Work Text:
This is a mistake and he knows it.
It doesn't stop him from bolting out of his room the moment he gets home from school and it doesn't stop him from landing on her balcony, but it's so undeniably foolish that even Plagg tried to talk him out of it. In the end, though, it's Adrien who calls on the transformation.
The first thing he hears is her crying. It's enough to give him pause before knocking, but not enough to change his mind. He has to make amends for hurting her. He has to stop her tears, or he can't even call himself her friend.
He reluctantly schools his face into an obnoxiously inappropriate grin.
"Open up, purrincess!" he calls, cheerfully, as if this is pure coincidence and he's not an asshole. Even the nickname is battery acid on his tongue.
The sharp rap against the glass almost startles her out of her tears.
"No," she whispers in desperate prayer. "Please not now."
Marinette doesn't have the energy to see people. Certainly not him. She could tell him to go away. She could say not now. He might even listen. Instead, Marinette grabs a fist full of tissues to mop up her face before chucking them and the entire box to the floor below.
"It's open," she groans.
The hatch swings up. Her partner's smile is bright and excited and it doesn't reach his eyes. Or maybe her whole world is just muted right now.
Is this how rejection feels?
Is this how he's felt every time she's rejected him?
"Who wants to play Parcheesi?" Chat Noir says, holding the game box aloft and giving it a little shake.
"Parcheesi is awful with only two players," she informs wetly.
This, combined with her puffy, bloodshot eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, evidently tells him something is off. His face drops in concern and he slides through the hatch to land on the mattress beside her.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, Chat," she sniffles, totally believably. Her partner is good at getting her through tough times; maybe his presence will distract from her misery. "Open the box."
Like a disinterested cat, he tosses the box over the side of her bed loft. It hits the floor and bursts open, pieces clattering in all directions for what sounds like an eternity. All the while, he simply stares back at her.
"What's wrong?" he asks again, with filibustering determination.
"If you're going to be like this I'm going to ask you to leave," she says icily.
"Princess..."
A bitter expression flashes across his face.
"No 'princess' right now. I've had an awful day. My world is ending. I'm too depressed even for the ice-cream-and-sad-movies girl time that I know is biking this way. So please, Chat Noir, if you're going to be a clown, go back to the circus."
"I promise to be good," he insists softly. "If you tell me what's wrong."
She could refuse.
He'd let her.
She glares at him, waiting for the figurative mask to figuratively slip, but the remorse reaches his eyes in a way the exuberance didn't. She's ashamed it takes a moment to remember that this is her partner, whose impossible loyalty has kept him by her side through her worst failures. If she can't trust him when she's broken, she can't trust anyone.
Marinette takes a deep breath.
"I told a boy I liked him today."
"And the world is ending?"
She shoots him a sharp look, but it's unwarranted. There's no ridicule, only concerned curiosity.
"Might as well," she says. "Get it over with."
Tears well up again, but the tissues are still on the floor. She grudgingly scoots past him and descends the ladder to collect them. He dutifully follows her down. Seeing the scattered Parcheesi, he feels obligated to clean it up.
"He probably didn't want to hurt you," he says, kneeling down and scooping up plastic tigers and elephants.
"Of course he didn't," she says, pulling out fresh tissues. "He was…" She turns her head skyward and silently curses the tears leaking out. "...he was a perfect gentleman, like always."
"Marinette."
"It's true, Chat. I told him I love him and he gently ripped my heart to pieces." She hangs her head. "And he looked so apologetic doing it."
She blows her nose, loud and ugly, like a poorly-maintained trumpet, and when she resurfaces he's visibly distraught.
"You told him… you love him?"
"Oh." She blushes. "No, not exactly. I wanted to. Finally. Instead I just told him I liked him and asked him out on a date. He doesn't need to know how disgustingly in love with him I am, right?" It's a hypothetical question but she waits for a reply. Chat doesn't give one. "I know he liked a girl, but they dated briefly and it didn't work out and he hasn't mentioned anyone else, so… I thought he might be available. He just—" She shudders at the memory. "He told me he was flattered but he DOES like someone else, and… he didn't even have to say I'm just a friend but he apologized and he was so understanding and gentle and I don't understand how he can be so kind all the time."
He places the boxed-up board game on her desk. She doesn't think they're likely to play. Marinette slams the tissue box down next to her computer and goes to the vanity to wash her face. He follows like a puppy. A puppy-like cat.
"It doesn't sound like he—"
"STOP, Chat. Just stop," she warns, waving her finger at him. "I don't want whatever consolation you've got about how he's not worth it or he's actually a jerk or or or WHATEVER!"
She turns on the tap and splashes her face. The hot water has never worked up here, so it's cold and numbing and she wishes she could run her heart under it for a few minutes. Instead, she turns the sink off, marginally more alert but no less heartbroken. Marinette dries her face then storms over to the chaise and collapses as Sabine's voice drifts up from below.
"Marinette! Alya's here!"
Marinette jolts upright. Alya's early. She realizes all too late that letting Chat Noir in was a mistake. She knows Alya. She knows Alya doesn't knock. Chat Noir shouldn't be here when Alya bursts in, but one hyper-quick calculation tells her he simply doesn't have time to escape.
She barely has time to hiss:
"Duck."
He drops down behind the hatch just as Alya throws it open, noisily on rusted hinges, and climbs halfway up.
"Girl," she says, heart-wrenched and sympathetic. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe…"
She's at a loss for words, which Marinette can take advantage of.
"I know, Als. Hey, why don't you go back down and grab us some ice cream?"
That would buy time to get Chat Noir out.
"No," Alya says flatly, climbing up the rest of the way and letting the hatch close behind her. Marinette's eyes blow wide as Chat is fully exposed, just behind Alya, crouching comically behind absolutely nothing. "I'm not letting you out of my sight right now. I'm sorry it took so long to get here."
"It's… it's okay, Alya."
At any other time, Marinette would relish the attentive concern from her best friend. Right now, though, it's a problem. Marinette needs a plan. The clock is ticking before Alya, now that they're "alone" in her room, says something that exposes her secret to Chat Noir in dramatic fashion.
"It's not okay. I've gotta beat that boy up now."
Marinette's only option is to… what, exactly? Keep Alya's eyes on her? Somehow lead her around the room so Chat can sneak out behind her? It seems like her best option.
"Nobody's beating him up, Alya," Marinette says, standing up and walking over to her computer desk. She picks up a tissue as pretense and dabs her eyes with it. Alya moves closer, and Chat Noir sneaks out of the corner to position himself behind Alya.
"Well I've gotta do something to make you feel better. After we figure out who he's obsessed with, we can beat her up."
Again, Marinette won't endorse violence, but the thought of Adrien's mystery girl lights a fire in Marinette.
"Who IS this girl? I thought it was Kagami but if not then who ELSE is he so interested in and WHY can't they just get together so I at least know he's HAPPY?"
She risks a glance at her partner to try to nonverbally communicate something but she's struck by how distressed he looks. Marinette can't hold eye contact with him, and instead lets herself drift over to the sewing machine. She picks up a scrap of fabric and resists the urge to blow her nose with it. By some obnoxious fate it's the same color as the scarf she made Adrien.
"He deserves to be happy," Marinette adds, utterly defeated. "Even if it's not from me."
The wood floor creaks as Alya moves over to Marinette's computer desk. When Marinette turns around, Chat Noir is now behind the chaise, behind Alya.
"So, is it time to move on?" Alya asks.
She says it like it's simple. Like it's possible.
"How, Alya? How does anyone just move on?"
"He rejected you," Alya says gently, like she's trying to reinforce the bad news that Marinette couldn't possibly forget.
He rejected her.
Kindly, delicately, he rejected her.
Marinette's trying to focus on moving Alya and Chat Noir around the room like pawns, but she can't focus when this awful truth suffocates her.
"What do I do?" Marinette asks weakly.
Chat Noir quietly tiptoes to the bed ladder while Alya is at a loss. Finally, she seems to decide that continuing her BFF's depressive spiral isn't the ideal course of action.
"I dunno," Alya says mischievously, and Marinette knows there's a joke coming purely to rile her up and draw out a reluctant laugh. She might even give in. In the end, though, Marinette isn't prepared. "Maybe it's time for you to give your partner a chance."
Instead, Marinette's world ends.
It takes all the self control in her to not immediately lock eyes with Chat Noir, but he's right over Alya's shoulder and she sees his whole body snap rigid. He knows. And now she's stripped bare before him, with no place to hide and no words to scream.
"Alya," Marinette croaks. "Please stop talking."
"Oh c'mon. You know Chat Noir is crazy about you," Alya says, oblivious to the way Marinette's world is falling to pieces. She holds up her hands and closes her eyes in defense. It affords Marinette just enough time to glance at a thunderstruck Chat Noir. "I know. I know. You don't feel that way about him. But girl, you deserve someone who's interested in you, and all of Paris knows that boy is devoted to you."
Marinette can't react. If she reacts the way her body craves, the jig is up. Instead, she backs away toward her vanity, and Alya turns appropriately. Chat Noir is frozen in place, though. Staring slack-jawed, he has the perfect chance to sneak out and he isn't taking it.
"Or will you give Luka another chance now that you have closure with Adrien?"
Chat Noir lurches forward like he's desperate to physically stop her. She imagines how painful it must be to silently endure hearing about the crushes of the girl he loves. She never wanted to inflict this on him.
"You know that's not why Luka and I broke up."
"Oh… Right."
Fighting back tears, Marinette sniffles.
Which is another mistake.
Alya, good friend that she is, doesn't hesitate to turn around to grab another tissue for Marinette. Unfortunately, Chat Noir is still standing in the open, frozen beside the ladder. Alya jumps like the tissue is scalding.
"Ohmygosh," Alya gasps. Her head whips back and forth between Marinette and Chat Noir, desperate for some kind of confirmation that her eyes aren't playing tricks on her. "My gosh," she says again, stunned. After some time she seems to accept that he's really in the room with them. "I didn't realize you were there. I…" She seemingly replays the past few moments in her head before turning to Marinette, aghast. "I screwed up."
Marinette simply stares, stricken.
Doing anything else is pointless, now that the world has ended.
"I screwed up," Alya says again, stepping away from the two heroes.
Marinette wraps her arms around herself, the only defense she has. She can't take her eyes off her partner, who can't take his eyes off of her. At least it's mutual.
"Marinette," Chat Noir says, awed.
Alya, an intruder writ large, shrinks backwards and sits on Marinette's trunk. She pulls up her legs and tries to make herself smaller.
"Hey kitty," Marinette says hoarsely.
A single tear escapes. Its slow descent down her cheek is halted when, in a flurry of motion, he swipes a tissue and surges across the room to catch the tear before it falls off her chin. With a trembling hand she takes the tissue from him.
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
"You didn't do anything wrong."
"I did," he insists. "I've made the biggest mistake of my life." His mouth opens and closes over and over, lips moving like he's searching for something, anything that he can say. He looks to Alya, but can't seem to find words for her either. She knows her kitty. She knows his mind is working a million miles an hour. He has the biggest mouth in Paris, so seeing him struggle like this feels indecent. Eventually, grim determination takes hold. "I can fix this," he promises her. "Trust me."
Somehow, innately, Marinette knows what's coming. It's not exactly a practiced behavior, but an automatic response, held in the back of her mind all this time. She slams her eyes shut just as he says the words, the green light flashing against the inside of her eyelids.
Alya has no such automatic response.
"Oh my gosh," she gasps.
"Alya," he warns.
Marinette's world is a black void. This day is a complete disaster. She wasn't ready to lose Adrien so definitively. She wasn't ready for Alya to blow her cover. She wasn't ready for Chat Noir to learn her identity. She wasn't ready for Alya to learn his identity, either.
How has everything fallen to pieces right in her bedroom?
"Why did you do that?" Marinette demands, as Ladybug-like as she can muster. "Without any warning at all! What the heck, Chat?"
"I'm sorry, but I need you to—"
"And why did you do that in front of Alya?!"
She didn't want to know who he was yet, but… she'd always wanted to be the first to know. It was a comforting thought. She's knows it's hypocritical, especially considering—
"Alya already knows who you are," the-boy-who-is-Chat says. "Now she knows who both of us are."
"No way," Alya whispers again, still in audible shock.
"Alya, please!" Marinette adds, eyes clamped tight. "Chat Noir, please transform and… and go home. I'm sorry. I can't. Not right now."
"Marinette…"
"Please, kitty." Why is he making her beg? "I promise we'll talk later on… patrol." The word sounds wrong coming out of Marinette's mouth.
"Marinette, honey," Alya says, with a voice like she's discovered the secrets of the universe. "You need to open your eyes."
"No," Marinette says, shaking her head.
"Girl, you have to. He's not even moving."
Marinette just keeps shaking her head.
"Is this why…?" Alya asks, leaving the ending implied or gesturing in a way Marinette can't see.
"Yes," says the boy who is Chat Noir.
"So you really…?"
"Yes."
"'Til death do you part?"
"ALYA!" Marinette shouts.
"Alya," not-currently-Chat says, "why did Luka and Marinette break up? Is it the reason I think?"
Is he really prying into this now?
"Seriously, Chat Noir? Seriously?!"
What is wrong with him?
She wants to open her eyes just to glare at him, but she's committed.
"I…" Alya falters. "I don't know if it's my place to tell you that."
"It's not!" Marinette shouts.
"Please, Alya," he says. "You know why I'm asking."
"I… I do…"
And Marinette's not sure what to make of that. She's not sure of anything. Not when her room feels like it's a billion degrees.
"Alya," Marinette warns.
"Why don't you want him to know?"
Why do they want to know?! Why have they suddenly decided that she deserves zero privacy? Why is her room shrinking by the second? She can't see it but she can feel it.
"Because it's embarrassing and frustrating and not his business and I don't want to talk about this now! I'm sorry, but you both… you both need to leave! Right now!"
"We came here to comfort you!"
"Some good it did!"
"Marinette, girl, you don't understand."
"Nope! Time to go!"
An advantage of living here all her life is that Marinette can navigate her room with her eyes closed. She begins shoving them toward her bed loft ladder.
"Alya, I'll text you later. Kitty, I'll let you know if I won't make patrol. I promise we'll talk, but I just can't handle this right now."
"Girl, it's not that bad!"
He stumbles forward with minimal resistance.
"C'mon! Up and out!"
"Marinette," he chuckles.
Alya tries to escape. Marinette grabs her arm to drag her along.
"M, this isn't my exit."
"Chat Noir can carry you down from my balcony!"
"That's not suspicious."
"Don't care!"
She must look absurd trying to one-hand shove a boy much taller than her while tugging on Alya's arm as the girl stands her ground.
"You can't make me climb a ladder, you know."
"I should! I'm the guardian!"
The boy who's not currently Chat Noir laughs. She's glad he finds this funny.
"I don't—" Her partner grunts as she presses him into the ladder. "I don't understand why you won't answer the—"
How is this day not over yet? Her world has ended and she's trapped in this black void but there's still people.
"Because I'm Ladybug!" she snaps. "There, did you want me to say it?! That's why things fell apart with Luka. And almost fell apart with Alya. Because having to lie and keep secrets hurts people. I don't think I need to tell you that. And I don't even know why I confessed my feelings to Adrien today when all of that's still true and I would've ruined that too! Temporary loss of sanity!"
She's shaking. When did she start shaking? There's a flurry of movement and strong hands grab her shoulders.
"Marinette," he says hurriedly but soothingly. "Take a deep breath. You can't get akumatized."
"Don't touch me!" she shouts, wrenching herself free. He immediately lets go, but she senses he's still right there. A stab of white hot embarrassment rips through her. "Sorry, kitty…" What's wrong with her? "I'm just…" He's her partner. "I don't know what's wrong."
"Hey, hey. It's okay. You're upset. I know you never wanted me to know—"
"Just not like this!"
"—But I need you to take deep breaths."
Isn't she? She's already breathing. She's breathing a lot, actually. All she hears is her breathing, ragged and shallow.
Until she hears flapping wings.
"M'lady! Akuma!"
Marinette freezes. She doesn't know where it is or how close it is. Is there time to transform and capture it? If she transforms and it immediately hits her, they're in deep trouble. She's terrified of making a mistake.
There's only one sensible decision.
Before the world ends again…
…she reaches for her earrings.
And there's a loud crunch.
And the flapping ceases.
Silence is left in its wake.
"Oh," Alya says, and Chat Noir bursts into surprised, slightly-manic laughter.
"What happened?" Marinette asks, feeling less than useless.
"Tikki ate it."
What?
Well.
Problem solved.
Apparently.
Hyperventilating in silence, listening for another akuma, embarrassment settles in over losing control of herself. She'd apologize if it didn't make her sound even more pathetic. Fortunately, her partner speaks first.
"Marinette. L-Ladybug." He's appealing to her stronger half but she flinches involuntarily. His hands grab her arms tentatively, then more firmly when she doesn't immediately throw him off again. She can't do that now. "You need to see me."
He rubs his hands gently up and down her arms. She loses herself in the warm, repetitive motion.
"What if this is a mistake?" she whispers.
"Then you can throw me in the Seine."
If nothing else, it pulls a strangled laugh from Alya. But he sounds comfortingly confident this won't be a mistake.
"I need you to trust me, m'lady."
Marinette wants to.
"I don't know if I can, kitty…"
Marinette wants to see his face.
"You can," he reassures, deep and throaty. "Please open your eyes. For me."
Marinette takes a steadying breath.
Time to leave the void.
She opens her eyes, and the world is born anew.
