#aartrp

“I’m fine,” he said again.

“Okay,” she said, though her tone told him she didn’t fully believe him.

His jaw clenched, and he set his mug down with a huff. “Try to have a little faith in me.”

“I do have faith in you. I just…” She placed a hand on his leg and gave it a squeeze. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You can do this.”

It was more convincing, but Adrien still got the sense she was holding back her real feelings on the matter, though he didn’t argue further. He was coming along, and there was nothing she could do to stop him. It was likely she knew as much, so they both let it drop. She was being overly cautious, and Adrien would prove it to her. He could handle one day of work. Therapy had taught him to take each day as it came and focus on what he had to do in the moment. Besides, it wasn’t like the work was new. He’d done plenty of administrative work alongside Marinette the previous summer. She was worrying over nothing.

When Marinette came down again a while later, she was dressed in a stylish pink faux-fur coat over a gray tartan jumper with pink suede boots and a dark magenta purse. She’d taken to applying more makeup now that she was the head of a major fashion company, but it was still considerably lighter than many of the fashion moguls Adrien had met before. She still kept her signature Marinette-like charm despite the expensive new clothes.

She stretched up to kiss him, her strawberry flavored lip balm slippery on his lips. More money than any teen could ever fathom, and she still wore the same cheap lip balm she always did. He was still annoyed that she doubted him, but as he licked the residue from his lips as they made their way down to her waiting town car, he supposed that worrying was just in her nature. Marinette was still Marinette. It was comforting, so he took a deep breath and tried not to let it bother him. After all, her worry came from a place of love. He’d just have to show her he was alright.

Falling back into the foundation work was like slipping into an old pair of shoes after a wash. Somethings were a little different, but after a while, his feet found their usual grooves. He turned on his usual charm during the meetings and interviews, perfectly professional and poised. But even still, every now and then he’d catch that same furrow in Marinette’s brow when she looked at him, much to his annoyance. She did her best to hide it, but she wasn’t quick enough to evade his keen eye. Her disadvantage was he knew her better than anyone. There was very little she could hide from him.

During her interview with Mode, Adrien sat back with Danielle and watched. The awkward and clumsy girl he’d first met was now replaced with a charming, media-trained professional. He recognized several of the tactics she used from his own interview days. The art of answering a question without really answering the question, but in a way that made others think you’d answered the question. It was a delicate balance between just enough information to satisfy their curiosity without revealing much of anything important. The suits had trained her well.

When Marinette wrapped up her interview, she returned to him and let out a deep breath, but there was little time to take it in before Danielle ushered them to the next box on their to do list — the photoshoot. Marinette leaned her head back against the back seat of the town car, rubbing her temples.

“It’s impressive,” he said.

“What?” Marinette blinked.

“You’ve integrated into this world so well. Fashion isn’t for everyone, but you seem to be managing.”

“Thanks.” She flashed him a smile. “Sometimes I still feel like I don’t know what I’m doing. I couldn’t do any of it without Audrey or my team.”

“You’re doing great. Take it from someone who knows.” He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. “You’re incredible, mon ange.”

Marinette placed a gentle hand on his leg, holding it still. He hadn’t even noticed it was bouncing.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

“Fine,” he replied, more clipped than he meant. “I don’t know why you’re so worried. I’ve been doing a great job today.”

“You have.”

“Exactly, so you don’t need to worry anymore. I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

Adrien’s eyes narrowed, and they both fixed their gazes out their respective windows for the rest of the drive. He’d knock it out of the park at the photoshoot. Then she’d have no choice but to admit he was fine.

The set was already assembled when they arrived at the studio, and the models were in hair and makeup. Marinette checked details on the clothing and discussed concepts for the shoot with the photographer, but Adrien paid that little mind. He plopped himself in an open chair over in makeup and waited, but the stylists moved around him to grab brushes and products for the other models. After a few minutes, Marinette peaked around the vanity.

“There you are. They’ll be starting soon,” she said.

“Well, I need makeup and hair first,” he said. “Where are my outfits?” At Marinette’s raised eyebrows, he added with a huff, “You do want me to model, right?”

“Adrien,” she started in that delicate, how-to-put-this-nicely tone.

“You didn’t put me down as one of the models?” He bristled.

“I didn’t think you liked modeling,” she said.

“I’m fine with it, and I want to help in anyway that I can. You don’t need to worry so much!” Adrien shot back.

Marinette placed her hand on his leg again to hold it still, and Adrien crossed his arms over his chest.

“Stop treating me like a fragile doll. Can’t you see I’m tired of that?” he said. “I’ve done this a million times. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” Marinette nodded. She hailed over a makeup artist and hair stylist, then retreated to find him something to wear.

He straightened his posture while they worked, slipping back into his old mask. He practiced a few faces in the mirror, hitting each of his signature pouts effortlessly. It was like riding a bike. He could do it in his sleep.

After hair and makeup, Adrien got dressed and waited his turn. He strutted onto the set confidently and listened to directions from the photographer. Marinette hovered close by, watching the monitor and chewing her lip. Taking a deep breath, Adrien hit his first pose, letting muscle memory take over. He’d done this a thousand times. She was worried about nothing.

A few shots in, the photographer stopped to review with Marinette, the two discussing something Adrien couldn’t hear. The photographer approached again and rubbed his chin.

“You’re a little stiff. Relax the shoulders more and don’t tense your brow so much,” he said.

“Alright.” Adrien nodded. Okay, so he was a little out of practice, but it had been several months since his last photoshoot. He just needed a few shots to get his rhythm back.

Two shots later, and the photographer gave him the same feedback. Four more shots, and he retreated to review the monitor with Marinette again. Adrien watched them pointing at the screen, the photographer’s frustration visible on his face. Marinette seemed to plead with him, and the photographer shook his head.

Knots formed in Adrien’s stomach, but he did his best to swallow them down, clinging desperately to the mask to keep it from slipping. He could do this. Modeling was easy, brainless even. He was just a little rusty, that’s all.

When the photographer returned again, he didn’t say anything, but continued taking photos. Adrien moved through a few more poses, but the lights were a little warm, and he could feel sweat trickling down his back. The camera flash left spots in his vision, and he blinked a few times to reorient himself to no avail.

“Look here. Where are you looking?” The photographer snapped his fingers.

“Sorry,” Adrien said. “I’m a little out of practice.”

He tried to shake it off, but the lights were buzzing and too bright, causing more sweat to trickle down his brow. When the camera flashed, his eyes burned, a feeling he hadn’t experienced since his early days of modeling. His stomach churned, bile rising to his throat, but he swallowed it down.

Just turn it all off. Focus. But he couldn’t. The mask he’d so easily slipped into before didn’t seem to fit him anymore, and no matter how hard he tried to force it, the façade was cracking at the edges. It was too hot, the air thick and too heavy to breathe. The ground beneath him seemed to sway, and he couldn’t make out the camera through all the spots.

“Adrien!” Marinette rushed to his side, cupping his face in her hands. “Cut the lights and get him some water!”

His knees buckled, and Marinette supported him as they sat down. The crew cut the stage lights, but the spots in his vision remained.

“It’s okay, Adrien. You don’t have to do this,” Marinette was saying.

“No, I can do it,” he said.

“Adrien.” She brushed his cheek with her thumb, smearing something wet across his face. She was going to ruin his makeup.

“I can do it. Please, I can do it. I can do it. I can do it. I can-”

She was worrying over nothing. He was just out of practice, that’s all. Just a few more shots, and he’d get it.

“I can do it. I can. I can. I’m sorry!” Something cold and wet touched the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. His hands shook, and each breath burned his lungs.

Why? Why couldn’t he turn it off? When he’d modeled before, no matter what was going on, he could always just turn it off and get the job done. What was wrong with him this time?

“Adrien.” Marinette tilted his chin to look at her.

“I’m sorry. I just need a minute,” he whispered. But no matter how hard he willed it, he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking.

“Adrien.” Marinette wrapped her arms around his head, forcing him to look her in the eyes. That crease was back in her brow, and her big blue eyes were glassy with tears. “We need to calm down.”

“No, I’m fine. I just need a minute,” he said, but the whimper that escaped his lips was hardly the collected tone he’d intended.

“Adrien.” She rubbed the wetness across his cheek again. It was warm and tickled as it trailed down to his lips, filling his mouth with the taste of salt. Droplets dripped from his face onto the tartan print of Marinette’s dress, and his chest heaved, breath hitching in his throat.

“Let’s do five things,” she said.

She was exaggerating. He was fine, but if it got this over with faster, he’d humor her.

“Five things you can see,” she said.

Adrien took a ragged breath. “You.”

“Good. What else?”

“The photographer… Danielle… The light. My hands.” Still shaking. He curled them into fists.

“Four things you can touch,” Marinette said.

Adrien stretched his fingers out, running them along the soft fabric of the sweater under her jumper. “Your clothes.” He trailed his hands up to cup her face. “Your face.” He laced his fingers through her hair. “Your hair.”

“One more,” she murmured.

He ran his free hand down his pant leg, drying off the sweat. “My clothes.”

“Three things you can hear.”

He paused to listen, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “My breathing.” He listened again. “Your breathing.” And again. “The lights are buzzing.”

“Two things you can smell.” Marinette smoothed his hair.

He flicked his gaze to her lips. “Strawberries and…” He took another deep breath. “The cherry blossom perfume I bought you for your birthday.”

Marinette smiled. “One thing you can taste.”

Adrien licked his lips, letting the flavor permeate his tongue.

“Salt,” he said.

His face was wet from whatever Marinette had rubbed on him. He ran a hand across his cheek, following the wetness up to his eyes, and he surveyed the liquid glistening on the back of his hand.

“Tears.” He corrected. “My tears.”

Marinette placed a hand on his leg once more to steady the ceaseless rhythm. She’d been doing it all day. He hadn’t even noticed his leg was shaking. All day he’d just assumed Marinette knew him so well that she could read the subtle ticks he couldn’t quite hide behind the mask, but in actuality, his tells were quite obvious. She’d known all day that he was slowly falling apart, and maybe he’d realized it to but was too stubborn to admit it. And now…

Adrien glanced around at the other faces in the room all watching him with the same look everyone seemed to give him as of late. The photographer crossed his arms over his chest, and the other models exchanged uneasy looks.

“Sorry, I-” His voice caught in his throat.

He wanted to help, but Marinette had been right after all. He wasn’t fine, and now he’d held up a photoshoot. His cheeks burned, and he lowered his gaze to his lap.

“Why don’t we call it a day?” Marinette asked, running her hand through his hair.

“Yeah…” Adrien said.

She took his hands and helped him to his feet, leading the way back to the changing room where he got dressed. They followed Danielle back out to the town car, where Marinette bid her to cancel her afternoon meetings. Danielle admitted that she already had, much to Adrien’s chagrin. When they returned to the apartment, Adrien retreated straight to his room without another word and crawled into bed.

What was wrong with him? Why wasn’t he getting better? Why couldn’t he go back to normal? Why wasn’t he fine? He was ready to be fine.

He buried his face in his pillow, hot tears wetting the soft fabric. His shoulders shook, soft whimpers squeaking in his throat. He wasn’t sure how long he laid like that, but after a while, a soft knock tapped on his door, sounding timid and uncertain.

“Adrien?” Marinette called out.

“Come in.” He sat up, rubbing at his eyes.

She entered with a small tray of cookies and a cup of tea, which she set on his desk. “I brought you a snack. You should try to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said. His stomach was still twisted in knots.

Marinette sat hesitantly in his desk chair, swiveling back and forth and kicking at the ground with her suede shoes. Adrien picked at loose threads on his pillow and rubbed his nose with a sniffle.

“I’m sorry.” They both said after a moment.

Adrien glanced up to meet her gaze, blue eyes glassy and tortured. “Why are you sorry?” he asked.

“Because I shouldn’t have put doubt in your mind. I should have supported you more,” she said.

“Marinette…” He shook his head. “You were right all along. I wasn’t ready, but I just didn’t want to admit that.” He hugged his knees to his chest. “I just don’t know why it all went wrong. Modeling has always been like a switch. I’ve always been able to turn it on when I need to and block everything else out, but today I just couldn’t.”

“Do you even want to model anymore?” Marinette asked.

He hadn’t considered it before now, so he shrugged. “It’s all I really know how to do.”

“Knowing how to do something and wanting to do something are two different things.” She pointed out.

“Yeah…” Adrien chewed his lip. “I guess I just don’t know what else to do to be helpful. If I can’t model, then… I feel worthless.”

“You’re not worthless!” Marinette moved to sit beside him on the bed. “Adrien, all of this is mine. You don’t have to do anything for this company if you don’t want to. If it’s all too much…”

“But I don’t know how to do anything else!” he said with an exasperated huff. “I don’t have any other passions or skills like you do, Marinette.”

“Well, what did you want to be when you grew up?” Marinette asked.

Adrien averted his gaze. “I don’t know. I never really thought about it. My father decided everything for me ever since I was a kid. I guess I just figured I’d do whatever he told me to.” After months of therapy, he realized how toxic it sounded when said out loud.

“Well, why don’t you try some new things and see if there’s anything you like.” Marinette suggested.

“I don’t even know where to start…”

“Then why don’t we try some things together.” Marinette took his hands. “I can show you some of my hobbies, and we can build from there.”

“I guess.” Adrien relented.

Marinette pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, giving his hands a squeeze.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to sound so bitter. I know you’re just trying to help,” he said, then after a moment, asked, “Do you think I left the hospital too soon?”

Marinette pursed her lips. “I don’t think so, but maybe we’re just trying to transition you too quickly. Maybe we should slow down.”

“I don’t want to slow down!” Adrien groaned. “I want to stop feeling this way. I just want to feel normal.”

“I know,” Marinette said. “I know this is all frustrating and scary, but I remember back when I felt lost and abandoned and scared, I found comfort when I realized I wasn’t alone because I had my friends and family… because I had you.”

“It’s different for me,” Adrien said. “Not that I don’t appreciate everything you and your family have done for me, but I just can’t help feeling like I’m this huge burden that everyone has to deal with. I feel like I create so many problems for everyone around me, and it makes me feel even more isolated and anxious.”

“Maybe you should bring that up with your therapist tomorrow,” Marinette said.

Adrien lowered his gaze. “Yeah...” He rubbed his nose again. “Sorry for dumping all my problems on you all the time.”

Marinette brushed his hair out of his face and lifted his chin. “I will always be here for you, kitty. No matter what. I love you.”

“Sometimes,” he said. “But I used to be able to ignore it. My father was… he had high expectations, and I didn’t want to disappoint him.”

“He pushed you a lot.”

“Yeah… I guess I didn’t realize how traumatic modeling has become for me.” Adrien lowered his gaze. “I didn’t realize how traumatic a lot of things have become for me, but if I don’t help out with Marinette’s company in some way, I don’t know what else to do to feel useful. I don’t really have any other skills, and I already feel like I’m a burden.”

“Have you given much thought to what you’d like to do in the future?” his therapist asked.

“Not really.” Adrien returned to scribbling.

“Being around people who have such strong identities and aspirations can be intimidating when you don’t know what you want, and you’re in a relationship with a teenage fashion designer and living with her parents who are professional bakers. We all have to find our place in the world and decide what we want.”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Adrien said.

“Let’s start with your old hobbies. You can decide which ones you still enjoy, and then we can figure out what you enjoy about them. Once we know that, we can look at options that fit that same role.”

Adrien pursed his lips. “O-kay?” He took a moment to consider it. “Well, I still like video games, and I did a lot of reading when I was in the hospital. Basketball is still fun when I can play it with other people. Karate was useful, I guess, and Chinese has come in handy a few times…”

“What about fencing?” she asked.

Adrien drummed his fingers. “I don’t know.”

His therapist clicked her pen and flipped her notepad closed. “Let’s go on a field trip.”

Adrien tilted his head to the side but didn’t question further. He followed her quietly from the office to the bus stop, then onto the bus. Despite the anxiety of having no idea where they were going, Adrien did his best not to fidget on the ride. His bouncing leg debacle taught him he wasn’t as good at masking his unease as he thought, a shortcoming he hoped to rectify.

After several stops, she finally stood up and gestured for Adrien to follow. They got off the bus and walked two blocks to a part of town Adrien recognized. They were approaching Kagami’s house. His therapist rang the buzzer at the gate, and after a moment, the automated system clanked to life.

“Do you know where we are?” she asked.

“This is the Tsurugi’s home.” But why had they come here?

The front door opened on its own when they approached, and Adrien’s eyebrows raised when they walked into the foyer to find a long mat stretched across the room. Kagami was dressed in her red lamé, bending her saber, and she trained those deep, discerning eyes on him as the doors shut behind them.

“Thank you for agreeing to this, Kagami,” his therapist said.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve had the pleasure of dueling one another. My opponents leave me wanting these days,” Kagami said.

“I haven’t practiced in months.” Adrien pointed out.

“Then it’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of beating you.” Kagami smirked. “There’s clothes and a saber for you in the bathroom.”

His therapist took a seat and opened her notes again. “Let’s see what you really think of fencing.”

Adrien swallowed hard and rubbed his palms on his jeans as he made his way to the bathroom. He mentally walked through several moves as he got dressed and stretched his arms, but he still had a bad feeling about fencing Kagami after so long without practice. She was going to destroy him.

He wasn’t wrong. The moment their bout started, Kagami’s attacks came in fast and hard, and in a matter of seconds, the tip of Kagami’s saber poked his chest.

“I thought you’d be rusty, but I didn’t think you’d perform so abysmally,” Kagami said.

“Positive feedback, Kagami,” Adrien’s therapist chided.

Kagami sighed and resumed her stance. “Focus and try harder this time. You’re capable of holding your own against me.”

“Think about how you feel while you’re fencing, Adrien. What do you like about it? What do you not like about it? Is it something you want to continue?” his therapist coached.

Adrien took a deep breath and resumed his stance, managing to block and parry Kagami’s first few strikes. Even still, it wasn’t long before she overtook him again and knocked him flat on his back. As he stared up at the ceiling, he couldn’t help but wonder if this particular method was effective. Getting his butt kicked repeatedly wasn’t doing much for his already fragile confidence.

Climbing back to his feet, Adrien took a deep breath and focused on the questions his therapist had asked. Did he even like fencing? He was good at it, or at least, he used to be…

Knowing how to do something and wanting to do something are two different things.

Adrien took initiative on the next bout, taking the first lunge, but Kagami parried him easily. She moved with a precision Adrien had lost, and she scored another point on him nearly effortlessly. His heart hammered as he reset his position, his hands beginning to shake. He’d never performed so poorly before. If he didn’t win, then… If he didn’t win, then…What exactly?

Everyone would be disappointed.

Or would they? His father wasn’t around anymore. Marinette could never be disappointed in him. Kagami might be, but Kagami was often disappointed in a lot of things. His therapist? Wasn’t the whole point of this exercise to figure out if he actually liked fencing? If he didn’t like it, they could just cross it off the list. But did he like it?

Adrien shook himself before readying for their next set. His mind worked through every step, eyes looking for the holes in her guard with each movement, then finally, he spotted it. His saber sliced through the opening, touching her chest. They took a few steps back, and Adrien lifted his helmet to flash her a smug grin.

“I haven’t practiced in months, but I still scored a point on you. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s been slacking on their training,” he said.

“Need I remind you, I still lead by three points,” Kagami said pointedly.

“Not for long.” Adrien lowered his helmet.

In the end, he was all talk as Kagami brutally defeated him, but somehow, he was okay with it. It was the first time he’d ever really had fun while fencing. Marinette arrived to pick him up, her eyes shining as he removed his helmet to kiss her.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in your fencing gear. You’re so cute!” she giggled. “How did you do?”

“He got his butt kicked,” Kagami said.

“Are you okay with that?” Marinette asked.

Adrien pursed his lips and shrugged. “Yeah.”

Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, stretching up to kiss his cheek. “I’m proud of you. It’s nice to see the light back in your eyes.”

“So, what’s the verdict?” his therapist asked.

Adrien considered it, then said, “Fencing is physically and mentally engaging, and there were times that I found it really stress relieving. I think it’s fun as a hobby, but I don’t see myself wanting to compete ever again.”

“It’s a shame, considering you were the only person who could ever hold their own against me, but given how far your skills have fallen, it’s probably for the best,” Kagami said. She removed her gloves and offered him a hand to shake. “Though, should you ever want to spar for fun, I suppose I could go easy on you.”

Adrien accepted her hand with a smile.

“I think those terms are perfectly acceptable,” his therapist said. “Are there any other old hobbies you can think of that you might want to explore next time?”

Adrien trailed his thumb over his ring finger, picturing the view of Paris from above as he leapt from roof to roof. Grey eyes stopped him in his tracks, and he shook his head.

“It’s important for you to know that you did absolutely nothing wrong.” He’d heard that a lot in therapy. “But we must consider how the actions of your family members affect you.” Aka the brand. “It’s been several months since the incidents transpired, but the people of Paris still want answers. You see, well, how shall I put this… The people feel-”

“They want to know if I’m a victim or an accomplice,” he said bluntly. When everyone stared at him in uncomfortable silence, he shrugged and added, “I’ve dealt with my fair share of PR. Plus, I’ve seen the comments online, so you don’t have to sugarcoat anything.”

All of the lawyers typed vigorously on their keyboards without looking at him, and Marinette lowered her gaze, chewing her lip.

Clarisse shifted her weight and nodded. “Very well, then I will cut to the chase. It’s pertinent now that you are stepping back into the public eye that we put out a statement that distances you from your father. You’ll need to condemn his actions and get people to understand that you were a victim and in no way involved with any of his schemes.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Adrien grunted.

“Have Marinette send us a draft by this evening to run through our legal team. Once the statement published, we’ll need to drum up good publicity to solidify your innocence in the eyes of the public,” Clarisse said.

“I plan to donate my family home to be converted into the De-akumatize foundation headquarters,” Adrien said, prompting more typing from the legal team.

“That’s a good start, but we will need to continue our efforts for a while until things calm down. A lot of people were really hurt, and it’s going to take time to regain their trust.”

Adrien’s stomach churned. While he appreciated her directness instead of treating him like a child, the whole ordeal still made his hair stand on end, but he’d do whatever it took to rid himself of his father’s shadow.

“Send us your statement by tonight, and we’ll be in touch,” Clarisse said.

All of the suits followed her from the room, including Danielle who shut the door behind her, leaving Marinette and Adrien alone. With the room cleared, Marinette leaned back in her chair with a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Sorry, I know that was awful,” she said. “It freaks me out when they type like that.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve been in a situation like this. I had to learn a lot when I started modeling. Anything for the good of the brand.” He didn’t bother masking the venom in his voice, then more gently added, “It’s not your fault. You were one of the good guys, remember?”

“You were too.” Her bright blue eyes met his, a lifeline cast in the storm. “I just wish people could see it. I wish they could see you the way I do.”

Adrien leaned his elbow against the arm of the couch, resting his chin on his fist with a boyish smile. “Are you insinuating that I should come out as Chat Noir, m’lady?”

“No!” Marinette said with a huff. “Even now, it’s crucial that our identities remain a secret, even if we’ll never wield the Miraculous again.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He let out a wistful sigh. “It’s a shame. That means I’ll never get to see you in that tight suit ever again.”

The playful glint he knew and loved flashed in her eyes, a coy smirk curling on her lips. “Maybe you will someday—if you ask me nicely.”

Adrien looked her up and down. “Have I ever mentioned I love seeing you in charge?”

“Down, kitty.” She stood and crossed the room to sit next to him on the couch, leaning her head in her spot on his shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to her temple and wrapped his arms around her waist. These were the moments he’d missed most while he was away. Just the two of them curled up together. In those moments, nothing else seemed to matter. At least, that’s how it used to be. Now, when he looked at Marinette, her eyes seemed distant, and the worried crease that always crinkled her brow when Lila was still pulling everyone’s strings had returned.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I just thought everything would get easier when we defeated Hawkmoth, but it’s only gotten more complicated,” she murmured. “When everything happened, we spent months digging ourselves out of that PR nightmare. We lost revenue when Gabriel brand stock crashed, but luckily Audrey had a team to handle all of it. With your father out of the market, people started turning to me for all of their fashion needs, and with no more villains to fight, I took on extra work to keep myself distracted.

Then, we had to figure out a way for Ladybug and ‘Chat Noir’ to officially retire, but with you in the hospital, I had to get creative. I roped Eliott into helping with the fox Miraculous to create an illusion of you to appear by my side. Luckily, he was more than up to the part.” She looked up at him with a pout. “But the worst part was, I was separated from you, and I worried about you all the time. It was almost too much to bear sometimes.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t offer you reassurance sooner. I just… needed time,” he said.

“I know,” she said. “I do, really. You’re going through more than anyone should ever have to. I just wish there was more I could do for you.”

“Marinette…” He gave her hand a squeeze and shifted to touch his forehead to hers. “I’m back now, and I’m never leaving you again. We can both heal together. Me and you against the world.”

Marinette stretched up to kiss him, long and deep, all of her desperation and sorrow bubbling just beneath the surface. Adrien cupped her face, lacing his fingers through the hair on the back of her neck, and she clung to him tightly as if he’d vanish at any moment. When they finally pulled away, she met his gaze with tortured eyes.

“Always,” she whispered.

***

The bakery was warm and smelled of fresh bread when they returned home, making Adrien’s stomach growl. Marinette’s parents greeted them with smiles almost as warm as the bread.

“How did everything go?” M. Dupain asked.

“Fine,” Adrien said. “It’s going to take time, but I can handle it.”

“Well, while you two were out, the mail got delivered, and you have a letter from your aunt in London. I put it on your desk upstairs,” Mme. Cheng said. “We informed her that you’d be staying here when you scheduled your discharge from the hospital.”

“I haven’t heard from my aunt and cousin in years. Father stopped allowing us to visit after my mother fell ill,” Adrien said. He hadn’t even been allowed to visit after his uncle passed away, another method of control he’d unpacked in therapy. 

“Well, that can change if you want it to,” Marinette said with a smile. “We can visit them together soon, and maybe stop in to visit our other friends in London while we’re there.”

That made Adrien smile. “I’d like that.”

Marinette’s phone buzzed in her purse, and she checked the caller ID with a sigh. “This is a client. I have to take it.” She moved toward the back door, turning over her shoulder to say, “Don’t forget to write your statement by the end of the day!” She disappeared out the door and up the stairs.

“She’s always running in twelve different directions,” her mother sighed. “Go on up. I’ll bring you a snack shortly.”

“Thank you,” Adrien said.

Marinette had retreated up to her room, and Adrien could barely make out her voice from the living room. He paid her no mind as he made his way down the stairs to his room where the small letter awaited on his desk. His aunt’s handwriting was neat and reminded him of his mother’s handwriting. She really was so much like her twin sister.

Ripping the side of the envelope, Adrien pulled the letter out and unfolded it.

Dear Adrien,

I know it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, but I wanted to check in and make sure you’re okay. Felix and I heard about your father—how awful! To think that’s what he’d been up to all this time. We’re sorry for not trying harder to see you, but you know how your father was.

That was an understatement.

I’m happy that you’ve found a family that loves you and is willing to take care of you, but we’re your family too. If it’s not an inconvenience, we’d love for you to visit and reconnect. Felix may not admit it, but he’s missed you. Write back soon!

Aunt Amelie

A small smile crept over his lips as he reread her words a few times. A visit would be nice. He’d been disconnected from everyone for so long, but now he could do whatever he wanted. Without his Chat Noir duties, he could go anywhere he wanted whenever he wanted. He and Marinette had been mostly tied to Paris the previous summer, but now…

Adrien searched his new desk until he found paper in a drawer, and he spent a few minutes penning a reply to his aunt, accepting her invitation and giving his new phone number. It was small, but it gave Adrien something to look forward to.

A gentle knock rapped on his bedroom door, and at his acknowledgement, Mme. Cheng entered with a basket of folded laundry and a bag of chouquettes—his favorite.

“I brought down your laundry and a snack in case you’re hungry,” she said.

“Thanks.”

She placed the basket on his bed and set the bakery bag on his desk. “What did your aunt want?”

“She invited me to visit them in London,” Adrien said.

“That’s exciting. I’m sure it will be good to spend some time with your family,” she said.

Adrien smiled up at her. “You’re my family too.”

Mme. Cheng’s face softened. “I’m happy you feel that way. You are our family.”

“I appreciate you and M. Dupain letting me stay here and taking care of me. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt wanted…” Adrien lowered his gaze. “I know all of this is a lot, so I hope I’m not a burden.”

“Family is never a burden,” Mme. Cheng said. “You can stay with us for as long as you’d like. You’ve endured more than any child should have to. I’d never dream of replacing your mother, but if you need someone, I’m here.”

Adrien’s eyes watered, and he stood up to hug her. When they pulled away, Mme. Cheng reached up to smoothed his hair, then nudged the chouquettes closer to him.

“You should eat. Tom and I will be down in the bakery if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Adrien said as she took her leave.

Adrien popped a chouquette in his mouth, scanning over his aunt’s letter again. Things in his life were still hectic, but he was surrounded by people who cared about him. He was different from his father in that regard. When things got difficult, his father retreated away from everyone and slipped deeper into delusion and desperation. Adrien, on the other hand, was reaching out for everyone he could. He wanted to get better, and he would, with help from those around him. His life was already better than it had ever been, and one day he’d stop being haunted by his past.

5:38 AM according to his phone. It wasn’t the slowest time had ever moved for him, but he did find himself wishing someone would wake up to keep him company. While he had his phone out, he clicked the icon for Instagram, and Marinette’s private page popped up with a picture from their homecoming party the day before. In it, their cheeks were pressed together while M. and Mme. Dupain-Cheng held up a cake in the background. There were several messages from their friends, expressing happy sentiments at his return to the outside world and wishing him well. He smiled, liking several comments before continuing to scroll. He’d missed a lot in a few short months — birthday parties, sporting events, charity drives, plays. His friends had kept busy while he was away, not that he expected any different.

He kept scrolling and liking posts, doing his best to avoid any mentions of the incident, but it was only a matter of time before he stumbled across news footage of his father’s mugshot. He closed the app and tossed his phone to the side, squeezing his eyes shut. Grey eyes, hard and cold. He wanted Marinette.

Before he could jump up and run to her room, the light clicked on over the stairs leading to down to the rest of the apartment, and tired footsteps made their way up. Adrien’s heart pounded nervously, and he did his best to mask his anxiety as Mme. Cheng appeared.

“Oh!” She startled, clutching her chest when she saw Adrien sitting awkwardly in the living room. “I didn’t know you were up. Why are you sitting in the dark?”

“I didn’t want to wake anyone up…” he said timidly.

“Oh, dear.” Mme. Cheng placed a hand over her heart. “You’re very thoughtful, but I’m not sure you could wake Marinette if you tried. It’s why she’s always late to school.”

She flicked on the light in the kitchen, and Adrien squinted as his eyes adjusted.

“Are you hungry? I can make some breakfast. Marinette won’t be up for a while, so don’t plan to wait for her,” she said.

“Yes, please.” Adrien shifted his weight as Mme. Cheng moved about the kitchen with purpose. “Can I help with anything?”

“Sure, dear. You can fill the kettle with water for coffee.” She nodded to the electric kettle.

Easy enough. Adrien carried it to the sink and filled it to the line with water. Once that was finished, he stood and patiently waited for his next instruction, and after a moment Mme. Cheng flicked her gaze between him and the kettle. He offered her a small smile, and she pointed to the warmer on the counter.

“Set it there and press the button on the side.” She retrieved the leftover bread from the previous day and sliced it to make toast.

“Right.” That felt obvious.

She moved about the small kitchen with ease, knowing exactly where everything was. Adrien, by contrast, didn’t know where anything was, and stood awkwardly by the fridge while she worked. Feeling in the way, he opted to set the table with two plates and mugs. He sat quietly and watched her work, taking mental notes of what was in each cabinet and drawer for future reference. If the sleepless nights continued, he didn’t want to wait for someone to wake up every time.

“Did you sleep alright?” she asked as she set butter and several jams on the table in front of him.

Adrien didn’t have the heart to tell her what transpired after she and her husband went to bed, so he simply said, “Yeah.”

Mme. Cheng gave him a knowing smile. “It will take some time to adjust, but we hope that you’ll be comfortable here.”

“Thank you — for everything,” he said.

He watched as she pressed the coffee, which she seemed to notice because she held up the kettle and asked, “Would you like some?”

“Uh, sure!” He averted his gaze, cheeks hot after being called out. “Sorry, it’s just that… you do everything so effortlessly, and I can barely figure out how to work a kettle. I’ve always had someone to do everything for me, and being here has me realizing that I don’t know how to be a regular kid.”

“Well—” Mme. Cheng filled his mug — “there are no maids or personal chefs or assistants here, despite Marinette begging to hire someone to do her laundry for her now that she has money to spare. It’s important that we all learn how to do things for ourselves. It’s how we learn to be responsible and appreciate what we have. You’ll learn with time.”

Adrien stared at his reflection in the cup and pursed his lips. “Could you teach me how to make breakfast?”

Mme. Cheng searched his expression, then nodded him over. “Of course.”

Adrien had been taken care of his whole life, or as he’d come to realize through months of therapy, he’d been managed his whole life. Never allowed to make his own decisions. Never allowed to have any kind of independence. Instead, he was expected to perform under a spotlight he never asked for, a pretty show pony in a cage. His father had treated him more like a pedigree poodle than a son.

The Dupain-Cheng’s were different. Marinette knew how to do everything her parents did around the house, and even now, she was expected to. A normal girl with a normal life. Or mostly normal anyway. And for the first time in his life, an adult was treating him like a normal kid. Mme. Cheng was patient and kind as she explained each step to him. Sure, making coffee and toasting some bread wasn’t that difficult, but it was a step. And to him it meant the world.

After breakfast, Mme. Cheng retreated back to her room to dress for the day, and Adrien was left alone again. He tried not to pace, but after several minutes of silence, he couldn’t fight the twitch in his legs. The living room was bigger than his bedroom, but it still wasn’t enough. With a sigh, he turned his attention to the details of the room in an attempt to take his mind off things. Old family photos from Marinette’s childhood were scattered on the walls and bookshelf. She was cute and smiled so freely, unlike the portraits that adorned the walls of his childhood home that bore more somber expressions. He curled his hands into tight fists and resumed pacing.

Mme. Cheng emerged again after a while, but she headed down to the bakery to help her husband open for the day. Adrien flopped back on the couch and picked up the latest issue of Audrey’s magazine resting on the coffee table. Marinette’s brand had a center spread, unsurprisingly. He’d been out of the loop for so long, the designs were foreign to him, contrasting the closeness they’d shared last summer. She used to show him all of her designs excitedly before sending them to Audrey. A chill pricked his spine, and Adrien shivered. He tossed the magazine back on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch.

Snow flurries drifted in the breeze outside, and Adrien rested his cheek against the pillows, watching white flecks out the kitchen window and picturing the bygone summer when things were simpler. Back then, their problems seemed so large. Adrien knew now just how tiny they really were. Lila’s meddling seemed so trivial now.

He closed his eyes, imagining the warm summer sun on his bare shoulders while they lounged by the pool at the Grand Paris. The gentle pressure of Marinette’s lips on his own and the soft curl of her fingers around his hand. He’d never been happier.

Lost to his fantasies, he must have dozed off because the windows were brighter when Mme. Cheng returned to the apartment, the smell of fresh croissants wafting in with her. Adrien blinked a few times to reorient himself. She offered him a smile, setting a plate of buttery pastries on the kitchen table.

“I brought up a snack if you’re still hungry,” she said. “You can turn on the TV if you’d like. There’s not much on this early other than the news though.”

“I’m okay,” Adrien said.

Mme. Cheng clicked on the news anyway before retreating down to her bedroom.

The ceiling creaked above him, sluggish footfalls thudding against the hard wood floor signaling that Marinette was awake. He traced her steps all the way to the trap door, which opened as Marinette emerged in the same fluffy pink pajamas she’d been in when she rescued him. Her hair was frizzy and poked out in places, and she descended the stairs with a yawn.

“You’re up early,” Adrien remarked.

“I have a job now,” she grumbled.

He stood up to greet her with a kiss, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest.

“How did you sleep?” she asked.

“Better,” he said. “But more importantly, I learned something new today.”

“Oh?” 

“Your mom taught me how to make breakfast.” He grinned. “Would you like some?”

A smile curled on her lips, and she stretched up to kiss him again. “I’d love some.”

Adrien moved to the kitchen, clumsier and less refined than Mme. Cheng, but he was able to produce two pieces of toast and a fresh cup of coffee for her — two creams and one sugar, just how she liked. He presented it to her with a proud beam that earned him an affectionate hair ruffle.

“Thank you, kitty,” she said. “Will you get me a yogurt from the fridge?”

“Of course.” He handed it to her with a bow.

The doorbell rang as Adrien sat next to Marinette at the table, and Mme. Cheng emerged from downstairs to answer it. Heels clacked against the wood floors as Marinette’s assistant approached, dressed in a tasteful Marinette-branded pantsuit with her nose buried in a tablet. Adrien recalled Nathalie doing the same to him every morning, but the thought brought with it flashes of things he was trying not to think about, so he shifted his gaze to the table.

“Morning, Danielle,” Marinette said.

“You have another long day ahead of you, Marinette. You’re presenting your summer collection to be carried in several boutiques around Paris, then you have a magazine interview, lunch with Audrey and a couple investors, plus you promised to make an appearance at the De-akumatize foundation,” Danielle recited.

“Right.” Marinette sighed. She shoved a large spoonful of yogurt in her mouth, then retreated back upstairs to get dressed.

Mme. Cheng offered Danielle a cup of coffee while they waited, and she helped herself to a croissant. Adrien drummed his fingers on his thighs, watching Danielle expectantly.

She offered him a smile and asked, “How are you, Adrien?”

“I’m…” He would spare her the details. “Adjusting.” That seemed safe.

“Good.” She nodded, taking a sip of coffee.

She and Mme. Cheng struck up a conversation about Marinette’s work, and after a couple minutes, Adrien cleared his throat.

“So, what’s on my schedule today?” he asked.

Mme. Cheng and Danielle eyed him a moment, the same crease bending their brows. It was a look Adrien knew all too well at this point — the look of pity. Every time he saw it, his pulse quickened, and the small hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.  

“Well, dear, you can do whatever you want,” Mme. Cheng said finally.

Adrien pursed his lips, mulling that statement for a moment. “Shouldn’t I accompany Marinette?”

“It’s best if you stay behind today,” Danielle said. “You haven’t been officially reintroduced into the public yet since your release, and we’ve already been getting phone calls from reporters who want to hear your side of the story. If you’re seen publicly now, the press will have a field day, so it’s better if you lay low until we can discuss how to navigate your…circumstances.” She said the last word delicately, almost as if she were apologizing.

Adrien turned to Mme. Cheng, who offered him a similarly apologetic wince.

“So… What? I just stay inside all day?” His stomach churned at the thought.

“I know it’s not what you want, but it’s not forever.” Mme. Cheng moved to cup his cheek. “You can do whatever you want in the apartment. There’s games and books, you can watch TV or a movie or anything you want.”

Adrien lowered his gaze, tears burning in his eyes, but Marinette’s return shifted everyone’s attention. She descended the stairs in a long pink trench coat that covered black dress pants and a pink blouse, a pair of black heels in her hands. Adrien shoved his dejection down and offered her a smile as she trotted over to kiss him goodbye.

“I’m sorry we can’t spend more time together this morning, but I’ll be back this afternoon, okay?” she said.

“Kay.”

“Tom and I will be downstairs in the bakery if you need anything,” Mme. Cheng said.

Adrien nodded, painting on a smile as everyone left him alone, but once the apartment door shut behind them, he deflated. He thought things would be different here, but so far, it was more of the same. Everyone had places to be without him, and as usual, he was left alone, unable to go out or do anything that wasn’t contained within four walls. He shook himself and took a deep breath.

Mme. Cheng was right. It wouldn’t be forever. No one had any intention of locking him up for long. They just needed a few days to sort some things out. He could totally survive a few days. Afterall, he’d survived 15 years already, and technically one of those years he was allowed to go outside and meet people… It sounded sad, now that he thought about it. But the Dupain-Cheng’s weren’t like his father. Everything was new for them too, and in time, they would all adjust…

Adrien resumed pacing the living room. It was bigger than his small bedroom, but the arrangement of the furniture made it difficult to keep a steady pace. After a few loops, he determined it wasn’t as satisfying and retreated back downstairs. Although the rigidity of his daily routine had been monotonous and grating at times, he missed the structure. Even in the hospital, he had a fixed schedule. What did one do with free time? His muscles were twitchy, and he couldn’t bring himself to sit still. What would he normally have done before?

Well, most of his mornings started with some kind of workout, though the Dupain-Cheng’s didn’t have a personal gym to use, let alone any equipment. Then again, he hadn’t had any in the hospital either, but that didn’t stop him then. He didn’t need weights to work out. A treadmill might have been nice for some cardio, but he supposed the previous night counted enough for that. He did pushups, stretched, completed a few sets of crunches, he even used Marinette’s loft to do some pull-ups, but all of that only took him about twenty minutes.

What was next? A shower, usually, but that only lasted another thirty minutes because the water got cold. He wasn’t used to the water getting cold. Did other people live like this? Were they really walking around with limited hot water? Was this normal? Ugh, he was starting to sound like Chloe, but seriously, only thirty minutes of hot water?! How did anyone wash anything?

Contemplating the complexities of social classes only lasted twenty minutes before he started to feel guilty for all of the things he took for granted, and the anxiety made him want to pace again. In an attempt to take his mind off of things, he cracked open his school notes and tried to study while he paced, but it got boring quickly. He’d studied on his own for years, and it wasn’t the same as being in a classroom with other people. At least in the hospital, there was a tutor to review with him.

Adrien flopped onto his bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling again. His vision blurred, and a hot tear sliced down his cheek. It had taken several months of therapy for him to come to terms with events from his life, and even now, he was still processing a lot of things. He was still feeling a lot of things. Too many things.

Everyone was treating him the same way his father had, locking him up and hiding him from the world. No, this was different. They weren’t controlling him; they were protecting him. Isn’t that what his father used to say? It was different this time. But how could they leave him alone knowing what he’d been through? Didn’t they realize that he’d spent his whole life locked away and alone? Why would they leave him?  

The burning tightness filled his chest, leaving Adrien gasping as if there wasn’t enough air. He rolled onto his side and curled into a ball, his ragged gasps and whimpers echoing in the barren room. Hands shaking, lungs burning, vision blurring. He needed to calm down. Marinette loved him. M. and Mme. Dupain-Cheng loved him. It wasn’t their fault they had things to do. They just needed to find where he belonged. If he belonged. He was still bothered about the shower thing. On second thought, maybe a cold shower would shock his system.

He returned to the bathroom and flicked on the shower again. The cold water felt like needle pricks on his skin, but it did snap him out of his spiral for the moment. What was wrong with him? Aside from the years of pent up daddy issues and the psychological control he’d endured. Actually, no, that was exactly what was wrong with him. He wished he could call his therapist… He could call his therapist!

Adrien turned off the shower, shivering as he grabbed another towel and wrapped it around his shoulders. Once he’d warmed up a little, he dried off and dressed again before heading upstairs to retrieve his phone. It took a few rings, but finally, his therapist answered.

“Hello, Adrien.” 

“Hey, sorry, do you have a minute?” Adrien had resumed pacing the living room’s unsatisfying loop.

“I have an appointment coming in a few minutes, but I can spare a moment. Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Well…” Adrien explained his struggles, and she listened, just like always. “I guess, I just can’t figure out why I feel this way. I’ve wanted the freedom to do whatever I want my whole life, but now, in a weird way, I find myself feeling envious of my girlfriend for having a schedule. I just don’t know what to do with myself.”

“So, you’re struggling to adjust?”

“Yeah…” Adrien shifted his gaze to his feet.

“That’s normal.”

Adrien stopped, eyebrows knitting together in bewilderment. “Normal?”

“Well, normal for someone with your experiences,” she said. “You’ve never been allowed to make your own decisions, and that is damaging, but when it’s all you’ve ever known, it can also feel safe because it’s familiar. And now, you’ve been pushed into unfamiliar territory, and it’s going to be scary and uncomfortable at first. You may even find yourself craving the old ways because it’s what you were used to.”

Adrien was amazed at the ease with which she recognized exactly how he was feeling. “So, what should I do?”

“Tell you what, I have to go, but we will do more occupational therapy next time you come in and explore what Adrien likes. Until then, I’ll send in an adjustment to your medication now that you’re back out in the real world. Hopefully it will help with the pacing,” she said.

“Okay,” Adrien said. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I was actually expecting to hear from you before our next appointment.” When he remained quiet, she added, “Adjusting will take time, Adrien. You’ll get there.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

“I’ll see you next week, okay?” she said.

“Yeah, see you then.” Adrien hung up.

He felt a little better, but being alone in the apartment still made him anxious, so he headed downstairs to the bakery. Marinette’s parents were hard at work preparing more bread and pastries for the displays. It made Adrien feel bad for interrupting, but when M. Dupain saw him, he flashed Adrien a smile.

“Getting lonely, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck guiltily.

“Why don’t you invite someone over, dear?” Mme. Cheng suggested.

“Uh, can I?” Adrien asked. “I’d hate to let people intrude in your home.”

“It’s your home now too, you know,” Mme. Cheng said.

“Alright.” He shifted his weight. “Um, also I called my therapist, and she’s going to adjust my medication. Could you pick it up when it’s ready?”

“I’ll add it to my to do list.” She nodded.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Here, take a pain au chocolat for a snack.” M. Dupain bagged one up for him.

“I can’t pay for it…” Adrien curled his shoulders.

“Family doesn’t pay in this bakery,” he said.

A small smile curled on Adrien’s lips, and he thanked them both before heading back upstairs. The croissant was still warm when Adrien bit into it, the chocolate melty and delicious between the buttery layers. He’d definitely get used to living above a bakery. While he ate, he scrolled his contacts for someone to invite over. It was winter break, but everyone was always so busy. Plus, he couldn’t go anywhere. What he wouldn’t give to go see a movie with Nino or to play tennis with Eliott and Martin.

Marinette’s picture flashed on his screen, and Adrien swiped the green icon to answer.

“Hello, my kitty!” She sounded so cheerful, and Adrien had never been happier to hear her voice.

“Hey, buginette. How’s work?”

“Busy,” she said. “Very busy. I’m sorry I had to leave you today, and I know I promised we’d spend time together this afternoon, but one of the investors had something come up, so we had to reschedule lunch with them for another day, but now there’s a problem with a sample, and we have a show coming up in a month, and-”

“No worries. I get it. I’m actually doing fine on my own,” Adrien said. He had a lot of practice masking his disappointment.

“I can tell when you’re lying, Adrien.”

Not enough practice apparently. There really was no hiding anything from her. She knew him so well, and although it was working against him in the moment, it felt good to be seen by someone.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you, but until then, I’m sending in some reinforcements to keep you company in my absence,” she said.

The doorbell rang, and on the other side stood Nino, Eliott, and Martin with two boxes of pizza.

“Bro, you’re finally free!” Nino hugged his neck.

“Marinette told us you were in need of some guy time,” Eliott said.

“We brought pizza and games,” Martin added.

Tears welled in Adrien’s eyes, a smile stretching over his lips. It was the first genuine smile he’d had in a while.

“Have fun, kitty. I love you,” Marinette said in his ear.

“I love you too,” he said.

Nino draped an arm around him as they moved to the living room. “It’s been forever since we’ve seen you. I missed you, bro.”

“I missed you guys too,” Adrien said.

“Isn’t it so nice now? We can just hang whenever we want, and we don’t have to worry about your dad breathing down our necks,” Nino said.

“Yeah…” Adrien glanced between them, the weight of those words sinking in.