Work Text:
Adrien stopped short when he turned the corner, his breath catching in his throat. Gentle thunder crackled overhead, and the sky split in two just as Adrien’s heart had months before. The clouds cried the gentle tears Adrien tried to fight back, because he knew if he started crying, he wouldn’t stop. He tried to move. Tried to force his limbs to flee. But suddenly, it was him who’d forgotten how to function.
He hadn’t expected to see her.
Not here, right around the corner from his usual grocery store. Not today, on the anniversary of their first kiss. Not in the rain, like the story of how she’d fallen for the boy with the umbrella all those years ago, or like the time she found him wandering the streets after Hawk Moth’s defeat and took him soaking wet into her arms, promising to never let go. Even their last date night, a few days before she forgot, had ended in the rain. They'd run the whole way home in a torrential downpour, laughing all the while.
The echoes of their laughter from that night seemed to reverberate in the air now, taunting Adrien.
He couldn’t do this.
His limbs finally remembered how to work, but it was too late. He moved without watching where he was going, stumbling right into another customer walking out of the store behind him. The man mumbled curse words under his breath, but Adrien scarcely noticed. Because when he glanced back to Ladybug, she was staring right at him.
“Hi,” Adrien said, unsure of what else to do. He shifted his paper bag of groceries—just a bottle of wine, some ice cream, and cheese for Plagg—to one arm and waved awkwardly.
Ladybug only gaped at him.
She knew who he was…sort of. She might not remember, but he had been there when she’d woken up. Just because he was furious at her for giving up the guardianship, her memories…just for giving up, period, didn’t mean he didn’t still love her. So, of course he’d been ready to stay by her side while she found her place in the world again. He’d been prepared to love her like he always had. After all, he’d fallen for her twice already. How hard could a third time really be?
She hadn’t wanted that.
Ladybug finally schooled her expression into a semblance of normalcy, but Adrien knew her too well to believe it. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, and her fingers seemed to grip her biceps so tightly that Adrien thought they might have bruised if it weren’t for the suit’s protection.
“Hello.” Her voice barely loud enough to be made out through the rain, but it made Adrien weak in the knees.
It took everything he had not to run—whether to her or away from her, he wasn’t entirely sure. Instead, he forced himself to respond the way he might if she were a stranger. Because while she knew who he was, she was unaware of what he knew.
“Can I help you?” he asked, not knowing what he wanted her answer to be.
“No, I…” She glanced up at the sky, then back to him. “I, uh…maybe I could help you? I mean, since it’s raining and all, and…maybe you have a long way to go. It’s not like I know where you live or anything—why would I know that?—and it’s probably hard to carry a bag and an umbrella at the same time, and, uh…never mind, I’m being stupid.” She let out a strangled laugh. “This is probably weird, and you probably don’t want some stranger helping with your groceries, superhero or not…haha!”
She didn’t move, though, and Adrien could only stare. His heart thumped painfully as he replayed her words. There was something so…Marinette about them. The way she rambled, the way she fiddled with her hands uncertainty. And yet, she hadn’t acted at all like his wife—the woman he knew wouldn’t hesitate to roll her eyes at his every pun, all the while trying to hide her grin. This wasn’t the woman he knew how to reassure with a soft smile and a few supportive words.
“I should go,” she said eventually. Adrien panicked when she began to move—it brought him right back to the last time she’d walked away.
No matter who she was now, he couldn’t bear to see her leave again.
“No! Wait! I, uh…” He closed his eyes just long enough to take a deep breath. “I could use the company, actually…M’lady.”
His last word was whispered, and he worried it was a mistake when he saw her eyes widen. He hadn’t called her that since…before. But after a few moments she gave him a timid smile. “Alright, then.”
Adrien watched, dazed, as she called for her Lucky Charm and ended up with an umbrella in her hands. She grinned widely, catching his eyes again. And suddenly Adrien was fourteen again, begging for every single scrap of attention she would give him and never getting enough.
His mind drew a blank as she walked over slowly but surely, and he was surprised he managed to keep hold of his groceries. He half-wondered if maybe he’d somehow died in the past few seconds, because surely only the fact he couldn’t move a muscle could explain how he managed to remain upright, clinging stubbornly to the paper bag. But even rigor mortis took a couple hours to set in, and being paralyzed by Ladybug? That was instantaneous.
She reached his side, and under the shelter of her umbrella Adrien almost missed the rain. At least that had felt real, whereas staring at Ladybug—close enough to see the freckles dotting her nose—that was something from a dream.
She seemed nervous again, nibbling on her lip and looking anywhere but directly into his eyes. “I, uh…maybe we should swap.”
“Huh?” Adrien said, none too elegantly.
“You’re uh…higher. Wait. Taller. That’s the word. Heh. So it might make sense for you to take me the groceries. I mean give me the groceries. Take the umbrella.”
Adrien’s stomach fluttered. Losing her memory hadn’t affected her speech; he knew that. And yet here she was, mixing up her words again. Because of him.
“You…have arms,” Adrien returned.
His heart pounded stupidly when Ladybug cocked her head to the side. God, and he’d just noticed her fudging her sentences.
“I mean long arms!” he clarified. Which wasn’t even true, really. Was it? He’d never though to measure her arms.
There were too many things he’d never gotten to do with her.
“Strong arms!” Adrien added. “So you won’t get sore holding it, I imagine.” At this rate, he would be dead soon—if the way he kept digging his own grave was anything to judge by.
“I…do have arms,” Ladybug replied. At least she wasn’t mocking him—she just seemed confused. “But you’re already bowing your head. You sure you don’t just want to swap?”
“Okay…” Adrien said, realizing there was no way he could get out of this without embarrassing himself further. “Just…don’t look inside, please?”
He didn’t want her to see the contents. Didn’t want her to ask him teasingly if that was meant to be his dinner. Didn’t want to have to tell her it was also his breakfast and lunch.
In Adrien’s defense, today was a rough one.
Ladybug softened. “I promise.”
Adrien nodded and handed her the bag. She balanced it in one arm then held the umbrella towards him. He made sure to grab the pole above the handle, not sure he could handle it if their fingers brushed. They set off without another word.
The rain started coming down harder as they walked, but the noise wasn’t enough to drown out the sound of his heart pounding in his ears or Ladybug’s soft breaths from beside him. The longer their silence extended, the more he wanted to break it, but he hadn’t the faintest idea how.
How much could he even say without giving away the fact that he knew who she was underneath the mask? How much could he say without letting his own identity slip?
Alya thought it was better this way, for now at least. Ladybug was overwhelmed. She had enough to figure out in her new life without the weight of their identities. Even if things were quiet for the heroes now, there was no telling when another villain might pop up, and Ladybug would have to be ready for that when the time came.
Adrien thought it was stupid, but he’d grown used to not having a say in these things.
Eventually, he couldn’t take the silence any longer. “So…what brings you out this afternoon?”
“Not much. Just patrol.”
“Oh.” They stopped at a light, and Adrien spent the time it took for the light to change debating what else to say. “Don’t you…usually do that with Chat Noir?”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Ladybug flinch. “Um, sort of. When he bothers to show up.”
Adrien’s stomach dropped. He knew he’d skipped out on a couple patrols, but he hadn’t stopped to think much about how it might affect her.
“He was supposed to come today?” Adrien asked.
He hadn’t committed to that, had he? He’d been a bit scatterbrained the past couple weeks, but surely he knew enough to keep this day free.
“No, not today,” Ladybug said. Adrien let out a sigh of relief as she continued. “Today I just…” She glanced sideways at him. “I wanted to go out on my own.” She paused. “It’s just that…I don’t think he likes me very much. Not lately. Not since…uh, never mind.”
Adrien sucked in a sharp breath. “He does, M—Ladybug. I can promise you that. He’s probably just…maybe it’s hard for him to be around you. Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt you, or to…maybe he thinks you’re better off without him.”
Ladybug stopped short, and Adrien had turn back to cover her with the umbrella again.
“You say that like you know him,” she said.
Adrien swallowed. “Why would you say that.”
Her eyes narrowed a touch. “Because most of Paris has no reason to believe anything’s different between us. You must know something.”
Shit. She had him there.
“I know he loves you,” Adrien whispered, his heart racing. “That’s what matters.”
Ladybug adjusted her grip on the grocery bag, tapping her fingers against the side. “You know who I am, don’t you?”
“I…”
“Adrien, please. Don’t lie to me. I…Alya’s trying her best. I get that. She’s the Guardian now, and that comes first. So if she thinks I don’t need to know everything…well, I tried to respect that. But I…” Her voice shook as she continued. “Do you know what it feels like to know somebody’s keeping things from you?”
“Yes.” You made me feel that way.
But that had been years ago. Before they’d set their secrets aside. Before they’d been happier than Adrien had ever dreamed of. Even if the woman standing before him now wasn’t exactly the same person he’d fallen in love with, there were still bits and pieces that were quintessentially her. And he couldn’t keep secrets from her—not if she was asking for answers.
“So…” Ladybug prompted.
“Yes,” Adrien said. “I know who you are, Princess. We were married—of course I knew.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “What else do you want to know?
Ladybug closed her eyes, a single tear slipping down one cheek. Adrien longed to wipe it away, but that wasn’t his place anymore.
“Were we happy?” she asked, blinking open her eyes. “Everyone says we were, but I…I never heard it from you.”
It was the last question Adrien had expected, and tears stung his eyes as he thought of how to respond.
“We were really happy, Bug. I can promise you that.” Adrien had expected the words to be reassure Ladybug, but her face crumpled.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry that I…” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “I wish I hadn’t done it.”
Me too, Adrien thought. But he didn’t want her to feel worse.
“You did what you thought was right," he said. "I’m not…I’m not mad.” Not anymore.
“I just…” Ladybug bowed her head. “I don’t think my old self knew I’d feel so alone.”
Adrien hadn’t thought his heart could break anymore, but it did. Because somehow, when he thought about her new life, he hadn’t factored in loneliness. Marinette had always had so many friends. She’d always been able to charm almost anyone. A world where she wasn’t surrounded with love and adoration was just…wrong.
But love wasn’t always the same as understanding. And love wasn’t always enough.
“You’re not alone,” Adrien whispered. He pulled her into his arms, holding her as tightly as he could with the groceries pressed between them and the umbrella still clutched in one of his hands. “It’s still you and me against the world, the way it’s always been.”
Ladybug broke down in his arms, and it didn’t take long for Adrien to do the same. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d felt safe to cry like this. To feel like if he came apart, someone would be there to catch him—Ladybug could still make him feel like that, even after everything. And maybe part of him might be crying in relief, too. Because he’d given up on her. On them.
He hadn’t expected a second chance.
Thunder cracked overhead, and Ladybug pulled away. She hastily wiped away her tears and let out a strained laugh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think…this isn’t why I offered to walk you home.”
“It’s alright,” Adrien croaked. He cleared his throat. “I don’t mind.”
Ladybug opened her mouth. Closed it. Slowly opened it again. “I’m still a mess,” she whispered. “And I can’t promise you I’ll ever…I don’t know what I want from you. I don’t know how much I want. I just know…I shouldn’t be able to miss somebody I don’t remember, but whenever I think of you…somehow I do.”
Adrien could understand, sort of. In some ways, he missed a person who no longer existed. But in others, his missed this Ladybug, too. Someone he scarcely even knew.
Before he could think up a reply, Ladybug shook her head. “I should…go, I think. I’ll see you, um…well, I’m not sure, but…”
“Sunday,” Adrien said. “I’ll be there for patrol.”
She smiled weakly as he confirmed her suspicions. “So Chat really does love me?”
“He does. I do.” I couldn’t stop if I tried.
Ladybug seemed at a loss for words, and Adrien wasn’t sure what to say either. So he simply reached for his bag of groceries, his heart doing somersaults at the little giggle Ladybug made when she passed it over. He held the umbrella out to her—he wasn’t far from home now—but she gently pushed it back towards him.
“You need it more than I do. I’m a superhero, after all.” She winked. “We’re immune to getting wet.”
Adrien laughed—oh, how he wished that were true.
“Besides,” Ladybug whispered, rising on her tiptoes and leaning in. “Maybe leaving you my umbrella will give me an excuse to visit.”
She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then raced off before Adrien could point out that the Lucky Charm would disappear. That it really wasn’t a reason to visit.
But maybe that wasn’t really the point. Maybe she just wanted a reason.
Adrien no longer needed a reason to hope.