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Three days. It had been three days since Chat had last tried to visit her as Marinette.
Three days since she had turned him away.
She could not tell him why she would not see him. She had left his movie out on the balcony for him to pick up, but she refused to open the latch to let him in. He had waited for hours that night. And she had cried even longer. It had been three days of isolation, three days where she had slowly felt herself becoming more and more miserable. Even her friends had noticed. Alya had offered up girl talk and ice cream. Nino had tried to offer up a mix tape to get rid of the blues. Adrien had tried to talk to her and figure out what was wrong.
She could not have told any of them what the problem was. She tried to be fine, but it was slowly killing her from the inside out. The guilt ate at her.
That nightmare had left a lasting impression, and the possibility of it becoming real scared her. The fear of being Marinette and Ladybug at once before his judging eyes… the terror of it becoming real…
“Marinette, you can’t keep doing this,” a gentle voice admonished her. The girl turned to her constant companion, the only other person to know her on both sides of the mask and the only to know it was her on both sides of it. “It’s not healthy.”
“But what do I do?” the girl asked.
“Talk to him.”
“Tikki, I can’t. If—”
“You can’t keep avoiding him, Marinette,” her kwami admonished. “You need to talk to him. Tell him that you’re scared of disappointing him. If you don’t, he won’t be around Marinette anymore to disappoint.”
Marinette’s eyes flashed open, wide with horror. Ladybug would always have Chat by her side. Marinette… that was never a guarantee for her.
The girl kicked away from her desk and scrambled to her ladder. It was eleven o’clock on a school night, so it was fairly early. She pushed her trap door open and looked around, hoping beyond hope that she was not too late to fix this.
But there was nothing to accompany her save her plants and lawn chair.
And the blu-ray movie Chat had never picked up.
Marinette walked numbly out of her room and reached for the movie. She felt tears sting her eyes. Marinette and Chat had been friends, wonderfully close friends, until she had pushed him away. Until her insecurities had gotten the better of her, crowding her head with doubt and fear, leaving no room for trust and comfort.
She had pushed him away and now he was gone. And it was entirely her fault.
She could only hold the movie and cry. Ladybug could always find Chat Noir and be a partner to him, but Marinette felt as though she had lost her chance to be a good friend to that silly boy who watched silly anime movies on silly blu-ray discs and ran around in a silly cat themed super suit.
Chat Noir continued on his patrol, thinking about the past few days. Thinking about his princess.
It was clear to him that something was bothering his friend. While he knew that she would not talk about it with Adrien—seriously, though: why???—he had thought that a visit from his superhero persona would have helped him crack the mystery right open and help her feel better. One could imagine his confusion when she had not opened the trap door that first night. He had waited for the better part of five hours and only left because he had to get ready for a shoot that had been scheduled for the hour.
Marinette had arrived to school that day with red puffy eyes and looked incredibly tired. That had begun the three days of panic for Alya, Nino, and himself. They had spent three days attempting to get Marinette out of whatever funk she had dragged herself into. He tried hard as Chat and as Adrien. He tried to be there for her during school as Adrien while beginning and ending his patrols on her balcony as Chat, hoping she would come out and talk to him again.
He had no idea what else to do. Marinette had become a close companion to him. A great friend. He could be himself around her as Chat and she had even begun to warm up to Adrien. She cared about his well being on both sides of the mask and he admired her spirit and leadership. It was a beautiful friendship.
And he wanted it back so very much.
He checked his baton for the time and was surprised when the numbers shone for three in the morning. Had he really been patrolling for five hours?
Paris is huge… he reasoned as he turned himself around. It’s not that hard to believe…
Chat was the night as he raced across rooftops towards his newly designated ending point. As he approached the bakery, he could see a light shining from the top of the building. His ears perked up and he could feel himself hurrying to see if she would meet him.
Please come out, he silently wished. I miss you.
Chat landed on the balcony with a soft thud. If she were awake, she would—
Wait.
He looked at the lawn chair. It was where he had left the blu-ray every night just in case she wanted to deliver it herself. Plus, he could not bear to take it and his only (frail) excuse to return should she ask. However, something else was in the lawn chair tonight. A someone with pale skin, raven hair, and tear tracks down her sleeping face.
His heart broke.
“Princess… Marinette, wake up,” he urged softly, placing a clawed hand on her shoulder. He gave the shoulder a shake to help her rouse from her slumber. Her face scrunched up. “Marinette, it’s cold—”
A sneeze only confirmed what he was going to tell her. That it was cold and she would get herself sick.
Chat Noir sighed. The girl was dead to the world and there was no way he was going to leave her to the elements. Thankfully, the trap door was already open so he would not need to open it himself to get her inside.
He swept his hands across her shoulders and under her knees for a good grip before hefting her up. He was not sure if the ease with which he carried her was due to his enhanced strength or her light frame, but he decided it was not important. What was important was getting her onto her bed without dropping her and making sure she would not actually end up being sick.
He readjusted her weight to lean on him so he could use an arm to ease the both of them carefully into her bedroom. He had been inside several times before now, so it was not too much of a problem as long as he explained the situation to her later. He laid the girl onto her bed and fiddled with her blankets, struggling to get them over her while he was still technically on the surface.
What was she doing out there in the first place?
He looked at her sleeping face, distorted in discomfort despite being on her own bed. The tear tracks were highlighted by the contrast of a slightly dirty face from where water from her tears had cleared it away. He reached out wiped her cheek with his thumb, as if the action could erase the tears that had been shed at least an hour ago.
Maybe she was outside for some fresh air, to help her think on what was bothering her for the past week or so. Chat could feel his ears droop.
“You know you can always talk to me, right princess?” he asked.
“…I wish I had…”
He was not expecting an answer. So forgive him his little undignified yelp and toppling over and almost falling from Marinette’s loft bed.
“Chat!” she called as quietly as she could. In her haste to reach him so he would not fall over and her groggy brain not quite comprehending the fact that she was under a blanket rather than at the ready on a lawn chair, she overshot and almost fell off the bed as well.
Chat caught her, obviously.
“I think I just lost one of my nine lives,” he admitted, trying to calm his racing heart and get them both back onto somewhat solid ground. Marinette was able to scurry backwards and she pulled him along so they were facing each other.
“Sorry. I just heard… I thought I was… You were…” the girl struggled to pull her words together. “Chat, I’m so sorry.”
Cue another thing he was not expecting.
“Sorry? Princess, what do you have to be sorry for? Is this for not letting me in on Monday? Don’t worry, all is forgiven,” he said. While his tone was purposefully lighthearted—it looked like Marinette had cried enough for one night—he could feel a weight lift off his chest. He hoped this meant she would stop avoiding him.
“No. Well, yes, that too, but that’s not it. I… I got scared. I thought I would disappoint you so I pushed you away and I thought I lost you, Chat…”
As the girl blathered, Chat’s mind stopped working. Disappointed? Him? How?
“Literally the only way you could disappoint me is by thinking I’d be disappointed in you,” he blurted, cutting her off from whatever she was saying now. The girl scowled, but he could tell his words had wounded her a little bit.
“That’s an paradox,” she complained with a hoarse voice. Chat figured he ought to backtrack before he hurt her again without thinking.
“Look, I mean—how could you even think that anyways? You’re usually about as clever as Ladybug, princess,” he stated plainly. He figured he said something wrong again as she winced. He really needed to say something right or stop talking. “What I mean is you’re usually pretty smart, so I don’t know how such a dumb idea—”
Another wince. He really needed to stop.
“—I mean, it’s really silly to think that would happen, how did it even cross your mind? You’re one of the least disappointing people I’ve ever come across! You’re surprising and fun and you make really good food!”
Okay, she laughed. Good job, Chat.
“What, I’m your secret food dealer now?” she asked. The melancholy was dripping away from her voice, and Chat loved it.
“Yup. Don’t let my boss know,” he whispered dramatically. “I might lose my tail.”
“Your secret’s safe with me, chaton,” Marinette said, the laughter returned to her voice. Chat smiled. This was the Marinette he had missed. This was his friend.
He saw her turn away and frown.
“Hey,” he said, nudging her with his shoulder. “You’re making a sad face.”
“How—? Right. Night vision,” she stated. How one could go from that sad face to completely deadpan was a secret Chat would never quite figure out.
“It comes in handy sometimes,” he admitted. She chuckled, but he could tell she was still somewhat upset over the (impossible!) conclusion she had come to which started this whole fiasco. “Listen, if you’re really bothered about disappointing me, you shouldn’t be. And if you need to hear it again, I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it. You’re one of my best friends and I don’t want to lose you, okay?”
The deadpan expression cracked. What resulted was reminiscent of the sad face, but her eyes sparkled. Before he could put too much thought into it, she had reached out and grabbed him, latching herself onto him in a hug.
“Thank you, Chat,” she said.
“No problem.”
A silence ensued. Then,
“We still need to watch this movie.”
“I left the DVD at home. I’ll bring it next time.”
Twin sets of laughter.
“Silly kitty.”