Work Text:
Marinette never really understood people. Not the same way those people understood each other, at least.
Everywhere she went, she became an outcast. Her parents had moved her from school to school, hoping to find somewhere she could fit in- somewhere she could properly thrive.
None of the Dupain-Cheng family had figured out why Marinette was like this- even Marinette. But her parents simply accepted it as part of her, and did their very best.
Collège François-Dupont was notoriously difficult to get into, but Tom and Sabine were determined. They pooled their resources, called in favours from everyone who might be able to put in a good word.
Finally, they had a meeting with the head of admissions.
"This school primarily caters to families with a particular commonality," Mr. Damocles said. Marinette wondered what he meant by this, but the three adults all understood the words that weren't being said.
Marinette could already tell she wouldn't be able to follow the conversation, so she turned out of it. She still heard what was said, and processed it, even though she tried to focus elsewhere.
Her parents told Mr. Damocles about the "unique challenges" Marinette faced. She never liked that phrase, it always felt distasteful somehow. But it was always what was said.
Marinette was admiring a flock of birds out the window. As she watched them, failing to block out the full voices of the adults, Mr. Damocles picked up his phone.
"Could you please ask Mr. Kante to sit in on the rest of this meeting?" He asked.
Marinette pondered briefly who Mr. Kante might be, still admiring the birds outside, still processing what the grown ups were saying.
Somehow, she was always like this. Somehow, she was often the opposite.
Marinette was never the master of what she paid attention to. Sometimes she would notice everything, and be so lost in her senses that she wouldn't move her body. Other times, she could only notice one thing, no matter how hard she or anyone else tried to make her focus.
Marinette wanted to focus on the birds. She tried really hard to block the rest out, but couldn't. There was still so much else to notice- how the chair felt against her back, her clothes against her skin. The light whirr of Mr. Damocles' computer, a buzz from the artificial lights. To top it all off, the hushed tones of the adults. Marinette heard every word, but in that moment she didn't bother understanding them. She was putting as much attention as she could out through the window, to watch the flock of birds. It had circled around several times, and had even perched in a tree for a few minutes. Marinette felt lucky they hadn't left her field of view.
She heard, but did not listen to, Mr. Kante when he spoke.
"I suspect she might have autism. We'd need to schedule some proper observations, and arrange for a psychiatry appointment, but from what you've said it's likely they will confirm my suspicion."
"So you can help her? She could- fit in here?"
"Definitely."
-----------------
Several years later
-----------------
Adrien Agreste snuck out of his home, his prison, his father's grasp. He needed to go to a real school, choose his own friends instead of father assigning them. He needed to be free.
Unfortunately, he missed the first day of school- his father's assistant, Nathalie, had caught up with Adrien just as he was about to reach the school building.
But- and Adrien suspected Nathalie had a part to play in why- his father relented. So while his classmates had their second day of lessons, Adrien had his first.
When he entered the classroom, he was nervous. Likely these kids all knew one another, and the friend groups had been established- either the day before, or the year before.
Seeing someone messing with some- fresh, ew- chewing gum stuck to his assigned seat, Adrien had admittedly reacted poorly. By the time he got home, the girl had explained what really happened, and had won Adrien's heart.
----------
It was Marinette's first day of school for the year. She didn't look forward to it, not did she dislike it. It was just how things were.
As long as things stayed consistent, Marinette could always find ways to be content. This was why she had a routine that she adhered to. Her brain felt neater, more well-behaved, when she stuck to it.
So, when Marinette's alarm went off, she dove in. Shower, clothes, meds, teeth, breakfast. In that order, every time.
Her school bag would be ready and waiting by the front door, set up the previous night. All she had to do was collect it, and her lunch, when she left.
Marinette enjoyed the walk to school. It was a little like a movie, but for more of her senses. Each of her senses got the chance to experience a little novelty as she walked her route, but she also knew what was coming- mostly, at least.
While she was waiting for a crosswalk, Marinette could feel her sensory perception leaving her control. She began to hear all the little noises- footsteps, voices, cars, all clamoring in her head. Just as she was about to give in to how overwhelming it was, there was a voice. It didn't cut through the noise, but Marinette still heard it- same as everything else.
"Help," it called. "Please."
Marinette's sensory overload didn't go away. It wasn't a brilliant moment where she raced into action. But she did push past how overwhelmed she felt, focusing on the voice. Trying to sort through everything she was perceiving to figure out where it came from.
She walked at a snail's pace down the sidewalk, inching closer to her goal.
She saw him long before she reached him, even though for anyone else it might be a split second between the two.
A frail old man, lying on the ground. He was struggling to reach for a cane.
Marinette didn't question what she needed to do. She kept battling her senses, working to approach the man. Once she was finally close enough, she allowed herself to fall to her knees.
She reached out a hand in his direction, eyes closed to try and limited the sensory inputs.
"Use me to get up," she said. "I can't do much to actively help, but don't worry about hurting me."
She grimaced as she spoke. She usually didn't, when she was having an overload- it added to much, being able to feel her vocal chords and hear her voice vibrating through her skull.
The old man did as he was told, and Marinette felt relief wash over her that the little help she could provide was enough.
It was a slow process for the man to climb back to his feet, but he managed it.
Once he was up, using Marinette's shoulder for balance, she let her eyes open for a moment. She closed them again and reached out to where she had seen the man's cane, offering it to him.
"Thank you," he said.
Marinette was still having her overload, so she didn't respond. She was focusing- eyes scrunched shut, breathing only with the mouth, hands in her ears. It blocked out as much of the input as possible this way- nothing to see or smell, little if anything to taste. There would be no helping her senses of touch or hearing, though.
She didn't spend any energy to decipher the old man's words, muffled by her hands. She didn't know he'd asked if she needed help in return, if there was anyone he could call.
It would be a while before Marinette recovered from the episode, but she held on to the idea that she had managed to help someone despite it. Maybe even because of it, since she might not have otherwise noticed his voice.
As always, Marinette had been painfully aware of every little sound around her during the overload, so when she finally decided it was safe to look around she could tell the man hadn't left- no sound of a walking stick hitting the pavement to indicate he had walked away.
But nonetheless, he was gone.
Marinette knew she would need to sit for a few minutes to regain her composure before continuing her walk to school. She checked her phone, and saw classes had started a couple of minutes prior. She sent some quick texts- to her parents and teachers- to explain that she was okay and when she expected to arrive at school.
This was hardly the first time this had happened, though Marinette had noticed it was happening less often recently.
While Marinette was collecting her thoughts, and wondering how the man with the cane had possibly left without her perceiving it- especially during an overload- an ambulance pulled up.
Marinette explained what happened, that she would be okay, that it had happened before. This would happen, whenever she got an overload and wasn't with someone who knew about them. Marinette thanked the paramedics, wishing they would stop wasting their time to double check her pulse and other vital signs. Surely there were other people in Paris who needed help, and Marinette knew for a fact she was fine.
She knew better by now than to argue, though, and added a mental tally to how much baked goods she owed the paramedic station. Today brought the total from 2 batches to 3- the highest it had been in a while, Marinette realized. She resolved to get at least one of those batches done by the end of the week, or at least try her best.
Noone other than Marinette believed she owed anything to the paramedics, so it wasn't like she had a deadline, but letting the number get too big could feel overwhelming, so she did her best to keep it small.
The paramedics finished checking Marinette's vitals, and told her she could go. When she walked to the spot she'd left her bag, she felt certain someone had done something to it. Opened it, moved it- at the very least someone had touched it. This was definitely not how she left it.
Feeling her mind latch on to the disturbance, Marinette catalogued her belongings immediately. She knew that it was unlikely anything was taken, and she knew that cataloguing what she had would be the easiest way to convince her brain.
The moment she opened the bag, she saw something that shouldn't be there- an octagonal wooden box, with intricate engraved patterns.
Marinette set it aside and catalogued her own belongings before her brain cleared up enough to wonder whose this was.
It must have been put there when her blood pressure was taken, she knew, as that was the only time she hadn't been able to perceive her bag- the feeling of the cuff inflating always drew Marinette's full attention.
Still sitting in the middle of the sidewalk, in the middle of Paris, Marinette opened the box.
------
Tikki was so excited to have a new Ladybug that she didn't notice right away she was in public. She flew around her chosen one, excited to get to know them. When the new Ladybug adopted the fetal position, Tikki had no idea what to do.
It took ten minutes before they came to. Tikki tried to give her usual explanation, but halfway through her champion decided Tikki was nothing more than a hallucination. Tikki had just enough presence of mind to sneak her Miraculous onto their person before the box was closed, and she would have been shut away.
Tikki would have to pay careful attention to the earrings in her new Ladybug's pocket, as only the kwami currently knew they were there. She snuck into their bag, and wondered what her next move could be.
-----
A week later, Tikki was growing desperate. Marinette- she'd discovered this was her new holder's name- had almost given the Miraculous to Goodwill. Tikki had barely saved the earrings before they got too far from what the magic considered their owner, and the miraculous recalled Tikki to its inactive state.
Now, Marinette was telling someone about Tikki.
It was Marinette's psychiatrist- the exact kind of person Tikki knew you would talk to about a hallucination. She was listening intently, hoping that Marinette would reveal something that might help Tikki convince her it was real.
"She always hides away when others are around," Marinette was saying, "So part of me wonders if she might be real. Especially because of these."
Tikki heard a sound that she knew had to be her miraculous being placed on a table, and she decided enough was enough.
She flew out of her hiding spot, and stood fiercely on the table beside her Miraculous- causing Marinette to look at her confused, and the psychiatrist to scream.
-------
Dr. Rowe had been strangely open to the idea of kwamis and Miraculouses, once he had calmed down. Thanks to him, Tikki finally managed to get Marinette to actually listen to what she had to say.
Tikki explained to the two that she was real, and that the earrings were of great importance. Marinette had been chosen, but was free to reject the call as long as the earrings were returned safely.
Tikki had intended to tell Marinette how to return the Miraculous to Master Fu to be reassigned, but letting someone else see her was the proof Marinette finally needed. This Ladybug would have one person who knew her secret, right from the start, but Tikki hoped that would be okay.
--------
Plagg thought his new holder could become a good fit, with time. The kid didn't listen well, or think ahead, but that was what Tikki's holders were for- reigning in Plagg's.
The kid had access- riches, fame, the whole nine yards! Getting his hands on camembert would be a piece of cake. Or, a piece of cheese.
But Plagg worried he might not get to enjoy it for long. Master Fu had told him, before assigning the Miraculous, that there would be a Ladybug. But the only superhero there was any sign of was Plagg's holder. Noone else whatsoever, let alone specifically a Ladybug.
Plagg was worried beyond belief- though he tried to hide it from his owner. There were too many awful possibilities to consider. Maybe Fu just hadn't found someone yet, Plagg told himself. Maybe he did and they rejected the call. Maybe- heaven forbid- Tikki was lost. Worse yet, maybe she'd been corrupted like Nooroo.
Plagg tried not to let the kid worry, but his holder could tell something was wrong. And since Plagg had initially told him to expect a Ladybug, the kid had a pretty good idea of what.
Through all this worry, though, the kid had done remarkably well for himself. He'd managed to take down Stoneheart by himself, even if he had needed to back off a half-dozen times to feed Plagg and get a new cataclysm back.
When his new best friend got akumatized, the kid had done one of the bravest things Plagg had seen- stood and faced him, without his powers or suit, and talked him down. Hawk Moth tried to force the akumatized kid to fight, and while they argued in the psychic link the kid broke the akumatized object as himself, and the city had assumed Chat Noir had been caught in a bubble like the adults- and therefore, that Chat Noir was an adult. Plagg had needed to chase down the fleeing akuma and carefully cataclysm it, but it all worked out surprisingly well.
Plagg felt confident the kid could keep Paris safe, at least for now, as a solo act.
But he still worried for Tikki.
-------
When Adrien saw Mr. Pigeon on TV, he was terrified. A lot of Parisians were scared, worried about staying safe until Chat Noir turned up.
Adrien, however, worried more about what might happen once Chat did. He knew Chat Noir had a feather allergy- or, did in his civilian form. He didn't know if Chat Noir would still have an allergic reaction when transformed.
Adrien hoped the hero wouldn't, but deep down suspected he would. Even if the allergy wasn't anaphylactic (it wasn't, thank goodness), it would still handicap Chat Noir's ability to handle the threat. Worse yet, if the public found out about Chat's allergy, it would be a clue to his identity.
Adrien Agreste worried about all these things, not because it would impact his own safety- nor was he worried about Chat Noir's safety. Instead, Adrien worried about these things because they would keep him from doing his job.
By day, of course, he was just a model- and a cog in his father's empire. But in secret, Adrien had another job. It didn't pay in money, but he loved it nonetheless. His second job granted him freedom, like he'd never felt before. More importantly, it gave him a way to care for others- total strangers, usually- without getting any credit.
Adrien Agreste bottled up his worries and doubts about Mr. Pigeon, because he had a job to do. He had to be Chat Noir.
------
Marinette felt worried. She’d expected Tikki to be there with her when she became Ladybug, to help walk her through it, but she was utterly alone.
It had been a few weeks since Tikki had made herself known to Dr. Rowe, and Marinette had realized she was real. Since then, the two had grown close. Marinette now relied on Tikki to help her make sense of social situations, and help her when she got sensory overloads. This was the first time Marinette had transformed, since it was the first time she was needed as Ladybug after finally accepting the responsibility.
She might not have accepted it if she’d realized how utterly without help she would be as Ladybug.
Then, she saw him. Chat Noir, throwing himself into danger. Marinette wouldn’t be alone, after all. She would have him.
------
Dr. Rowe sat in his office. Normally he'd be with a patient, but his 3:00 appointment was, alas, otherwise engaged . He bided his time watching a live news feed of an akuma battle. Chat Noir had shown up, as usual, but there was a new superhero. The press had taken to calling her 'the new girl' for the time being, and promised to try and determine the hero's name after the threat was dispatched.
Dr. Rowe was distracted from the broadcast by a beep on the intercom. The secretary, a lovely woman called Hilga, was calling him.
"Hilga," he said warmly as he answered the call. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Your 4:00 is here, Dr. Rowe," Hilga said. "Since your 3:00 hasn't shown up yet, standard policy would be to move up anyone who has arrived early."
Dr. Rowe frowned. He couldn't say as much, but he considered Marinette his most important patient. He hesitated to jerk around her schedule.
The psychiatrist found himself watching the broadcast again as he contemplated what to do. Marinette was already 12 minutes late, and judging from the news feed she was likely to be considerably longer.
"Doctor?" A voice startled him- he'd forgotten he was on the line with Hilga.
Dr. Rowe cleared his throat, regaining his bearings.
"You can send in the 4:00 now," he said. "But don't bump anyone else up yet. Put Marinette down for my new 4:00."
Dr. Rowe had a feeling that Ladybug would have a lot to talk about, and it wouldn't do to make her reschedule the usual (and slow) way.
"Are you sure, doctor?" Hilga seemed uncertain. Dr. Rowe knew this was technically a breach of policy, to schedule- or reschedule- an appointment without the patient's input, but he felt that he was justified in doing so.
"Make a note in Marinette's file. She needs an accommodation, exempting her from the standard no-show, late arrival, and rescheduling policies. I will provide case-by-case instructions for any such occurrences."
"Of course, doctor."
Dr. Rowe smiled. He trusted Hilga not to pry. She respected doctor-patient confidentiality immensely, and often had to remind the doctor not to gossip about patients. Sometimes he doubted the woman had a curious bone in her body.
---------
((An indeterminate amount of time passes))
---------
Plagg had enough. Adrien had advised him to stay in the backpack when they were at school, but he was getting bored. He needed something to do. And if Adrien never found out…
Plagg chuckled to himself, amazed he’d had the self control not to do this sooner. He flitted through the fabric of Adrien’s backpack, exploring the floor of the classroom. Maybe he was being a little less careful of being spotted than he should have been, but he didn’t really care- it was nice to stretch his legs, so to speak.
Plagg quickly grew bored again, and decided to poke around. Maybe one of Adrien’s classmates had something in their bags or belongings that could keep him entertained.
Tikki was waiting patiently in Marinette’s bag, daydreaming to keep herself busy. When a gasp interrupted her thoughts, she assumed one of Marinette’s classmates had seen her, somehow. But when she took stock of her surroundings, she and Plagg were still secured in a closed bag.
Wait- Plagg?
“Hey, sugarcube,” Plagg said nonchalantly. Tikki saw right through it, though- he was just as surprised to have run into her as she was.
“What are you doing here?” Tikki hissed. “And why aren’t you with your owner?”
Plagg snorted. “He’s close enough that I can get to him if there’s trouble.”
Tikki desperately tried not to consider the implications of that statement. “We aren’t supposed to find out who holds the other miraculouses!” she complained.
Plagg made a show of considering it for a moment. “I have 2 counterarguments,” he declared. “One, the rules state that bearers of miraculouses can’t seek out each other’s identities without permission. Noone brought up kwamis.”
Tikki groaned. “That’s not the point, Plagg! It’s supposed to be a secret, until the time is right. You might let something slip by accident, they might find out early, it’s all a mess!”
Plagg was just smirking.
“What?!” Tikki snapped.
“You’re neglecting to consider my second counterargument,” Plagg said, putting on airs of being some kind of refined scholarly lawyer.
Tikki rolled her eyes, refusing to bite. Instead, she contemplated how much Plagg’s hoity-toity act sounded like Kaalki.
Plagg pretended Tikki asked- which Tikki knew he would. “Two,” he announced. “I don’t care.”
-------------------
The kwamis caught each other up as best they could. Plagg couldn’t directly tell Tikki who Chat Noir was, thanks to the magic of the miraculouses, but since he’d found Ladybug by himself she was free to talk.
Of course, Tikki had no intention to try and figure out Chat Noir, and it amused her to see Plagg trying to find ways around the magic so he could tell her. Eventually, Tikki would notice someone at the school wearing the cat miraculous. Until then, she decided, ignorance could be bliss.
Plagg eventually gave up on trying to thwart the magic, much to Tikki’s slight disappointment. Watching him spit bubbles every time he tried to speak had been hilarious, after all.
The two kwamis settled into the silence, and Tikki began to feel uncomfortable. “I guess I could just talk to you about my owner,” she said. “Since you already know, that is.”
Plagg groaned at her. “Why would I care about that?”
Tikki just shrugged. “Maybe you’ll learn something that informs how you advise your owner,” she said.
So Tikki told Plagg everything- Marinette’s condition, and assumption that Tikki was a hallucination. Tikki’s attempts to talk to Marinette, and her plan to return to Master Fu. Finally getting through to Marinette with the help of Dr. Rowe.
Tikki was explaining the most recent foul-up. “I noticed that Adrien- one of her classmates, whose name you probably haven’t bothered to learn- seems to be into her. He seems like a perfect fit for her. I got Marinette to list what she might like in a romantic partner, hoping she’d notice Adrien suited her perfectly. Instead, she ended up convincing herself she was in love with Chat Noir.”
Plagg started to laugh, and Tikki eyed him suspiciously. Plagg just grinned. “Sugarcube, don’t be so sure she’s wrong about her feelings.”
She tried to make a comment about the pet name, or at least glare at Plagg for it. Instead, all Tikki could do was contemplate why Plagg might have reacted the way he did.
Realization dawned on Tikki, as much as she might not have wanted it to yet. She ducked out of Marinette’s bag for a brief moment to confirm- just in case- and was pleased to see the ring on Adrien’s finger.
“Okay,” Tikki admitted, “I can see how that might be funny.” She paused, considering. “Was I right? Does he like her as Marinette?”
Plagg smirked. “Which answer would you like- the real one, or the one that will make you laugh?”
Tikki felt a little taken aback, uncertain. Before she could make a choice, Plagg elaborated. “Spoiler alert,” he said. “They’re the same answer.”
Tikki giggled, immediately understanding.
Plagg was struck by a thought. “Should we tell them?”
Tikki stopped her giggle fit, dropping dead serious. “The rules are clear, Plagg.”
“I’m sure they are,” Plagg relented. “but- it would save them so much time, and so much heartbreak.”
Tikki’s face fell. “I know, but until either they or the guardian decide the time is right, we can’t let anything slip. We can’t even let them know that we know.”
Plagg wasn’t quite ready to give in. Clearly, he’d grown protective of his new kitten.“New plan,” he said. “I’m going to tell him at midnight. I’m doing it, and only one thing can stop me.”
Tikki just sighed. “You’re just giving him more work. Every time you try this, it ends the same way.”
Plagg looked to the direction Adrien was sitting. “Unless Fluff, or one of his wielders, appears to tell me not to,” he declared- not to Tikki, but to the universe- “then I’m telling him who she is. You have five minutes.”
The universe- or perhaps, whichever of Fluff’s future owners had answered the challenge- must have been scoffing at the idea they’d need five whole minutes. The instant Plagg finished his declaration, Fluff flitted through the bottom of Marinette’s bag to join Tikki and Plagg.
“Hi, Fluff,” Tikki said. “Sorry about Plagg. Again.”
Fluff, usually a bit of an oddball, was oddly serious. He looked Plagg in the eyes, and said “not yet. and not from you.” Without stopping for pleasantries, Fluff went back down through the floor, presumably to reunite with one of his future- or potentially past, come to think of it- owners.
Tikki tried not to worry about Fluff’s strange demeanor, instead hugging Plagg. “You got close fast, huh?” she asked.
Plagg accepted the hug, which meant he really needed it. “I got so worried when he told me he was working alone.”
Tikki squeezed Plagg a bit tighter. “He did really well as a solo act,” she said. “You should be proud.”
There was a pause before Plagg spoke. “It wasn’t him I was worried about,” he said. “Well, not only him. I was worried about you, too.”
-----------