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She was angry with him. He could tell from the look on her face.
“Chat, how could you?” she hissed.
“What?” he asked.
“You destroy everything you touch.” she spat. “I should have known better than to trust someone who’s power is bad luck.”
“My lady?” he asked. Darkness fluttered around them both.
“I’m not yours.” she said, scowling at him. “I never was.”
Chat could feel tears rising in the back of his throat. “Why are you—“
“Look what you’ve done!” she cut him off. Chat looked down. His hand, burbling and sparking with black destruction, was holding Ladybug at the waist. Her suit was disintegrating, exposing rotting, blackening flesh, muscle and cracking ribs and vertebrae. Chat Noir screamed.
“Adrien!” Ladybug snapped. He tore his gaze from the horror he had caused to look at her face. She didn’t look angry with him anymore. She looked afraid. Afraid to die, and it was all his fault. “Adrien?” she asked.
Apologies stuck in his throat, for what good were they now? The sharp scent of blood and burning flesh scarred his nostrils and he cursed his heightened senses. He could feel tears rolling down his face. He was killing her. It was all his fault.
“Adrien?” she asked again, more urgently. He stared into her eyes. They were widened in fear, and they were as blue as they had been when he first met her. The blackness of death and despair surrounded them both. The hellish rustling of butterfly wings and cataclysm claiming her life.
“Adrien!” suddenly her mask was gone, and she was gripping him tightly by the shoulders. “Adrien, wake up!” he tore his eyes from her face. She was wearing soft pink pajamas. His hand was bare and clean. No cataclysm, no blood. He threw his arms around her neck and sobbed. Just another nightmare, that was all it had been, She was safe.
As his heart slowed down, and his breathing steadied, he started being able to remember and notice things better. He had come to Marinette’s house with Alya and Nino to study and it had started raining torrentially, so they'd all decided to stay the night. He and Marinette had given Alya and Nino the couches in her living room and slept on the floor. He’d had a nightmare. Marinette had woken him up from it. Marinette was hugging him.
Marinette was Ladybug.
“Sorry.” he said, drawing back, though he found he didn’t really want to.
“It’s fine.” she said softly. Ladybug. Her hair was loose around her shoulders. Her shoulders, which were nearly bare in a pajama tank top. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Adrien stiffened as he remembered the feeling of Ladybug dying by his hand. The nightmare of killing this sweet, bold, kind, loving miracle of a girl.
“No. No, I’m fine. Thanks.” despite saying this, Adrien jumped about five feet in the air when Nino nudged him from behind. He’d woken everyone up, then.
“Sorry.” Nino said. “You want the couch, dude?”
“No, it’s fine. Thank you. I’m sorry for waking you up.” Adrien stood. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.
“Okay.” Marinette said.
Once they were in the bathroom, Plagg zipped out of Adrien’s shirt pocket.
“That sounded unpleasant.” he said.
Adrien didn’t reply, but looked around the bathroom, deciding that Marinette’s parents probably wouldn’t mind if he used some of their mouthwash.
“What was it about?" Plagg asked as Adrien twisted the cap off the bottle and and poured a capful of mouthwash for himself. Plagg could be annoying as all hell, but Adrien had to admit that it was nicer to have him around than nobody. Adrien spat green foam into the sink.
“Marinette is Ladybug.”
“Oh?” Plagg seemed quite interested in this. “And what makes you think that?
Adrien wasn’t sure how to answer that. “I… I recognized her.” he said. “I’m right. I know it’s her.”
Plagg smiled. “You’re right.”
Adrien’s head jerked up. “You knew?!”
“Of course.” Plagg said. “I recognized her immediately. Tikki and I have been betting on our holders figuring out each other’s identity for centuries. It’s about half the reason we tell you to do it.” he smiled at Adrien. “I rarely win, though. Good job.”
Adrien grimaced. “You’re welcome.”
“Are you going to throw up?” Plagg asked.
Adrien considered it. “No.” he said. Though there would have been plenty of reason to. Adrien thought about the events of the dream and began crying again.
“Hey now, kit…” Plagg said, in that awkward way he always used when he tried to comfort Adrien.
“I was killing her, Plagg. I… cataclysm—”
“Adrien, what have I told you?” Plagg interrupted.
Adrien took a deep breath. “Cheese is the only thing you can trust?” he asked.
“No. Well, yes, but no. Don’t think about cataclysm so much.”
Adrien sniffed back tears and cleared his throat. “Right.” He rubbed at his eyes and groaned. “Don’t think about cataclysm. Easier said than done.” He looked in the mirror. It was blatantly obvious that he had been crying. "Ugh, I look a mess, don’t I?”
“Who cares?” Plagg said, and yawned. “Can we go back to sleep now, if you’ve recovered?”
“I kinda don’t want her to see me like this.” Adrien blushed.
“She’s seen worse, I’m sure.” Plagg said. “I’m tired, come on.” Plagg flew back into Adrien’s shirt pocket. Adrien supposed that he was right.
Marinette and Ladybug had both had seen him in less-than-ideal circumstances. Separately, he didn’t mind that, but if he put them together, or if she put Adrien and Chat together, she’d see all his failings and know that he was a complete disaster. He wouldn’t blame her for being uninterested, or uncomfortable.
Adrien knew that people got nightmares. He also knew that most people didn’t get them often. He’d asked Nino once when he’d last had a nightmare, and Nino had said it had been over a year. Adrien got them about every two weeks, more often if he was stressed. Until talking to Nino, he’d thought it an improvement from his getting them almost every other night when his mother left. Maybe he could tie it to being Chat Noir. A lot of his nightmares were centred around his misadventures with Ladybug; the way tonight’s had been.
Ladybug… Ladybug was Marinette. His friend Marinette. He wasn’t that surprised by this, now that he was thinking of it. It made sense. He could see them as one and the same. But it did something to his image of Ladybug. She wasn’t just the glistening superheroine he’d admired for so long, she was close, accessible, real. He smiled. Ladybug was sitting in her living room on the floor, probably talking to Alya and Nino late at night. She was wearing her hair down. She hadn’t brushed her teeth before bed and had declared herself a “rebel.” Was she worrying about him?
Adrien’s hands were still shaking. Normally he would not have willingly gone out to see anyone before completely recovering, but now? Now he just wanted to be with his friends. Alone wasn’t helping anything. He wanted to see Marinette, and hold her again, and know with every fibre of his being that she was completely safe and sound. He wanted to smell the comforting warm scent of the bakery that permeated every part of the house. He wanted to reassure his friends that everything was fine, and believe it himself.
So that’s what he did.