#isafic

“…of Police and the Minister of the Interior have issued a joint statement that they intend to form a committee to investigate effective tactics and procedures for future anti-supervillain efforts. Many details about yesterday’s attacks by the supervillains Hawk Moth and Stoneheart are still unclear as the police investigation is ongoing, but sources—”

Caline Bustier turned off the radio app on her phone, pulling out her earplugs and yawning as she approached Collège François-Dupont.

Even a detour to the nearest café for a double espresso did not ease the consequences of her late night research. Her collection of articles, essays, and personal notes sat heavy in her messenger bag, slowing her morning walk. Still, it was worth it.

The city may look the same, but Paris had fundamentally changed in the last two days. Superheroes and supervillains were fighting in the streets for the first time in her life, and Caline worried about how quickly their city’s institutions would respond to the new public threat. She hadn’t heard anything from the Ministry of Education or the school itself yet, but she wanted to help.

The United States of America had the largest concentration of supers in the world, far outstripping any other country in terms of the sheer weirdness they faced. According to her research, their society had adjusted accordingly, preparing their children by organizing evacuation drills and school-wide assemblies about safety during supervillain attacks. There was funding in their education budget earmarked specifically for the professional development of teachers and counsellors, training them on how to support and protect their students during stressful attacks.

If the school made an action plan, Caline could help her own class, and maybe...

“Please, just a moment of your time!” someone pleaded, loud enough to derail her train of thought.

“I said no,” came Ivan’s gruff reply.

Looking towards the front of the school, Caline could see there were a few students idling outside. They were all gravitating towards an unhappy Ivan Bruel and… Nadja Chamack, television reporter, accompanied by her own personal camera crew.

This was not good. Caline walked faster, hoping to deescalate the situation.

“I just wanted to ask a few questions—” Nadja began, only to be cut off by Ivan.

“Leave me alone!” he snapped, turning away with a frown. He stopped short when saw Caline standing in his path. “Mlle Bustier?”

“Is there something the matter here?” asked Caline, eyeing them both.

“Yes,” Ivan confirmed at the same time Nadja Chamack said, “Not at all!”

Nadja’s smile inched wider as Ivan’s scowl deepened.

“I’m Nadja Chamack from TVi,” she said, as if she wasn’t the most popular news reporter in Paris. “I was hoping to get a quote from this young man as to why he chose to work with Hawk Moth?”

Caline stiffened. “What?” Chose?

Ivan crossed his arms and turned away, refusing to look at anyone. His silent anger was palpable, so much that it scared her, like a vine of fear that crept up Caline’s spine. She recognized the feeling and ripped it out by the roots, furious at her own kneejerk reaction.

She wouldn’t let a supervillain prejudice her against her own students.

“I said I was hoping to understand why Stoneheart agreed to work with Hawk Moth?” Nadja repeated.

Caline gritted her teeth and then forced a smile, the air of frustration around Ivan galvanizing and shaming her at the same time.

“Mme Chamack, no one by the name of Stoneheart goes to this school.”

Ivan turned back, joining Nadja in stunned silence.

“He’s—he’s right there,” said Nadja as he pointing at Ivan. Both of them looked at Caline, baffled.

“He is my student, and I assure you that his parents did not name him Stoneheart,” Caline said, her calm fraying around the edges.

Nadja’s grip on her microphone visibly tightened. “I’m just trying to get some context—”

“The context, Mme Chamack, is that you’re harassing a child and implying that he co-operated with the supervillain that mind-controlled him and several other people yesterday, and all while he’s trying to get his education.” Caline forced down her anger and gestured to the sidewalk. “I’m going to have to ask you to vacate the premises.”

It took a moment, but Nadja finally pulled back her microphone and waved at her camera crew. “Let’s go,” she ordered, her tone clipped.

Caline watched them leave, her hand on her hip as they packed film equipment into a van and drove off. Only after they had did she allow herself to look around.

There was a ring of students around her, one of them holding out a phone. Caline felt her insides twist with self-consciousness.

“Go on, you all have class soon,” she said.

Her words were enough to scatter them, running shoes and flats scampering up the steps and into the school. Caline sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she tried to collect herself.

She’d have to keep an eye out for more people like Nadja.

“Thanks,” Ivan said quietly.

Caline turned to speak, but Ivan was already gone, jogging into the school with red-tipped ears.

---

A week later, Caline stared at her own image on the TV in the teacher’s lounge, her horror intensifying by the second.

“—implying that he co-operated with the supervillain that mind-controlled him and several other people yesterday, and all while he’s trying to get his education.”

Unable to watch any longer, Caline dropped her head on her desk and groaned.

“That viral video was shot by Alya Césaire, the same amateur who provided the footage identifying Ladybug and Chat Noir last week,” Nadja Chamack reported.

“That girl is going to be a handful,” said Mendeleiev. Caline heard papers rustling beside her as Mendeleiev went back to marking quizzes.

“I would like to take this opportunity to apologize for my behaviour in this video. In the aftermath of an attack, I sought to blame the victims of its perpetrator, including the young boy that was specifically targeted by the ‘akuma’.”

“I can’t believe they’re showing it on the news,” Caline moaned, still mortified.

“It was wrong of me. I am truly sorry for the harm and distress that my actions—”

Mercifully, the TV shut off. Caline lifted her head in time to catch Mendeleiev putting down the remote.

“It’s been all over the internet, what did you expect?” asked Mendeleiev.

“I don’t know!” Caline hissed, frazzled. “Just—not this! I’m lucky M. Damocles hasn’t fired me yet!”

“If you think he’ll fire you for protecting a student and making the school look good, you’re sillier than I thought,” Mendeleiev sniffed, right before scribbling on someone’s failed quiz in red ink. “Now, how far along are you with that akuma action plan or whatever you called it?”

Gabriel shouldered open the door of the café, quickly getting into line and just as quickly tuning out his surroundings to focus on his sketchbook.

He scribbled out the third hoodie he’d drawn today and sighed. His professor for Advanced Fashion Design would never accept something so casual for his end-of-term project. It needed be something…something—

“Perfect,” Gabriel muttered as he looked up from the page, only to freeze when he met amused, green eyes.

“You’re bold this morning,” the pretty barista teased. “Double espresso again?”

Even if this small café was the closest one to his classes, he came in here entirely too often if the baristas were memorizing his orders. Especially this one.

This barista was an impressionist vision, with her soft blonde hair pulled into a loose bun and her smile crinkling her eyes, lending charm to her heart-shaped face. If Gabriel was less occupied with his course load and interning at his father’s company, he may have felt inclined to ask her to model for him.

(No matter what Duusu said, it was not a crush. His was a purely aesthetic appreciation of her beauty, and he would absolutely not allow himself to nurse such childish affections. It was unthinkable.)

The silence stretched, and the barista held back a laugh as Gabriel felt his face heat against his will.

(He did not have a crush.)

“Yes, thank you,” said Gabriel, trying to get a hold of himself. “Please add a croissant to the order, Mme…” His eyes darted down to her name tag. Curiously, she never wore the same one twice. Today, she hadn’t even bothered putting one on, opting instead for a pin with a sideways eight on it. “…Infinity?”

The newly dubbed Mme Infinity grinned, revealing her bunny teeth. “That’ll be €4, monsieur.”

Gabriel reached into his blazer for his wallet, giving himself time to gather his wits—not that he needed it, he was perfectly capable of ordering breakfast without being distracted—

The peacock kwami he was holding out instead of his wallet begged to differ.

Mme Infinity stared at the extremely stiff Duusu, mouth parting as she pointed at the kwami he was still showing her. “That’s—!”

“A Beanie Baby,” interrupted Gabriel, swiftly tucking Duusu back into his blazer. He kept his face neutral as he thought faster than he ever had in his entire life. “Quite popular in America right now, I understand. I’ve been studying them for class.” That was too many details, you’re making this lie seem less believable. Gabriel pulled out his wallet, mentally stilling his shaking fingers. “My apologies, €5 you said?”

Her eyes darted from his blazer to his face to his wallet and then back to his face. She slowly put down her hand and swallowed, a pink flush appearing on her cheeks.

Suddenly, Gabriel found it very hard to concentrate.

“€4,” she answered quietly, taking the euro note he held out to her and opening the till. “Christophe, a double espresso please!”

The dreadlocked barista (who Gabriel now realized had been watching the entire exchange) flashed him a cheeky grin and settled into making his espresso.

All too soon, Gabriel was tucking away his change and croissant as Mme Infinity presented him with his drink. She seemed to have recovered, shooting him a wink that twisted his insides with—absolutely nothing.

“Don’t forget your receipt,” she said with a sly smile.

Later, when Gabriel settled down into a quiet corner of the library with his breakfast and sketch book, Duusu popped out of his blazer with a squinty-eyed pout.

“I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry,” said the kwami. “A Beanie Baby? Really?”

“Hush,” said Gabriel. “I need to finish this design before tomorrow.”

“You’ll be fine, you’ll come up with something brilliant at the last minute like you always do,” said Duusu, waving his stub dismissively.

Gabriel wasn’t sure if he should be pleased with the compliment, back-handed as it was.

“More importantly, have you checked your receipt?” Duusu demanded, flying into Gabriel’s face. His kwami’s feathered tail was quivering with excitement. “Ooooooh, what if it’s a love letter?!”

Scoffing as he reached into his pocket for the slip of paper, Gabriel shot his kwami a withering look. “As if that barista would bother with such silly—”

Gabriel froze. When he held up the receipt for Duusu, he saw the back of it for the first time.

There, in purple ink, was a woman’s name, a number, and the message ‘Call me, handsome!’ punctuated with a heart-winged butterfly.

It was a miracle that Duusu’s squeal of delight didn’t get them kicked out.

---

Years later, Gabriel closed the safe door, locking away the Peacock Miraculous again. Gently pushing his wife’s painting back over the safe, Gabriel sat at his desk and went through his company’s finances until his appointment arrived.

The knock on his office door came quickly, and Gabriel almost asked Nathalie to open it before remembering she called in sick. Sighing through his nose, he stood and walked over to the door, swinging it open quickly.

His son was fidgeting outside, jumping when Gabriel appeared. “F-Father! Hi!”

“Adrien,” said Gabriel, clasping his hands behind his back. He walked back to his desk, fully expecting Adrien to follow. “Do you know why I called you here today?”

As he sat in his chair, Gabriel saw Adrien tighten his grip on his school bag.

“Did…you want to go out for dinner? Together?” his son guessed, looking hopeful.

“Of course not, we have a perfectly good chef,” said Gabriel. As Adrien’s smile fell, Gabriel clasped his hands in front of him. “No, we’re here to talk about your education.”

“My education?” Adrien echoed.

“Yes. Normally, Nathalie would be handling this, but as she’s come down with the flu…” Gabriel trailed off and then extended his hand, waiting. “I believe report cards were handed out today.”

Adrien jolted before looking up at Gabriel with wide eyes.

“O-of course! Let me just—” Adrien paused to tear open his bag and rummage inside before pulling out a kwami. “Here! I hope—”

A black kwami with cat ears. One held in Adrien’s hand, which coincidentally bore a silver ring shaped exactly the same as the Black Cat Miraculous.

There were no words to describe how furious Gabriel was—at himself for missing what were now painfully obvious clues, at Adrien for daring to defy his father and put himself in more danger than he could possibly imagine, at his staff for not noticing that their charge was a superhero—

“U-uh, this, um—it’s uh,” Adrien began, no doubt trying to come up with an excuse as to why he had a kwami.

Except he wouldn’t know that Gabriel knew about kwami. There was still a way to salvage this situation until Gabriel could take a moment to incorporate this new information into his plans.

(And he ignored the look of panic and shock on his son’s face that reminded him of golden sunlight in a café, so many years ago.)

(…Now there was an idea.)

“A Beanie Baby,” Gabriel reasoned for his son, his face carefully blank. “I didn’t realize they were still popular with people of your age group.”

“A…Beanie Baby?” Adrien repeated slowly. He held his kwami closer to him, no recognition of the term in his eyes.

Gabriel abruptly felt very old.

“Yes, a Beanie Baby, a vaguely animal-like doll such as the one in your hand,” said Gabriel, his tone deliberately sharp. “I’m growing tired of these stalling tactics—your report card, Adrien. Now.”

“R-right!”

Adrien hurriedly tucked his kwami back out of sight and pulled out the report card. Gabriel took it, noting the relieved slump of Adrien’s shoulders, before putting revelations regarding Chat Noir aside to review the report.

“So, Father,” Adrien began, breaking the silence. “Do you…like, uh, Beanie Babies?”

Glancing at Adrien over the rim of his glasses, Gabriel folded a hand under his chin as he went back to reading. “I would like you to have a better mark in Arts and Crafts.”

His son laughed sheepishly and dropped the subject.

---

But did not forget, apparently. The Beanie Baby gift basket Nathalie presented him on Father’s Day proved that.

Gabriel eyed the stuffed animals and toiletries suspiciously as Nathalie plucked an envelope from its depths.

“For you, sir,” she said, offering it to him.

Inside was a gift certificate for a Parent-Child day at a spa. Paid for out of Adrien’s own savings, no doubt.

Gabriel turned his head to take in the painting of his wife.

Ladybug has an instant to register Chat’s back shielding her. Then the point of Hawk Moth’s sword cane erupts from the centre, splattering her with blood.

She’s screaming even as she catches Chat, hugging him to her as his eyes flutter shut and his breath stops.

She’s silent as she lays his dead body on the ground and lunges for Hawk Moth, bloodied sword limp as he stares at the boy he murdered. One hit in the jaw from the Lucky Charm in her hand—a kettlebell—and Hawk Moth goes down.

Ladybug rips the Butterfly Miraculous off his suit and barely stops herself bringing the kettlebell down on his head.

Hawk Moth is Gabriel Agreste.

Adrien’s father.

Ladybug drops the Lucky Charm to the side, using her free hand to drag Gabriel up by his collar. The edges of the Butterfly Miraculous dig into her clenched fist.

He looks at her with blank eyes. She can’t stop shaking.

(Adrien was murdered by his own father.)

She heaves, tossing him at the feet of the police officers who have been watching their battle from afar. Then she picks up the kettlebell, heavier than anything she’s ever lifted.

(Chat’s life is in her hands.)

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

---

Chat is alive and fragile in a way that prickles Ladybug’s skin. It feels wrong to see her brave, energetic kitty as an ashen statue, his gaze so distant, it’s beyond her reach.

He barely reacts when she carries him back to his room, when she lays him out on his bed, when Plagg cries over him in relief. Tears well at the edges of her eyes. She doesn’t know what to do.

Adrien looks at the ceiling with the same blank eyes as his father, and Marinette stays.

---

It’s getting late, and Marinette needs to be home.

(It’s getting late, and Marinette can’t stop thinking that this isn’t Adrien’s home.)

Gathering what courage she has left, Ladybug invites Adrien to stay with her family.

He deserves better than to stay here in the place he was hurt, that hurts him even now, and she’s useless—

Adrien shakes his head.

“I need to be alone,” he tells her, his voice cracking and wet.

“O-okay,” says Ladybug because that’s all she can say. “Text me later?”

“Yeah,” he says.

---

That night, after returning the Butterfly Miraculous to Master Fu, Marinette stares at her phone.

So I’m emancipated now. Father’s idea.

She keeps staring, staring, staring, and concentrates on breathing.

Adrien was his own man now.

(His father threw him away.)

He could make his own decisions about his life.

(His father threw him away.)

His father would rot in jail for the rest of his miserable life and could never hurt her Adrien again.

(His father threw him away.)

Marinette curls up on her bedspread, phone still clutched in her hands. Downstairs, Papa is closing up the bakery with Mama. Her warm Papa, who played games with her and taught her to decorate cakes and held her when Chloé made her cry.

“It’s not fair,” she chokes out, and Tikki nestles in her hair, whispering nothings as she wills her trembling fingers to type.

call me

please

---

The world goes from wrong to insane as Marinette is hounded by her schoolmates and Adrien is hounded by the media.

For the next two days, he refuses to talk to anyone. Not a word to her, to his friends, and Marinette walks around with a sick knot low in her stomach. It loosens when Nino proposes that they—Nino, Marinette, and Alya—break past the crowds howling for blood and storm the mansion itself.

The plan goes off without a hitch. At least, until they meet Adrien.

(“He hurt all of you,” says Adrien.

“He hurt you too,” says Alya.)

He ends up burying his head in Marinette’s shoulder, weak laughter folding into gasping sobs. Marinette runs her fingers through his hair and remembers how he powerless she felt holding him as he died.

Later, when the movie they put on is winding down, Marinette and Adrien slip away from their sleeping friends to talk in the kitchen.

“I found this in…in his office,” says Adrien, showing Marinette the Peacock Miraculous.

(She should have smashed the kettlebell into Hawk Moth’s face.)

---

Marinette hovers over Adrien when he comes to school the next day, sticking close enough to hold his hand and pull him into a quiet corner when needed. He doesn’t seem to mind.

Luckily, most of their classmates leave Adrien alone, running interference with the rest of the student body or offering small gestures of sympathy.

After school, they return the Peacock Miraculous to Master Fu together. Master Fu and Marinette watch Adrien as his eyes stay glued to the Butterfly Miraculous. When all the unclaimed Miraculous are tucked away again, Adrien blinks and twists his lips.

“If you’re free,” Master Fu begins suddenly, “I have a garden on the roof that needs weeding.”

Marinette takes Adrien’s hand. He grips it almost painfully tight.

“I have a photoshoot,” Adrien mumbles.

He doesn’t move.

“We’re free,” Marinette finally says, tugging them both up the stairs.

---

“Are you sure about this?” Marinette asks a week later as Adrien brushes his hair in his bathroom. Tikki and Plagg huddle together on top of the dresser, looking down at them with solemn eyes. “You don’t have to go.”

(He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness.)

“I’m…just visiting,” says Adrien. He reaches into the cabinets under the sink to pull out a tub of gel. He uses it to style his hair from fluffy Chat Noir to smooth Adrien Agreste. “Father’s in jail. He can’t hurt anyone. Not anymore.”

(He hurt you, Adrien.)

Marinette draws close enough to pull him into a hug. He startles but quickly hugs her back, kissing her forehead. She rests her ear on his chest, listening to the steady drum of his heart.

(He won’t change.)

“Are you sure?” she asks again, closing her eyes.

“I’m sure,” he answers.

When Chat crawls in through her balcony window later that day, shivering with the same blank stare of his cooling corpse, Marinette folds around him. As if she could somehow protect him.

(He doesn’t deserve you.)

---

Adrien starts coming over more and more. He has his own toothbrush at Marinette’s and Nino’s. He learns to make penne at Alya’s mother’s elbow. Their group takes the train to Versailles, spending the morning in the palace and the afternoon in the gardens.

Something unclenches in Marinette as Adrien tries different things. None of them have anything to with his father’s failing company or the empty mansion that is now Paris’ most expensive storage unit.

One day, when she returns from helping out her parents at the bakery, Adrien is waiting for her in her room. There’s a new layer of papier-mâché on her sculpture for art class, and Marinette quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Papier-mâché fairy,” he whispers loudly, the upward twitch of his lips giving him away. “They always leave a paper trail.”

Marinette picks up one of the pillows on her lounge and throws it at him as he laughs.

---

The prison guard glares at Marinette as she waits outside the gate, and Marinette ignores everything but the sight of Adrien walking out from his visit. She waves her hand, and the tired hunch of his shoulders disappears into stiff-backed surprise.

“What are you doing here?” he asks as he takes her hand. Marinette presses a soft kiss to his cheek.

“I thought you might need some company,” she says. Adrien’s eyes are red rimmed, but not blank, and Marinette feels ridiculously grateful.

He sniffs and flashes her a weak grin. “Can’t resist all this, huh?”

“Never,” Marinette agrees, and they slowly make their way back home. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adrien looks away to think, staring up at the sky.

“Do you think it’s stupid to try talking to him?” he asks her.

(Yes.)

“Do you think he’s changed?” Marinette asks instead, pushing away her rage.

“No,” says Adrien. “He said he loves me. That he never meant to hurt me.”

(He murdered you.)

“But he doesn’t seem to think what he did was wrong,” Adrien continues. “None of it.”

Marinette thinks back to the years of bullying from Chloé and fighting against Hawk Moth. It’s nothing compared to what Adrien’s been through. Even thinking of that final battle, that awful day, brings with it a creeping sense of horror, tainting her worldview with the crippling feelings of helplessness and hate.

Adrien saved her life, and she couldn’t even help him with this.

“I can’t decide what to think for you,” says Marinette. “I’m sorry.”

Marinette watches him as he watches his feet.

“It doesn’t feel…I can’t not try to fix things with him,” he says. He squeezes her hand. “He’s my father. I can’t abandon him.”

Leaning her head against his shoulder, Marinette closes her eyes to stop the tears threatening to spill and squeezes back.

(He never deserved you.)

Ladybug cleansed the akuma, watching it fly free with a smile on her face. It journeyed to a rooftop garden that ran wild with red and black roses.

Chat Noir emerged from the shadows and slid up to her, tail swaying lazily from side-to-side. He shot her a teasing smile. “Well, that was fast. We didn’t even get to use our powers.”

“We were lucky,” said Ladybug. She hooked her yoyo back onto her hip, her eyes scanning the evening horizon before lingering on the streak of light that was the Eiffel Tower. “I saw the akuma landing on the victim, so…”

“What a coincidence, so did I!” Chat leaned into her space, eyes lidding suggestively as he spoke in her ear. “I wonder just how close we were, my lady.”

Ladybug pinched his nose and gently shook his head.

“Too close for naughty kitties like you,” she quipped before pushing him back.

Chat blinked as he rocked back on his heels, as if he couldn’t believe that she could give back as good as she got. Then he broke into a grin, looking completely undeterred by her deflection.

“Nobody’s purrfect,” he said. “But you love me anyway.”

“Hmmm, do I?” asked Ladybug, tapping her chin in mock thought. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

Chat opened his mouth—no doubt delighted at the chance to list all his qualities that his lady must find lovable, surely—before his ears flicked up and to his left. His head followed, gaze landing on a tree bordering a park.

He smirked and ran to the edge of the rooftop, Ladybug quickly following his lead.

“Well,” he began, leaping to the next building. “I’m selfless. Here I am, with the precious opportunity to spend time with you, and I use it to save a cat stuck in a tree.”

“There’s a cat down there?” Ladybug asked. They landed in the park and headed towards the tree Chat eyed earlier.

“Yup, heard it crying from the roof.” Chat put a hand to his heart as they ran, looking distant even as he searched for the cat’s location in the tree’s branches. “I must be so generous and heroic to rescue this poor kitty.”

“Humble, too,” Ladybug said dryly, smiling when she heard Chat’s chuckle.

She stopped at the foot of the tree, watching as Chat Noir ran right up the trunk and into its shadowed canopy, arms stretched out behind him.

Ladybug rolled her eyes (A Naruto run? Really?) while Chat landed on the same branch as the cat.

It was a dirty stray, young and thin, but oddly trusting of Chat’s beckoning fingers.

“That’s it,” he murmured, taking the kitten in his arms. Chat scratched under its chin, just like Ladybug was prone to do to him.

He hopped down, a few loose leaves drifting around him as he landed. Grinning, he pressed his cheek against the kitten’s and turned to face Ladybug. “Another reason you love me: I’m practically twins in cuteness with this little guy.”

Ladybug shook her head, feeling another smile tug at her lips as she walked forward. She petted the kitten, making sure to scratch behind its ears.

“You two must be fraternal twins because you’re way more handsome,” she cooed to the kitten. “Aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

“Me-ouch,” said Chat. He pouted, ears flattening against his head. He looked like Manon whenever she was going home but didn’t want to leave.

Laughing, Ladybug reached up with her other hand and petted Chat’s cat ears. He leaned into her touch, eyes closing in bliss as he hummed his pleasure.

“Don’t worry, kitty. You’re still my favourite,” she teased.

When he opened his eyes, they took in cool moonlight and warm streetlight to reflect a soft, green glow, making his knowing smile all the more…

(Enchanting, Ladybug thought before quickly pretending she never did.)

Suddenly, the space between them felt both too close and too, too far.

“I’m your favourite because you love me,” said Chat.

No hesitation. No question in his voice.

Ladybug was hyperaware of her fingers tangled in the fluffy strands of his blond hair, of his leathery cat ear flicking against her palm. She let her hand lower, pushing back his hair to trace the shell of his human ear.

Somehow, it didn’t help her think.

“I…” Ladybug couldn’t turn away from his steady gaze, his sure smile. “Chat, that’s…”

Gently, still looking into her eyes (admiring her), he took one hand away from the kitten and wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer.

Even though he telegraphed every movement, Ladybug still felt shaken, taking her hand away from the kitten to brace herself against his chest. Almost unwillingly, her other hand carded through his hair before gripping it, fingers curling as she swallowed dryly.

“If you ever said ‘no’, I would have stopped flirting with you,” Chat told her. She could feel the rumble of his words in his chest, his belt tail curling loosely around her calf. She tried not to think about why she wasn’t moving away. “But you don’t say that. You say ‘later’ and ‘not right now’, and sometimes… sometimes you flirt back.”

Ladybug had already prepared answers for this, she knew.

(This was just their way of interacting, ever since Hawk Moth started terrorizing Paris and they needed to distract themselves from the fear, the panic, the weight of their responsibilities.)

(This was just a bit of fun and she knew Chat would stop, if she said the word.)

(This was just the mask and the feeling of boldness it gave her, like she was the type of person who would never allow the likes of Chloé Bourgeois push her around for years.)

(This was just Chat with a tiny crush, one he was content not to seriously pursue in a way that she, in his place, never could be.)

Her excuses were all true and all lies.

“…I like it,” Ladybug finally admitted. “No one’s ever treated me the way you do.”

Chat seemed satisfied with her answer. He leaned forward, and she really thought he would try to kiss her.

(Ladybug remembered a spell broken by tasting black lips, how she carefully forgot that it lasted longer than she meant it to.

She didn’t know what to do with wanting to kiss him back.)

Instead, Chat rested his forehead on hers, the hard bridge of his mask pressing against her nose.

“I’d treat you like a queen, if you let me love you,” he said. Ladybug sucked in a startled breath.

She’d been confessed to before…but not like this.

(Not by her partner.)

“Let me love you,” he repeated, his tone low and patient. The kitten wiggled free from Chat’s grip, dropping to the ground as Chat stepped closer. The space between their bodies disappeared and Chat cupped Ladybug’s nape, tilting her head up.

She could feel his breath on her face, washing over her skin. Her hand slid up from his chest to tangle itself in his hair.

The truth she kept denying for so long sprang from Chat’s mouth, the shape of the words brushing against her lips.

“You already love me,” he murmured, eyes hooded as Ladybug, heart pounding in her throat, stood on her toes and pulled him down.

Her kiss had barely landed, chaste and bright and sweet, when a loud crash sounded behind them. They pulled apart, letting go of each other to face—

A wide-eyed Chat Noir on the other side of the empty street, sprawled on the floor of an alley and covered in the trash from the garbage cans he tripped into.

Ladybug took a step back into the park, away from the street, away from the Chat she’d kissed and the Chat she didn’t, eyes darting between them.

“Are you an akuma?” she asked them both, her chest squeezing at the idea that her Chat’s confession (a faint dream she’d never admit to having) was a lie.

The Chat in the alley stood up, paying no mind to the banana peel that fell off his head. He took in a shuddering breath as he flexed his claws.

“He’s not,” said the alley Chat, voice hoarse. Suddenly, he ran forward. “CATACLYSM!!”

The last time Ladybug felt time slow down like this, Ivan and Mylène were both falling off the Eiffel Tower and Stoneheart’s akuma was flying away from her again.

Like then, her brain worked in overdrive as the bubbling darkness of destruction gathered around the alley Chat’s hand. A plan came together in her mind, one that would save her, her Chat, and the kitten hiding behind her legs in the few precious seconds left.

But she forgot to account for Chat Noir’s nature. Just as she scooped up the kitten in her arm and reached out to haul her Chat to safety…he pushed her away.

And the Cataclysm landed on him.

“NO!” Ladybug screamed, horror and fury and grief twisting her voice into something inhuman. The kitten jumped from her slackened grip as she rushed forward, punching the other Chat away and embracing her Chat.

She never witnessed Cataclysm’s effects on a person before. But now she knew in gruesome detail, in the worst possible way.

The spell ate away at her Chat, sucking the life from his body until everything he ever was turned to dust, ashy and black as it—he—Chat—slipped through her fingers.

----

Marinette woke with an earth-shattering scream.

(her chat, her kitty, her world was gone, gone, gone—)

She gasped as someone grabbed her shoulders, trying to steady her as she blinked away tears and…sand?

“Marinette, it’s okay! It was a dream! It was just a dream, please—” Chat pleaded—Chat!

Quick as the buzz of a ladybug’s wings, Marinette latched onto Chat, nearly pulling him into her bed as she hugged him and tried not to sob into his shoulder.

“You’re alive,” she whimpered.

Marinette felt his tense frame relax as he hugged her back, cheek nuzzling her temple.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. He tried not to press too much of his weight on her as he half-crouched over her covers. “Sorry I scared you.”

Chat’s claws caught on her night shirt, lightly scratching her sides, and it shocked Marinette back to reality. She quickly sniffed and pulled away, wiping at her tears as she avoided looking Chat in the eye.

“Wh-what… whatareyoudoinghere?” she asked in a rush, trying to slip into the role of oblivious, unattached citizen. The only time Chat had been in her bedroom was when the Puppeteer stole her dolls, so… “Is there an akuma?”

Chat’s cat ears flattened. Giving her space, he sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. His tail flicked out before curling up in his hand, settling there as he fidgeted with it, ignoring the beep that sounded out from his ring.

“…Yeah,” he finally said. “There’s an akuma named Hypnos that wants to put the whole world to sleep. He used his sand to cast a spell. It traps sleeping people in sweet dreams, so he can gather the energy he needs to make the spell bigger. It’s already covered most of Paris.”

Marinette looked down in thought, before blinking in surprise. Golden sand covered her blanket, glittering in the faint sunlight streaming through her balcony window.

“Everyone who was asleep when the spell hit is stuck that way,” Chat continued, rubbing the back of his neck. Then his lips stretched into a sheepish grin, crooked and honest, and it tangled a knot in Marinette’s stomach. “I, ah… I was awake when it happened, so it won’t work on me as long as I don’t go to sleep. And you too, now that you’re awake.”

“I was sleeping,” she said slowly. Her mouth felt dry and her hands itched to touch Chat, but there was an akuma. She needed to think. “How did you break the spell?”

(Because I feel like I’m still under one, she didn’t say as he turned his bright, mischievous eyes on her.)

“Well, princess,” Chat began with a sly quirk of his lips. “As your knight, I broke it with true—”

He faltered suddenly, words lost as the skin bordering his mask flushed red. He reached jerkily for his chest, tugging off a necklace Marinette hadn’t noticed before.

It was an amulet, with a chain made of bones and a pendent carved from ivory. Etched into the pendent was something that looked like a gate, surrounded by ancient Greek letters.

“I-I mean, I swiped this from Hypnos,” he said quickly. “It lets you walk in someone’s dream. The only way to break the spell without cleansing the akuma is to turn a sweet dream into a…nightmare.”

Turn fighting next to Chat, talking happily with Chat, Chat holding her, Chat finally confessing, her kissing Chat into…Chat destroyed by his own magic spell, dead and dust and gone.

“Oh,” said Marinette.

“Yeah,” said Chat, wincing. “Sorry again.”

She bit her lip, trying not to remember that awful scene (trying not to think about Chat being her sweet dream), when a thought occurred to her.

“W-wait, ‘walking in someone’s’…” Marinette paled before launching herself at Chat, gripping his shoulders with white knuckles. “CHAT, DID YOU SEE MY DREAM?!”

He leaned away, unable to look her in the eye as his blush spread down to his collar. He ignored the second beep from his ring. “Uh, well…”

This was it. This was how Marinette’s life ended.

“Oh my god,” she said, letting go of Chat to pull on her pigtails. “Oh my god!”

“Sorry,” he repeated, unhelpfully.

Marinette dropped her head in her hands and moaned. “The one time I don’t dream about Adrien, this happens.”

“…What?”

Nonononono. “I SAID WOW I GUESS YOU KNOW I’M LADYBUG NOW HAHAHAHA.”

Wait. Shit. Tikki was going to kill her.

“Actually,” Chat began, cutting through Marinette’s panic. He scratched his cheek. “I…already knew you were Ladybug before I came here.”

Marinette stared. Chat squirmed under her gaze, laughing nervously.

“I mean, I’ve known for a couple of days now…I was going to tell you!” he insisted. “I just…hadn’t thought of the best way to break the news.” He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “Surprise?”

Marinette’s fingers grasped at the air as she tried to find the right words through her shock. She finally settled on, “HOW?!”

“I just…put it together,” he said. “Don’t think anyone but I could have, to be honest.” His eyes softened as he looked back at her, the edges of his lips curling up into a smile. “No one knows you the way I do, buginette.”

Marinette stared back, wide-eyed and more flustered than she would have ever allowed herself to be before—

(you already love me)

—she sighed and rubbed at her temple. “You’ve been dying to call me that, haven’t you?”

That impossible, heart-palpitating smile gave way to the biggest shit-eating grin she’d seen out of Chat yet.

“Ladybug, Marinette—I can’t believe I managed to hit on the perfect pun on your name before I even knew it!” he crowed. Chat leaned forward on his hands, getting uncomfortably close to Marinette as he boasted, “We really are meant to—to…”

His breath fanned her face again, intimate and warm. But, unlike in her dream, Marinette saw Chat’s nervous gulp, felt sweat gathering on her palms. Here, in reality, his eyes told her that he was just as afraid as she was.

Still, still, it didn’t stop them from wanting more, from edging closer—

The third beep from Chat’s Miraculous snapped them to attention. Marinette scrambled away, nearly falling off her bed, while Chat straightened up and…finger-gunned her.

“T-to, uh, save your kwami! From the akuma! Is definitely what I meant to say!” Chat squeaked, his blush returning with a vengeance.

Marinette glanced over at Tikki, still sleeping peacefully on the head of her cat pillow. Golden sand floated around Tikki’s head, forming indistinct shapes before settling back into a slow-moving cloud.

A good superhero thought with her head. Shoving down the messy emotions and revelations this morning brought her, Marinette gently picked Tikki up and cradled her kwami in her hands.

“Is she going to be okay?” Marinette asked. She tried not to start when Chat laid a hand on her shoulder.

“She will be, as soon as I can break the spell,” he told her. “Which means I’ll have to go inside her dream.”

Marinette glanced sharply at Chat. “Don’t you mean ‘we’?”

“No, me,” he said, shaking his head. “As long as your kwami is asleep, she can’t hear you. And if she can’t hear you, you can’t transform.”

Squaring her shoulders, Marinette glared. “Even without powers, I can still help.”

“I know, but—”

“Tikki is my kwami, and I’m going to help her whether you like it or not!”

Chat held up his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay. We’ll go together,” he said. His ring beeped for the fourth time. “Rrrright after I feed my kwami.”

Marinette sighed and pointed to the hatch that lead to the rest of the house. “The kitchen is downstairs. I’ll stay up here until you’re ready to go.”

Pausing in the middle of getting up, Chat turned back to look at her with surprise.

“Aren’t you going to come too?” he asked, looking bewildered.

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek and glanced down at his ring. There were no toe beans left on the paw print. They didn’t have time for this.

“No, Chat,” she said.

Falling back to sit on the bed, Chat reached out to take her hand. “But—Marinette, I thought—now that I know, we could…I could—”

She closed her other hand around his, squeezing it between them, intensely aware of how little time he had left, but still reluctant to let go.

“Your safety is more important to me than learning who are behind your mask,” she told him honestly. Then gulped.

Chat seemed…exposed, suddenly. He looked at her like she held his heart instead of his hand.

(But wasn’t it the other way around?)

“No matter how much I want to know,” Marinette finished. She gave his hand one last squeeze before releasing and gently pushing him away. “So, get going already.”

He nodded slowly and stood up, glancing back as he walked down to the hatch, yelping when his ring gave its final beep. He raced ahead with a flash of green light and Marinette lay back on her bed, sighing at the ceiling.

Chat Noir, unmasked, was raiding her kitchen while her kwami, her parents, and probably most of Paris were dead to the world.

And she was in love with him.

Picking up a pillow, Marinette shoved it into her face and screamed long and hard before dramatically throwing it away.

No time to deal with her fickle heart now. She had to use her reliable, not-at-all-traitorous-and-baffling brain. And it told her that, to save Tikki, she needed proper footwear.

Marinette spent an agonizingly long time in front of her dresser, contemplating what to wear. She kept drifting towards the prettier, more flattering pieces before she finally pinched herself and pulled out her normal outfit and shoes.

This wasn’t a date, this was a rescue mission, and she needed to pull herself together.

So intent on repeating this to herself as she pulled off her pyjama shirt, Marinette didn’t notice her hatch door opening until it was too late.

“Buginette~! Thanks for—”

They both froze as Chat’s slit eyes met Marinette’s, her shirt still tangled around her forearms.

Then the hatch slammed shut and Marinette belatedly covered her chest, mortified beyond belief.

“S-SORRY!” Chat’s muffled voice shouted through the hatch. “SORRY, I SHOULD HAVE KNOCKED, SORRY, I’M SO SORRY!!”

Marinette wanted to tell him that it was okay, but the words kept coming out as a strangled moan of horror, so she busied herself with changing as quickly as possible.

She spent another much needed minute to scream into another pillow before marching over to the hatch and opening it.

Chat was sitting on the steps, face in his hands and cat ears drooping. He looked up as the hatch opened, face and neck completely red.

“Um,” he started to say, but Marinette did not want to go into detail about how Chat Noir, her partner and second-but-equal-love-of-her-oh-god-why-was-this-her-life, had definitely, with 100 percent certainty, seen her shirtless. She grabbed onto one of his cat ears and pulled him into her room, ignoring his yelp.

“W-we’ll talk about your bad manners later!” she said, wincing at how shrill she sounded. “Right now, Tikki is more important!”

“Right, of course,” Chat echoed before pulling the amulet out of his pocket. “Can you grab her?”

Marinette raced up the steps to her bed, gingerly picked up Tikki, then raced back down…and tripped over her own feet.

But instead of falling flat on her face and possibly injuring Tikki, Chat caught her by her shoulders. His grip on her was firm, steady. When she slowly looked up, he seemed just as surprised as her. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing.

Hastily standing up, Marinette laughed and tried not to cringe at the embarrassment singularity that was her existence.

She wanted to say ‘Thank you’ and ‘Nice catch’, but the two phrases stumbled over each other, coming out as, “Nice you.”

Chat blinked in confusion and Marinette burned.

“I mean you’re nice!” she blurted out before actually cringing. “No, I mean! I mean—” It’s just Chat, not Adrien, get it together!! “Thanks. For catching me.”

There was an odd little half-smile on Chat’s slightly less red face and a fondness in his eyes that did awful, awful things to her heart.

“No problem, Marinette,” he said, letting her go. He placed the necklace around his neck, the amulet hanging down around his ribs. He tilted his head. “Uh. There’s only one amulet, so I guess we’ll have to…share.”

It made sense. The chain was long enough to loop around both their heads at the same time.

But it wasn’t long enough for them to avoid standing very, very close.

Looking down at Tikki, Marinette gathered her courage and stepped into Chat’s personal space until she was pressed up against him. When he looped the chain over her head, claws brushing against her hair, she realized she forgot to put them in pigtails.

But all that paled to how Chat looked at her, soft and vulnerable in a way that had her squirming.

He took the amulet, pendant clutched firmly in his hand.

“Ready, my lady?” he asked.

Despite the awkwardness and the feelings swirling in her gut, Marinette smiled and nodded.

“Always, kitty,” she said.

Chat smiled back before touching the amulet to Tikki’s forehead.

The world washed out around them, Tikki disappearing from her hands. Marinette steadied herself against Chat just as it snapped back into focus, showing an entirely different picture.

Under an endless blue sky, a golden desert stretched out, the heat from the sun pressing down on them. They were in front of the unmistakeable pyramids of Giza, in better shape than any photo Marinette remembered seeing.

“I don’t think you’re dressed for this,” she said, eyeing Chat’s completely black supersuit. Not that it didn’t look good on him, but—

Marinette shook her head to clear the very unappreciated thought, blinking as her gaze landed on the amulet. It was split in two, one half hanging from a chain around each of their necks.

“It’s not a literal cheese wonderland, so I’m okay with that,” said Chat. Ignoring his own odd comment, he knelt down, offering his back for her to cling to. “Your chariot awaits, mademoiselle.”

…Just how many times would he wrap his kindness in the cheesiest lines imaginable?

Giggling, Marinette clambered onto his back, her heart leaping into her throat as he easily rose up. His hands firmly gripped the undersides of her knees, claws resting gently over her pants, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Chat turned his head slightly, his cheek brushing against hers, and Marinette wondered if she would ever get used to this.

“Hang on!” he shouted, before sprinting for the pyramids. Marinette struggled not to whoop in excitement, opting to rest her chin on Chat’s shoulder and smile.

His pace was strong and steady and fast, like the way her heart beat now when he was with her.

“I’m glad you have my back,” she whispered, warmly. Chat stumbled, slipping on sand before regaining his speed. From her angle, she could see how quickly his ears turned red.

The sky was turning rose gold with the sunset when Paris’ lights went out and the storm blew in.

The akuma rode on a blizzard, walking on snowflakes as the wind howled around her, buffeting the tendrils of her frost-streaked hair and the hem of her diamond dust dress. Her eyes held just as much forgiveness as icicles that hung from power lines, poised to strike the unwary below.

When Ladybug and Chat Noir faced her on the rooftops, they learned her name.

Snow Queen.

The world slowly descended into darkness as the sun sank and the storm’s power grew. Ladybug’s hand gripped Chat’s as the battle raged on, his eyes stepping in for hers when they began to fail in the low light.

The akuma’s eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring with displeasure.

Silently, she raised a hand. Ferocious blasts of snow-laced wind rose up, battering at the duo until it finally tossed them in the air.

“Ladybug!” Chat shouted, his voice almost lost in the roar of the blizzard.

They spun in wild circles as the wind pushed them high, higher, until the city below was shrouded in a haze of white. The only thing that connected them was the death grip they had on each other.

“Hang in there, Chat!” Ladybug yelled back. Even with super strength, she could feel their fingers slipping, the hold they had on each other’s wrists loosening. “Just—hold on—!”

The world slowed when the wind finally wrenched them apart. Ladybug spun away with a wordless cry, the image of Chat disappearing into the storm branding her soul.

Pushed further and further across the city by the force of the akuma’s winter winds, Ladybug reached for her yoyo and threw it out blindly, hoping to slow her uncontrolled flight. It hooked onto a lamppost, the string going taut before snapping back. She barely had time to brace herself before she slammed into a snowdrift. Groaning, she sat up.

In the darkness, Ladybug couldn’t see any light reflecting off the snow or the green glow of Chat Noir’s eyes.

...He'd be fine. Better off than her, if she was being honest. He had his night vision, enhanced hearing, enhanced smell—

Ladybug slid her compact open and thumbed through to find the map app with Chat’s locator. Seeing the distance between them only firmed her resolve.

“I’m on my way, kitty,” she said to herself.

With an akuma as powerful as this, they needed each other to beat it safely.

Ladybug stood up, snow falling off her in clumps as she stepped out of the snowbank, and she tried not to let her anxiety overwhelm her. Chat was fine; he’d taken falls like this before with no lasting effects. They’d be fine, once they met up again. And Paris would be fine, once they defeated the akuma.

Still, time was a factor. Tikki’s magic kept the chill pricking her exposed face from causing harm and the suit protected the rest of her body... but her kwami never did well in the cold.

Trying to follow the blinking cursor on her compact, Ladybug immediately saw the problems with her plan. If she didn’t watch where she stepped, she could slip on an icy patch of ground or get stuck in another snowbank. But she could hardly see anything in the receding light and her compact was blinding her even more with its brightness—

Ladybug gently smacked her head and turned her compact around, shining its light on the snow and watching it reflect back to her.

Even if it wasn’t for the blizzard, using her compact like this meant she couldn’t swing over the roofs to make the journey quicker. Ladybug trudged through the snow and the wind, grateful for the warmth of her suit.

It was hard to navigate at first. She had to keep switching between shining a light on her path and checking the map for directions and distance. Even with her compact, Ladybug could barely see more than a metre in front of her. She was almost tempted to create a Lucky Charm just so she’d have a flashlight.

But five minutes of light wasn’t worth the risk of losing an advantage over the akuma or freezing to death without the protection of her suit.

Luckily, she didn’t run into any buildings as she walked and the pawprint representing Chat was drawing steadily closer. But what helped the most were the little lights above her.

The power outage and the storm meant people had rushed inside even before the akuma revealed herself. They lit candles, stoked fireplaces, cranked electric lanterns, and filled oil lamps, all working to beat back the cold and the darkness. The collective glow filtered out through the windows and, while not every building was lit, there were enough to serve as beacons for Ladybug, lighthouses to guide her through the streets and to Chat Noir.

She was born and bred in Paris, the City of Light, and it only seemed right for it to help her like this.

But even this moment of connection had to end. Chat’s cursor was almost on top of her. Through the storm, she could hear him crying her name and she rushed to meet him.

His eyes were watery and bright when they both skidded to a stop, the tip of his nose red, but he didn’t look any worse for the wear. He sniffed and shuffled closer, as if to shield her from the blizzard.

“You’re alright,” he said. “I mean, I knew you’d be, but... I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Ladybug smiled, feeling her heart soften with his concern and her relief. She put away her compact and took his hand, squeezing it in hers.

She couldn’t feel his warmth through their suits. But he was still solid, a ray of light condensed into her gangly, reliable cat boy who told too many puns.

“Lead the way,” she said, before affection could distract her. Chat hesitated, searching her face.

“You have a plan?” he asked, lacing their fingers together. For a tighter grip, Ladybug reasoned to herself, and tried not to let his grin affect her.

“Not yet,” she admitted and tugged him along as she began to run. He quickly drew ahead, guiding them both through the dark. “But we’ll take her down. Just trust me, kitty.”

first | previous | next | last

ao3 link

---

A universe is governed by its laws. For this particular universe, two are relevant for the following events.

One:

Time cannot be accurately described as a material substance. It is not water flowing in a river, swift and sure in one direction. It is not the flap of a butterfly’s wings, cascading into a tornado of change.

Simply put, time is math. Something exists, then something happens. All the elements of the past make up all the elements of the present.

(1 + 1 = 2)

Travelling forward is as easy as existing one second after the other.

Travelling backward is easy too, once enough energy and the right equipment are acquired. You shuffle yourself to the other side of the equation, make yourself part of the past instead of the present. You change the terms of the equation, transforming your past into the present and your present into the future.

(1 + 1 + 1 ≠ 2)

The future is nothing but possibility. With a new variable in the present, the future you travelled from is now an impossibility.

(1 + 1 + 1 = 3)

The old equation, your past, no longer exists. The old solution, your present, no longer exists.

But you do.

Two:

The Kwami of Creation shall only utilize powers within her domain. She may create. She may restore.

She shall not destroy.

---

When Ladybug tossed up her Lucky Charm, scooped up Alix’s watch, and fist bumped her past self for a job well done, she hadn’t given any thought to what would happen when Tikki’s magic ladybugs swarmed over them both.

She was surprised to learn the answer was ‘nothing at all’.

Ladybug blinked and dropped her hand, staring with her past self as the ladybugs swarmed around the two Timebreakers and left…two Alixes.

Um.

“Is this—?” the other Ladybug began to say, only to be interrupted by the Alixes’ surprised yelps.

“What the heck?!” they yelled before freezing at their echoing words. “Stop that! No, you! Arrrrghhh!”

“Ok, let’s calm down,” said Ladybug, holding her hands out to placate the Alixes. She glanced back to see her past self picking up Alix’s (Alixes’) pocket watch. Ladybug’s head was spinning—her powers had never failed before. Was something wrong with her Miraculous? Or Tikki? Did travelling through time mess with something? “We’ll…we’ll figure this out…uh.”

The other Ladybug held out the watch to one Alix, then the other, then glanced back at Ladybug, unsure which one the watch belonged to.

It was a relief when Chat Noir leaped over, devil-may-care grin on his face.

It was relief to see him still leaping at all, she thought before dismissing it. Even with this hiccup, things were fine now. They had to be.

“Got some double trouble, my ladies?” asked Chat.

Despite his light tone, his body was tense and his eyes watchful. He knew just as well as she did how unprecedented this situation was.

It didn’t help that both her and her past self’s earrings beeped at the same time.

“Unfortunately. Looks like we’ll have to put this on pause for now,” said Ladybug.

Chat’s ring started beeping too. Just what they needed.

“But we’ll be back soon,” the other Ladybug continued, passing the pocket watch to the closest Alix.

“Hey! Why are you giving it to her?” the other Alix demanded.

“We don’t have time to get into it right now, but the akuma you turned into had time travelling powers,” explained the other Ladybug. “You’re both Alix, so it doesn’t matter which of you we give it to, since it’s both your responsibility. Right?”

The other Alix frowned, but backed down with a sigh. The Alix with the watch held it tight to her chest.

“Of course,” said the Alixes.

Smiling with relief, Ladybug turned back to Chat Noir. “Meet you back here, kitty?”

“It’s a date,” he said with a wink.

The three of them shot off, Chat running in one direction while Ladybug and her past self headed home.

---

They didn’t make it in time, forcing Ladybug to drop down and hide in a quiet alley. The other Ladybug quickly followed, and they both closed their eyes as their transformations fell away.

It was still strange to see her mirror image standing in front of her. But it was even stranger to see two Tikkis fly out of their Miraculous and then melt into each other, leaving just one Tikki lying on the ground.

“Tikki!?”

Marinette and her past self both reached for their kwami at the same time, bumping their heads in the process. They settled on huddling together in a recess, Tikki resting on the other Marinette’s lap while Marinette gently fed their kwami a cookie from her bag.

“Sorry,” Tikki said quietly. “Getting that much power at once…I hope I didn’t scare you.”

“A little,” Marinette admitted, sharing a worried look with her past self.

“Are you feeling better?” the other Marinette asked.

Tikki gingerly sat up and then floated to their eye level, stretching with her tiny, nubby limbs. She finished with a twirl in the air.

“Much!” she said with a grin.

Marinette let out a relieved sigh and tried not to start when her past self did the same.

“Thank goodness. But…Tikki, did Miraculous Ladybug not work because you were sick?” Marinette asked.

Tikki stilled, her silent gaze shifting to the other Marinette, then landing heavily on Marinette herself.

Her kwami was sad, Marinette realized with a twist in her gut. But her eyes were still so kind.

“There’s nothing wrong with Miraculous Ladybug,” said Tikki.

“What do you mean? There’s still two of us! And two of Alix! Of course there’s something wrong,” the other Marinette said, unintentionally voicing Marinette’s thoughts.

None of this made any sense at all.

“Marinette, I need you to listen to what I’m saying right now,” Tikki said calmly. “Both of you. This is important for you two to know, for now and in case it ever happens again. Miraculous Ladybug worked exactly as it was supposed to.”

“You can’t be serious,” Marinette said.

Tikki floated closer, her voice soft as she continued.

“Humans can use my Miraculous to create and restore as needed. But my power can’t restore something if it means completely destroying something else.” She finally lowered her eyes. “Only one timeline can exist in this universe. I can’t restore the old one because I would be destroying this one. There’s nowhere for the two of you except here.”

The two of you…meaning Marinette and one of the Alixes.

“We only went back a few minutes,” Marinette murmured, shock sending a chill through her body.

“Time travel, no matter how far you go back, is impossible without destroying the original timeline,” was Tikki’s reply.

“So…wait, there’s going to be two of us? Forever? And two of Alix?” the other Marinette asked, confused. “Can’t you just…smash us together like you did with, well, you?”

“Kwamis are different from humans. Doing that with two humans means one of them will be destroyed, and you both exist separately now. It’s outside my power.”

“Oh,” said Marinette.

They really were stuck like this. And so were the Alixes.

“Wow,” said the other Marinette—and if this really was permanent, they were going to have to figure out names. “Uh, there’s enough space for two people in my—our room. Mama and Papa will be surprised that there’s two of us now, but I’m sure they’ll be happy.”

Tikki still looked sad and worried, antenna drooping, and the realization hit Marinette like a cold front.

“No,” said Marinette numbly. “There are two Ladybugs.”

“Le Papillon knows there are two of you now,” Tikki explained, not quite looking either of them in the eye. “The Alixes should be relatively safe with their family. But if anyone found out there are two Marinettes…”

“They’d realize I’m—we’re Ladybug!” gasped the other Marinette.

Marinette (the first, the worst) fisted her hands at her side, staring at the ground.

She’d almost lost Chat, and now, instead, she was going to lose—

“Until Hawk Moth is gone, to keep our identity secret…I can’t go home,” Marinette concluded, looking up. “Can I?”

Tikki hesitated before nodding, and Marinette felt tears well up in her eyes.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.

An arm looped around her shoulders, pulling her close, and Marinette looked up at her past self, startled.

“That’s not fair!” said the other Marinette, frowning at Tikki. “Why can’t it be me? Why does it have to be her?”

Marinette had the sudden, wild thought that this may be what her friends felt like whenever she stuck up for them.

“We can’t give Le Papillon any clues, so there can’t be any mismatch in your memories of today,” Tikki explained. She pointed at the other Marinette. “You’re the Marinette of this timeline.” She pointed at Marinette. “And you’re the Marinette of the previous timeline. We can’t risk it.” She put down her arm. “And I can’t apologize enough for this.”

Tikki really did seem sorry. Marinette swallowed down the lump in her throat and croaked, “Where…where can I stay? If I can’t go home…”

Her past self squeezed Marinette’s shoulder in wordless support.

“There’s a safe place I can take you, but only you,” said Tikki. “It’s a secret that’s as important as your identities.”

Marinette and her past self shared the same anxious look, and it was…reassuring that someone else understood the way she was feeling. Even if that someone else was her.

Sniffing, Marinette wiped her eyes and stood up, her past self a breath behind.

“Okay, Tikki,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “Let’s go.”

“We still need to explain things to Alix. Alixes.” The other Marinette groaned. “This is going to be tricky if only one of us can be Ladybug…”

“Oh, that’s not a problem!” said Tikki.

Her—Their kwami closed her eyes and glowed pink before budding another Tikki out of her body.

“Now that I have two bodies and two Miraculous…” began the first Tikki.

“You can both be Ladybug at the same time,” finished the second Tikki.

Right. Kwami. Not human.

“I’ll go talk to the Alixes and Chat Noir, then,” said the other Marinette. “Tikki, transform me!”

Just like Tikki said, only one of her bodies flew into the other Marinette’s Miraculous, and it was really weird to see the transformation process from outside. Pretty, but very weird.

“Tikki needs to tell me where to go, so…I guess we’ll head there by foot,” said Marinette. She tried to smile, but it felt…impossible. “See you later?”

Ladybug looked back, lips drawn thin, before she reached forward and pulled Marinette into a hug.

“See you soon,” she said, patting her back. Then Ladybug pulled back to throw her yoyo and swing away, quickly disappearing into the skyline.

Marinette watched her go and hugged herself, trying to keep that warmth for a little longer.

It might be the last hug she’d get for a long, long time.

---

With Tikki hiding in her hair and whispering directions into her ear, Marinette found herself only a few districts from her home (her school, her friends, her family, her life—)

“The third building on the left,” said Tikki.

Her soft voice broke Marinette out of another cycle of panic and anxiety. Chewing on her lip, Marinette turned in the direction of an unassuming brick building, retrofitted with a grocery store on the ground floor. There was a private wellness studio on the second floor, with residential apartments on the third and fourth floors.

It looked like nothing she would imagine a safe house for a superhero to be. And maybe that was the point.

Doing a quick scan of the crowd, Marinette headed towards the grocery store until Tikki hissed, “Second floor!”

Right. She lurched towards the stairwell instead, climbing them two at a time in order to escape the stares aimed her way.

When she reached the door to the studio, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

‘Sifu Wellness Studio’ had to be a pun. Somehow.

“Just knock on the door, Marinette,” whispered Tikki.

Aaaaand she was focusing on the sign because she definitely wasn’t scared (and upset and terrified—)

Marinette slapped her cheeks, squared her shoulders, and knocked on the door.

There was a slow shuffle of footsteps before the door swung open, revealing an old man with a bright Hawaiian shirt, a cane, and a rueful smile.

Adrien doesn't see Hawk Moth's defeat. Not personally. He only witnesses the aftermath, when Tikki's magic brings Chat Noir back to life.

He sees Ladybug hovering over him, his head cradled in her lap. He sees his lady, his amazing, incredible lady, holding Hawk Moth's Miraculous in her hand. He sees her look down at him with desperate worry, even though they've won.

Then Chat Noir turns his head. He sees Sabrina's father guide his into the back of a police car.

"I'm sorry, Chat," Ladybug says.

Victory always has a cost.

----

Resurrection comes with consequences as well. Mainly, Chat Noir can't stand by himself, legs feeling weak and shaky as a newborn kitten's.

He'd make a joke about losing one of his nine lives, but... there's still a phantom ache, radiating from his torso. Right in the place where Hawk Moth's sword cane slipped between his ribs.

Ladybug takes him back to his room.

"Adrien..." she says as she lays him out on his bed. Her transformation releases in a shower of pink sparkles. Marinette looks at him, sad and serious and worried and Chat hates it. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, this is..." She bites her lip as Tikki flies over to sit on her shoulder.

Damn it, even Tikki is looking at him with concern.

Chat's first instinct is to reassure them, say that he’s fine, he'd be alright. But the ache is still there, throbbing viciously under his skin.

(Did he ever love you?)

"Claws in," he says instead, closes his eyes as Plagg's magic rushes back into the ring, reforming into his kwami. Plagg immediately plasters himself to Adrien's face.

"YOU DUMB KID DON'T YOU EVER PULL A STUPID STUNT LIKE THAT AGAIN," Plagg howls. Exhausted in every way possible, Adrien doesn't have the energy to do more than blink in surprise.

"Won't have to," he says dully.

----

Ladybug is about to leave, halfway through launching her yoyo, when she turns around. "You can stay with me! Un... until things get... um. Sorted out."

Adrien thinks about it. Thinks about her warm home and her cozy room and her loving parents.

Thinks about her father, friendly and affectionate and there for his daughter.

Pressing a hand to his middle, Adrien shakes his head.

----

Nathalie arrives half an hour later, lawyer in tow.

"M. Agreste has been arrested," she says promptly. "We are to begin the process for your emancipation immediately."

"What?!"

Nathalie tactfully ignores Adrien's outburst. "You're old enough and these types of allegations can be dragged out in court for years. It would be best if you gained control of your trust fund and focus instead on completing your education."

The lawyer steps forward, already brandishing a pile of paperwork, but Adrien stops them with a raised hand.

"Did..." Adrien swallows. His throat feels tight as he remembers the look on Hawk Moth's face, as Chat Noir flung himself between Ladybug and the blade that threatened her. "Did my father tell you to do this?"

"He made his wishes very clear," Nathalie says.

The ghost of the sword slowly twists into him as he signs page after page after page.

----

Adrien doesn't go to school the next day, knowing what the news all over France will be. He doesn't visit the Ladyblog, knowing what the latest posts will be about. He doesn't leave the house, knowing half of Paris is outside his gates. He doesn't answer his friends' texts, knowing their unconditional concern would be too... too much.

He climbs the walls. He grunts at Plagg. He looks through photos of his mother. When the pain in his chest scrapes away something important, something he probably needs, Adrien goes down to his father's office and gets Plagg to break into the hidden safe.

There's another Miraculous in it.

Of course there is.

----

The next day, Nino fights through the crowds of reporters and picketers to get to his front door, Marinette and Alya not far behind him.

"We have your notes for class," Nino says, when they're all inside. His words echo in the quiet of the mansion.

Adrien remembers standing here in the lobby with Nino, as his father rejected the first friend he made by himself. His father ridiculed Nino, kicked him out, and Adrien felt so embarrassed.

No. Ashamed. Because Nino deserves better than to be treated like... like...

When his phantom wound gapes, bitterness bleeds out.

"My father akumatized you," Adrien says and Nino stills. "He hurt you."

Adrien's eyes skip to Alya and the death grip she has on her phone. They settle on Marinette—his princess, his lady, his life—and he remembers how pale she went, when Hawk Moth caught her off guard that last, crucial moment.

"He hurt all of you," he finishes in a whisper. The silence, familiar and empty, is broken by Alya.

"He hurt you too," she says.

Adrien laughs, watery and hitched and just on the edge of hysterical.

Trust Alya to speak the truth.

----

Chloé comes by with Sabrina later, furious that Adrien blew off their shopping date. Annoyed, too, that he wasn't coming to school after all the trouble she went through to convince him to make a break for it, honestly Adrikins.

The day after that, Adrien sneaks past the crowd outside his house and drags himself to school, Plagg tucked into his shirt. For some reason, his kwami seems to draw off the worst of the leftover pain.

Class is tense, but not as bad as he thought it would be.

Max makes an off-hand remark about how this explained why Adrien was a statistical anomaly and never got akumatized. Alix elbows him. Ivan gives him a fist bump of solidarity.

Marinette holds his hand during lunch.

----

A week later, Adrien lifts the receiver off the hook. He faces his father through the bulletproof glass of the prison's visiting booth.

"Why did you do it?" Adrien asks. His voice is as flat and numb as he feels. Only Plagg huddling against his chest helps him remember that he's alive, that he's here.

"I did it for you. For our family," his father tells him.

Adrien aches. The lingering pain of Hawk Moth's misaimed attack, the grief of Gabriel Agreste's betrayal—they both claw through him. With every jagged cut, he's reminded that, yes, he's alive now.

But, for a while, he wasn't.

Resolve shattered, Adrien puts the receiver back. He doesn't look back (can't look back can't can't can't) as he leaves.

----

Sitting at Marinette's desk, Adrien brushes another layer of papier-mâché on her latest project while he waits for her. He ignores the newspaper headlines speculating about him. About his father.

Tikki and Plagg hover over him, watching as he rubs the spot between his ribs.

"There's no scar," Adrien says, carefully covering 'GABRIEL STOCK PLUMMETS' with an editorial cartoon mocking Mayor Bourgeois' latest scandal.

"There wouldn't be," Tikki says, with all the certainty of a millennia old being.

Adrien puts down his brush. The black-and-white image of his father stares out at him. It's not his mug shot this time, but the photo from the company's website.

"Is it ever going to stop hurting?" Adrien asks. Plagg and Tikki exchange a look.

"Probably not," Plagg answers bluntly. "You just gotta accept it. Learn to be happy anyway."

----

Adrien signs his name and the officer at the desk buzzes him through.

His father sits at the visiting booth. His hair is limp and bags stretch deep under his eyes.

He's old, older than Adrien has ever seen him, and maybe there's a hint of pity growing beneath the pain.

(Did he ever love you?)

Adrien doesn't know. He's never known what his father is thinking.

But... he's never let that stop him from trying. Not before.