into her office at the start of his next session, his belt tail lashing and his eyes bright with elation. The door rattled on its hinges, but he was so excited, that could mean only one thing to Dr. Pemberley. “She revealed her identity to me! We’re going out!”
And with that, Dr. Laura S. Pemberley, specialized therapist for Akuma victims and the two Heroes of Paris, solved the Love Square.