Chapter Text
Why? Why does this always have to happen to me? Adrien thought, pressing his free hand to his slowly dripping eyes. He wished the tears would stop, but the more that he looked at it the more he felt the crushing reality. His grip was strong now, so strong he swore it should have broken; shattered into tiny bits and ruined his hand by now. Yet it held strong and he wanted nothing more than to throw it across the room and hope that this was all a dream.
His phone screen glowed from his palm, illuminating his tear-streaked features in the dark. He wanted nothing more than to never again receive the call he had just gotten. It was from Nathalie, his father’s assistant and his poor excuse for a step-in mother. He’d gotten millions of calls from her before, and hundreds of them saying terrible things but never before had he felt the same crushing anguish as with this one. Then again, this is the only call like this that he’d ever receive.
He replayed it over in his head, hearing every syllable that had passed both of their lips.
It had been a rough night. Studies had kept him up late and when he’d finally gotten done he’d had nothing left in him. He’d had just enough energy to walk over and collapse on his bed, not even bothering to change clothes or put away his books.
“Adrien? It’s me, Nathalie.” She sounded normal enough, the same void voice and proper execution of each word’s pronunciation.
“Yeah, hi, Nathalie. What’s the matter?” It was late at night, and he typically didn’t get calls from her at this hour unless Gabriel was flying out on a sudden business trip or something else important.
“I have some news. Important news.” She said it slowly as if convincing herself that telling him was going to be the best choice.
Adrien sat up and rubbing the back of his hand into his tired eyes. “Okay, what is it?” He asked around a yawn.
He could almost hear the way she was chewing on her lip. “Adrien, let me just apologize now. I’ve never wanted to be the one to deliver this but…”
He could feel his nerves tighten, his mind suddenly awake. “Nathalie, what’s going on? Did something happen to my father?”
“What? No! No, your father is still in perfect health, it’s just that...well, it’s your mother…”
Adrien’s eyebrows knit together, confusion furrowing his mind. He had memories of his mother, the nice and warm woman that used to be here to love him and keep him safe from his father’s cruelty. Then he’d gotten his ring and the bad luck streak had taken over, starting with her leaving.
“What is it?” He asked, his voice urging and on the verge of annoyance. “Nathalie, just tell me already.”
“S-she passed away. Sh-she’s gone, Adrien.” Nathalie stuttered.
That’s when Adrien froze, his body locking into position. He was stuck, his fingers digging into his messy hair, his toes halfway turned in a playful circle on his rug. His eyes were wide, staring unseeingly at that same rug, the moonlight that cascaded on it and the cold breeze that he could feel on the tips of his toes.
His blood ran cold and his lungs seemed to fill with cement. His throat was closed by a hot and large ball that expanded more the longer he waited for breath to come back. His eyes began to fog over and his hand shook.
“What?” He croaked.
“You’re mother, she’s dead,” Nathalie repeated.
Adrien felt his arm slide down the side of his head, coming to weightily plop to his side. He felt numb, his breathing coming harder and his lower lip quivering. This can’t be real, he thought in pure disbelief.
“There was a car wreck this afternoon. They tried to get her out but she was pinned in the wreckage and there was a gas leak…”
Nathalie continued on to describe what happened, entirely oblivious to the young man on the other end’s emotions. Adrien brought a hand up, covering his open mouth, trapping in the silent scream of horror.
His mother was gone, dead, taken away forever. She had been the last blip of hope in his dismal life, and now she was gone. There was no chance of her coming back now, no chance of her coming to take custody over him. No anything. There was no hope, no chances, no luck.
“Adrien?” Nathalie asked, her voice showing just the slightest hint of concern. “Are you alright? Should I come in—”
“No.” He interrupted, his voice sounded raw and wounded even to him. “Don’t. I’ll be alright. Thank you for telling me.”
“If you need anyone to talk to I can call a—”
“I said I’m fine!” He snapped and hung up, clutching the phone like it was at fault for the news.
And so here he was, crying and trying to keep himself from really falling apart.
He felt the whisper of a tap—maybe just his imagination—on his shoulder as the screen finally went dim and he was plunged back into the darkness of the night. He looked down at his ring, the silver shining in the moonlight. It’s all this stupid thing’s fault. The thought bounced around in his head, making its way into all of his mind and all of his rational.
Then he definitely felt something on his shoulder. “Adrien…”
It was Plagg, the little kwami more concerned than ever before. Adrien didn’t really know how to feel about Plagg. He was the cause of Adrien’s suffering. The cause of his bad luck and the cause of all his misfortune, and yet here he was, trying to comfort Adrien. Then the thought came bouncing back to the front of his mind. “It’s your fault.”
Plagg was startled by the words. “What are you—”
Adrien ground his teeth and stood, his body going rigid with anger. He was still crying and he could feel the tears dripping from his chin and to the floor. His kwami stayed hovering over his bed, his minuscule whiskers twitching.
“This is all your fault!” Adrien screamed at the small cat.
He knew he was being irrational, but all he could think about was the fact that ever since Plagg came into his life, ever since this ring appeared on his finger, he wasn’t able to shake his bad luck. He wasn’t able to get rid of the malevolence that always seemed to be just a turn away. The only thing that he could think was that he needed to get rid of this luck, he needed it to change.
“It’s your fault that she’s dead.” He barked at the small cat, his voice coming out in a hoarse venomous hiss. “And now you’re stupid bad luck has gone too far. I need you gone, I need to find Ladybug.”
“Wait, Adrien—”
But it was too late, Adrien had backed up and wasn’t looking at his kwami anymore. “Plagg, transform me.” He snapped bitterly, forcing his hand out so his small companion was sucked into it.
The transformation was fast, and before he knew it he was off, leaping out his window and running across the rooftops of Paris. But this run was different. He wasn’t as graceful and even alerted some people walking down the lit road of his presence by tripping a few times. He swore under his breath as he stumbled for another time, eliciting a gasping cough as he dropped down to one knee.
He could feel Plagg fighting him as well. His energy was draining and his thoughts were becoming more and more blurred. How was he supposed to find Ladybug in the first place? Did he just expect her to randomly show up and just help? This was stupid. Why did he do this?
And yet he couldn’t stop himself. He kept going, missing a jump. His feet hit the shingles on the roof and disappeared out from under him. He gasped out a croaked breath as he fell to his chest, slamming into the tiles that were too slick. He started sliding, clawing with all of his strength, trying to hook his nails into something.
His feet slipped over the edge of the roof, then his shins and knees. When his waist slipped over his claws finally snagged into a few tiles, jerking him to a halt. His shoulders ached with having to hold him up and getting back up was possibly the hardest thing he’d ever done. He slowly started pulling himself up, breathing hard and tears still running down his face.
Finally, he was able to hop over the railing of the balcony he had so stupidly missed. He landed in a crouching position, his hands coming up to press their heels into his eyes. His breathing was ragged and so were his nerves. He was going to get hurt if he wasn’t careful, but he knew at this point he’d lost all of his control.
His hands were shaking, his shoulders virtually vibrating. The lump was still there, if not harder now in the front of his throat. He could feel his breathing coming and going in jerky and sporadic bursts. He ran his hands through his hair and felt the ears that he was so well known for wearing. Then he pulled back his gloved hand, seeing the ring with its light glowing in the dark.
This is all your fault, he thought weakly but knew there was no more anger in him.
“Chat?” The voice reached out to him in the dark, wrapping him up in its beautiful warmness, like a giant protective blanket.
He felt his heart skip a beat. No, not with my luck, he thought bitterly and stood. “L-Lady?”
He turned and came face to face with the last person he expected to see.
Marinette was standing behind him, one hand raised towards her face as if she had just finished rubbing her eyes. Her hair was down and messy from sleep, her pink and white spotted pajamas were crumpled and frankly hung a little low on her shoulders and arms. The only thing that looked awake was her gaze.
The blue of her eyes was startling right now, vivid in the dim moonlight. Her look was alive with curiosity, but right now it was also lit by fright. That’s when it occurred to him that this was probably her home, and he had just slammed full force into her roof and almost slid off. Of course, that would have made a lot of noise and it probably scared her half to death.
“Oh, Marinette!” He exclaimed, trying to fake his usual suave manner as he wiped his nose on his leather-clad arm. “I didn’t wake you, did I? Princess?”
He was hoping that the nickname would get her flustered or at least annoyed enough to scoff and leave. No such luck.
Marinette came closer, her eyes squinting to look at him, studying his features. “Are...are you crying? Is...is something wrong?”
He tried to swallow but found the bulb in his throat still there, still alive and well. His tears started freshly again. Marinette, the warm and nice girl from his class who was always there to give him one of her shy and bright smiles could see through the dark and into him in less than a second. It was a shot through the heart to think that someone he barely was able to speak to was able to know him so well.
He lost it then, and he couldn’t help himself. He turned away as fast as he could but it wasn’t fast enough. He saw the look in Marinette’s eyes before his gaze had moved. “W-what? M-me, crying? Not likely!” He tried at his fake confidence again but Plagg wouldn’t allow him any. The vengeful kwami wasn’t giving him anything to work with.
“Chat? What’s wrong?” Marinette asked, her voice soft and her touch on his back gentle.
Chat took a deep breath, chuckling bitterly. “How is it that we’ve only met briefly a few times and you already know how to read me?”
He saw her jolt, just out of the corner of his eye. “I, uh, have always been pretty good about that kind of thing. Besides, your mask doesn’t really stop tears.”
She dropped her hand from his back and leaned on the railing next to him, her elbow gently touching his as she stooped to rest her chin on her forearms. He looked over at her for a moment, marveling at how calm and put together she was about all this.
He wondered absently how this was the same girl from his class. She always seemed so flustered and embarrassed or even just plain out and simple shy whenever he tried to talk to her during school. She was always talking with Alya, yeah, and was the new class president, but she rarely was able to get a word out around him. He figured it had been with all boys, but now he wasn’t so sure. Why was she able to be so cool about hanging out with a defective Chat?
“So, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” Marinette asks for a moment, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
Chat realized with a start that he was still staring at her. He returned
his gaze to the skyline and took another deep breath. With another shock, he realized that he had stopped crying; well, almost. Breathing was still a trouble.
“It’s just some stupid thing with my other life.” He muttered and glared down at his ring.
Marinette nodded, as if understanding. “Well, do you want to talk about it inside, maybe over a cup of tea or hot chocolate? It’s kind of cold out here.”
Chat started, pulling away from the railing. “Are-are you inviting me in?”
Marinette looked at him over her shoulder, her expression slightly confused. She straightened, saying, “Well, yeah. What else would I be doing? Obviously, you need to talk to someone about this and I’m awake now, but I’m not going to hang out here in this cold night air.”
She walked back over to the hatch that undoubtedly lead back into her home. She bent to open it and stood again after exposing the inside of her house. “Are you coming?’
She didn’t wait for him as she climbed back down what seemed like a ladder into her house. Chat followed after a moment’s hesitation. He did need a friend right now, and getting out of the cold sounded like a good idea.
When he climbed down he noticed that there was no ladder. In fact, he ended up ungracefully falling through the hatch and plopping onto her bed. Immediately he sprung back up and walked down the set of small stairs that lead to the main area of her room.
She was at the door, offering him one of her warm and generous smiles. “I’ll have to be quiet so it may take me a little while, but I can promise you I’ll be right back.”
Chat brought his thumb and pointer finger together to form the ok signal, winking at her. He was slowly starting to regain his normal demeanor. Marinette gave a small nod in response and slipped out the door and into the quiet and dark interior of her home. Chat took the opportunity to look around her room.
She had a very organized room, lots of space and everything in its own place. He noticed the crafting tables and sewing machines set up on them. She must have designed and created a lot of clothing on that one table. He wondered absently what she had made besides that hat as his eyes prowled the rest of her room.
That’s when his eyes found the small area that seemed to be dedicated purely to pictures of him as Adrien. Plastered onto one of the walls—a smaller one—he found cutouts of magazine articles of him, pictures from the yearbook and random photos he’d never seen before pasted to the plaster. He walked up and examined each.
He remembered some of the shoots, and others he cared not to. Some of the random ones he remembered being taken of him, or at least what context they had been taken from. Some, on the other hand, didn’t look familiar in the least. He wondered when she’d found the time to take the pictures.
Then he heard a small gasp from the door and looked to see Marinette standing there with two steaming mugs in her hands. She was blushing high up on her cheek bones, the color abnormally red for her skin tone. Chat grinned and flicked his head back at the pictures he’d been studying.
“Have a bit of a crush, do we?” He asked playfully.
He watched as her expression took on that annoyed crease work that he always loved to elicit. Her nose scrunched up and her cheeks grew even darker. “So what if I do?”
Chat shrugged, a slight grin tugging at his lips. “I just think you could do better.”
Marinette seemed to ignore this statement. She walked over to him and held out the mug, but it was at such a distance that it made sure he would have to walk away from the picture wall. He felt a low chuckle bubble up in his throat as he walked to her, taking the mug graciously from her hands.
“Thank you, princess.” He gave her a wink and took a sip of the beautiful liquid, his gaze falling on the world outside her window.
It tasted amazing. It was almost like a chocolate cake and a cream tart were morphed together then melted into this delicious drink. He licked his lips excitedly and took a big mouthful of the liquid up, swallowing it down before it could burn his tongue.
“This is amazing.” He said to her, still looking out her window.
“It doesn’t come free.” She said slyly from where she stood, sipping from her own mug.
“Oh, and what might the price be?” He asked playfully. He was feeling so much better, almost like he was flying, soaring away from everything.
“Tell me what’s bothering you.” She said from the lip of her mug.
And suddenly he was grounded again, thrown back into the reality that he would have to face the truth. He felt suddenly weak, and tired. He sunk down onto her satte slowly, his hands clutching his mug for its warmth and for stability. He felt his mind whirring as he had to relive the phone call again, the emotions, and once again he was reminded of the cursed ring that resides on his finger.
“I—um—” his voice cracked and he coughed, shaking his head to try and clear his thoughts. “Well, it’s kind of complicated. Do you want the whole thing or the main premise?”
Marinette cocked her head to the side, seeming to consider the options. “How about the whole thing.”
Chat nodded, knowing that was coming. Marinette had always been a curious young lady. “Well, I guess it started when I got my Miraculous. You see, mine is not like Lady’s. Hers gives her good luck, while mine... only gives me bad.” He stopped and took another drink of hot chocolate, hoping the heat would soothe the lump in his throat. “It’s never really been that big of a burden on me before. I mean, yeah, I’m used to it, and usually Lady balances it out so my luck is pretty okay. But I guess tonight it just...ran out.”
Marinette sat down slowly next to him, her hands landing in her lap, her mug now half empty. “What happened?”
He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, not as he was starting to cry again. His throat was swelling and his eyes starting to fog up. He sniveled a little and took a deep breath, tilting his head back to stare at her ceiling. God, this was hard.
Marinette was polite in her manner. She waited for him to calm down a little, and to finish his drink before he spoke again. The entire time she watched him, her eyes soft and apologetic. She knew this was hard, and yet she didn’t pressure him, and that’s probably what finally coaxed it out of him.
“My mother died earlier this evening.” He said, his voice coming out in a hoarse mutter. “I got the call a little while ago.”
He heard her intake of breath and even felt her stare on him become more intense, but also softer at the same time. For a long moment, she didn’t seem to know what to do as his tears began to spill over his lashes and onto the fabric of her satte.
Then he felt the mug being pulled from his grasp and saw her get up to walk and put them on one of her desks. When she came back over he could see the understanding softness in her expression, and the gentle caring in the way her eyes sought out his. He kept his gaze on her as she sat down, her arms coming up for a hesitant moment before winding around his shoulders in a warm embrace.
Chat was frozen for a moment, his hitched breathing stopping. Was she really hugging him? Was this actually happening?
“I’m sorry, Chat. I’m so sorry.” He heard her murmur from his shoulder, then her face was buried into the crook of his neck. Her breath was warm on his skin and came as a welcomed sensation.
That’s when his arms came up too, winding around her waist and pulling her closer as he buried his own face into her shoulder, crying softly. “Th-thank you, Marinette.” He whispered at one point.
They stayed like that for a long time, holding and supporting each other. At one point they both ended up sinking down to lay side by side on the satte, Chat still having tears run down his cheeks, but they had slowed considerably. They laid facing each other, their knees gently touching and their hands being brought up and pressed into one another.
Chat observed that he had considerably larger hands than Marinette, but it didn’t really come as much of a surprise. She did seem like a very slim girl.
When he laced their fingers together and brought her hand to his mouth to gently kiss her knuckles he found no response from the young girl. That’s when his eyes landed on her face. She was asleep again, her eyes shut and her lips slightly parted with her breath. It came as a shock to him that she had fallen asleep so fast, but he guessed he should have expected it, he had just woken her up after all.
He sighed, lightly whispering, “Thank you, Marinette, for everything.”
He was going to get up when he felt her grip tighten, seeing her brows furrow with some dream she was having. He looked down at her for a long time. Everything in him was telling him that he had to leave, his transformation couldn’t possibly last that much longer and he shouldn’t really stay out of fear of being discovered in the morning.
And yet no matter what he told himself he couldn’t seem to move from his position except to lay slowly back down next to the beautiful black haired girl that was beside him. He gently kissed her knuckles again, then her forehead.
He pulled away, his lips hovering just a hair before her brow. “I’m sorry, Marinette, but I can’t be alone right now. Please, don’t hate me in the morning.”
With that he laid still, closing his eyes and listening to her even breathing. It was calming, really, just to have her near him, and just to be able to feel her. The greatest comfort came from their intertwined hands. He could feel her pulse where their wrists met and it helped assure him that she was real and that he had comfort.
And when his ring started beeping and his transformation left him he didn’t make any motion to leave. Instead, he laid there, his eyes closed, the melodic pulse and the rhythmic breathing of a beautiful girl lulling him slowly into slumber.