#mlbsecretsanta

Adrien remembered the magic of his earliest Christmases.

Gingerbread cookies, snow forts in the backyard, candles on the tree, a large turkey dinner with his Maman and Papa. His memories were a whirlwind of Christmas mornings jumping on his parents' bed- first Maman would wake up, then the two of them would gang up on Papa- of an endless parade of presents, then watching It's A Wonderful Life with hot chocolate and popcorn.

His Maman loved her Christmas rituals. The tree in the foyer had to be the largest they could find that spared the paint on the ceiling, fresh and with a grandness that matched the manor and its family living within. Decorations were bought yearly for a new theme, White & Gold Winter Wonderland or the Nutcracker Ballet, and Adrien would watch with wide eyes between the balustrades of the upper landing as Emilie directed her army of employees in transforming their home into something even more magical.

"Adrien darling, you're going to get caught underfoot." Maman said when she caught him hanging around, sweeping Adrien into her arms and kissing him on the nose. She took him on a tour about the house, explaining the intricacies and particularities of her vision. At three years old, Adrien didn't exactly know what potpourri was, but he enjoyed the shiny baubles and the way his Maman held him close to share her world with him.

"Christmas is my favourite holiday." She told him with a sigh once they had made their rounds. Emilie Agreste looked down into her son's green eyes, identical to her own, and leaned in with a playful, secretive smile and a whisper. 

"It is yours too."

Adrien couldn't help but believe in her conviction, setting new eyes of wonder on what he now knew was his favourite day of the year.

"Emilie where is-" A crash sounded, followed by a muffled curse, as Adrien's Papa stumbled away from an upended vase in the middle of the foyer. An employee shrunk away from his vitriolic scowl, but Gabriel saw the mass of shiny blonde hair in from of him and continued on.

"Something the matter, Gaby?" Maman gently took Adrien's wrist and moved it back and forth as if he was waving hello to his father, but Adrien thought he was much too old for such things- he knew how to wave all by himself, should he want to- so he started to squirm in her arms, asking to be put down. Maman frowned at him.

"Be a good boy Adrien, stay still. Don't be hard on your poor mother."

Adrien stilled. He hadn't meant to be hard on her- he loved his mother more than anything else in the world. Maybe even more than Christmas. So he clung to her more tightly. He liked being in her arms anyway.

His Papa watched them in that distant way he sometimes did, like Adrien was some sort of specimen under his observation. But after a moment, the furrow reappeared between his eyebrows and his grievances continued.

"It's the hosting Emilie, you know I can't stand most of those people in my house when I have the new years show I have to prepare for-"

"Darling."

Maman raised a hand to Papa's cheek, the beauty of her smile enough to stun any man into silence, especially if that man was Gabriel Agreste. Her thumb brushed under his eye.

"You have your show this time of year, and I have mine. Take a deep breath. Let me handle it all."

Adrien reached out a hand too, landing on his Papa's other cheek, but Gabriel's gaze didn't waver from his wife's radiant face. He sighed.

"Of course, my love. What would I do without you."

___

Adrien remembered the first time he was allowed to bring a friend to his Maman's Christmas ball. 

"This is so boring. All these adults want to do is ask me how old I am."

Chloe huffed in her red Christmas dress, its poofy skirt and puffed sleeves making her strain to cross her arms.

"C'mon Chlo, its not that bad." Adrien tried to argue, pretending that he hadn't begged his parents to let him invite someone else his age to attend for a very similar reason.

"My cousin will be here soon, you'll get to meet him. Plus, it's Christmas!"

"So what? I seriously don't get your obsession. I can get whatever I want on any other day of the year, today isn't special."

"That's not what Christmas is about."

"What else could it possibly be about?"

Adrien turned, taking in the grandeur of the gala around them. This year's theme was Nordic Frost, brought to life with traditional wooden carvings crawling up the walls and suspended twinkling glass snowflakes above them, each as delicate as the real thing. At nine years old, he didn't quite know how to articulate what it was about the atmosphere that made it unmistakably 'Christmas', why the magic in it laid in his mother's way of decorating his house into something more, but he thought Chloe must only take a closer look to understand what he meant.

"It's about that." He said, pointing to the potpourri. Chloe looked at him. Looked at the elegantly arranged potpourri. 

"You are so weird."

He made sure his parents weren't looking when he stuck his tongue out at her.

"Says the talking Christmas ornament." A deadpan voice spoke behind them.

Adrien turned to see his cousin, dressed in none of the frills and collars that he and Chloe had been forced (or in Chloe's case, chosen) to wear, but an elegant mini suit that just made him look like a small adult, complete with his casual hold on a wine glass. Was that actually wine in there? It was probably just grape juice for affect.

"Felix!" Regardless of his antics, Adrien gave him a big hug, almost spilling juice on them both, and Felix awkwardly gave him a few pats on the back in kind. England was so far away, and any occasion that his cousin was able to visit was a special one. And now, two of his favourite people could finally meet.

"Chlo, this is-"

"He called me a Christmas ornament." Chloe's face was thunderous. She never took well to insults, but especially those that targeted her fashion sense.

"A very pretty Christmas ornament!" Adrien tried. "That's probably what he meant to say. Felix is still learning French."

"I was still learning French last month," Felix corrected, offended. "I'm fluent now."

Watching as Chloe's face turned a deeper shade of red, Adrien thought to himself that it would be much better in this moment if his cousin was more fluent in manners.

"Well you look like a knock-off Adrien," Chloe fumed, "Especially with that stupid slicked back hair."

"Chloe!"

"That would have really hurt my feelings if it wasn't said by a Powerpuff girl."

"Felix!"

Adrien gave up trying to make them friends with each other two hours later, after a dinner spent between them as they sniped back and forth with first words, then food, followed by a gift exchange where Felix gave him two presents, one of which was an American Girl doll he didn't quite think was originally meant for him. But even still, it was his first Christmas spent with friends, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Felix, Adrien! It's time for the family photo." His aunt Amelie called them over to where she waited with his Maman and Papa in front of the tree in the foyer, decorated this year by a dusting of silver tinsel and red candles. Their 'family photo' always ended up on a tabloid or newspaper, the picture accompanying the annual story of the Agreste's Christmas charity gala. They headed over, leaving Chloe to stand alone in the crowd of grownup guests as the only child left without a parent.

Maman smiled at Chloe, the one adult who's eyes his friend never seemed able to meet. "Why don't you join us, darling?"

"What?!" His father and cousin spoke at once, the two of them giving each other a disgruntled look before Felix turned away and crossed his arms. "This is a family photo, dear." Gabriel tried, putting all the tact he possessed in trying to prevent making a little girl cry in front of dozens of socialites.

"From the way she looks after our darling Adrien, Chloe Bourgeois practically is family." Adrien had never seen such delicate, disbelieving hope in Chloe's eyes before. She tentatively walked over, standing awkwardly a few paces away and turning to face the camera. She was usually a natural with them, always telling Adrien he should preen in the attention of his adoring fans and paparazzi, but now she looked unsure with what to do with her hands.

So Adrien took them, pulling her closer and into frame. "Don't start being shy now, Chlo."

"I'm not shy!" Chloe screwed up her nose at the insinuation, holding her head high and linking her elbow with Adrien before turning to stare down the barrel of the camera.

Adrien linked his other elbow with Felix, who looked disgusted at the prospect before Adrien lamented on how lucky he was that all of his favourite people would finally be in one photo together, and a cooing Amelie nudged him into begrudgingly staying linked. They were all perfectly coiffed blonde hair and blinding white teeth, making a pretty magazine cover as the camera flashed.

"Did you have fun, Chlo?" Adrien asked at the end of the night, fiddling with his collar as he waited with her for her driver at the manor's gates.

"It was fine, I guess. Even with your horrid little cousin." Adrien grinned, relieved. After a moment of silence, fussing with the American Girl doll Adrien snuck her, she continued in a smaller voice.

"I've never taken a family photo before. That was nice too, I guess."

Adrien was quiet. He knew Chloe didn't see much of her mom anymore, and he knew she barely talked about it. He didn't really know what to say, having no idea what it felt like to come from a broken family. At least, not yet.

"You can be in my family photo every year from now on. We look enough alike anyway, no one my parents send their Christmas cards to will think an extra blonde kid is strange." Chloe snorted, her puffed sleeves fighting against her as she crossed her arms again.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

Adrien put a hand on her shoulder.

"I won't ever leave you alone, Chlo. I don't break my promises." She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to decide whether to trust it. But this was Adrien- the sweet, forgiving, perfect golden boy who would never say something he didn't mean. So Chloe smiled.

"You better not Adrikins! You better invite me to all of your lame Christmas parties. I'll only come if you ask."

---

Adrien's thirteenth Christmas he spent by his mother's bedside. The house had been decorated as brightly as every year, but there was something in the methodically symmetrical garlands and evenly spaced baubles that was unmistakably Nathalie, reused decorations from different years that didn't quite sing with the harmony of style. He appreciated her efforts, but it was almost more unnerving to see everything pretending to be the same, like a secret that was difficult to pinpoint. Walking into the foyer the first time after the decorations had been put up was the first time he noticed just how empty the house could feel without his mother's touch.

"What's this?" Maman picked his present first from the pile, as she did every year. Adrien had taken special care to wrap it with perfect corners in a paper that featured her favourite flowers, pink camellias, and topped with a beautiful pink bow. This year, he also used less tape.

"'To Maman, love Adrien.'" She read from the tag as though surprised, a game that still made Adrien smile. Her fingers shook slightly at the exertion of trying to tear it open, but she brushed off his father's suggestions that she let him open it with a beatific smile. After a few minutes of struggle, she pulled out Adrien's gift.

"Oh, it's beautiful darling." Emilie pulled out the delicate silver necklace, glittering in her bedroom's low light. It had two small snowflakes on either side of a larger one, connected at their points as though holding hands. Adrien had never gotten his Maman jewelry since the days of his macaroni necklaces, since he knew how particular and intentional she was with what she liked to wear and he wouldn't exactly consider himself an expert on women's fashion. But he saw it when he went shopping with Nathalie, and it reminded him so much of his Maman  and her favourite season that he had to get it for her.

"Do you like it?" He moved closer, smiling as she went to put it on. After a moment of fumbling, Papa moved the hair from her neck and fastened the clamp for her. Nathalie, always prepared, held up a hand mirror so Emilie could make her final verdict.

"I love it, Adrien. Almost as much as I love you." Maman reached for him and Adrien hugged her tighter than he should have, needing to feel the strength of her beating heart to silence the fear that was now an ever present whisper in the back of his mind.

"It's the same silver as that brooch you always wear, so they'll match!"

Emilie stilled under him. Adrien looked up to see her somehow even paler than before, exchanging a tense glance with Gabriel before her eyes flickered over to Nathalie.

"That's very thoughtful, dear." She finally managed, the sweet smile back on her face. 

"You rushed right in here this morning, didn't you? Did you even have a chance to eat?" She looked to Nathalie, who shook her head.

"That won't do. The rest of the presents will have to wait until after you've eaten."

"But-"

"We can continue presents after you eat. Make him some pancakes, my love." She said to Gabriel, nodding towards the door. Maybe his Maman had suddenly gotten tired and she didn't want him or Gabriel to see. That must be why she was kicking them out. "Give him all the whipped cream and chocolate sauce he wants." Adrien had always preferred his pancakes plain, but gave his Maman a small smile, appreciating the thought.

"You don't have to make the pancakes, Papa. I can ask Phillipe." Adrien said once they were outside his Maman's room, referring to their personal chef. Their steps echoed loudly on the foyer's marble floor, eerily empty of the gala crowds from a typical year.

"Adrien." His father had become more haggard since Maman's sickness, undone in a way he'd never seen before, bruises under eyes above a five o'clock shadow. Adrien straightened.

"I will make you some hot chocolate."

Next to his whirlwind of a wife, any holiday spirit Gabriel Agreste might have had was largely eclipsed. But he had one tradition too- peppermint hot chocolate that he prepared himself, claiming it was a family recipe passed down from generation to generation, much better than anything in the store and an Agreste secret he would one day teach Adrien. They went to the kitchen together, as empty and desolate of partygoers as the rest of the manor, and drank their hot chocolate in silence. 

There didn't seem to be much hope between them- that had always been Emilie's specialty. But what hope there was, Adrien could see in his peppermint hot chocolate. Whatever happened, at least he and his father were together.

---

"Adrien?"

Marinette's voice pulled him from his memories, her hand reaching out to tug on his sleeve. Adrien drew his gaze from the store window where a silver necklace sat on a satin bed, its three snowflakes twinkling brightly. He didn't know where his Maman's had gone after she'd disappeared. Maybe she was buried in it.

"Are you okay?"

Marinette looked concerned- it was a look she was having more and more difficulty with hiding behind her big smiles and excited chatter as the 25th grew closer and closer. Sometimes it was difficult to see the reality of this Christmas reflected back in the worry in her eyes.

After all, it was his first one as an orphan.

But his amazing girlfriend was doing everything in her power to make sure he didn't go through it alone. She showered him in gifts and love and baked goods, made sure he was surrounded constantly by friends and her family, if not his own. She looked up at him now, bluebell eyes over a nose red from cold, tucked into a puffy pink jacket with a matching set of white gloves and a hat that she had knitted herself. The latter of which was beginning to slowly slide back to leave her red ears exposed.

Adrien stepped forward, gently tugging the edges of her hat back down over her ears. Stooping down to give her a warm kiss on her cold nose.

"I'm better than okay." He said honestly. "I'm with you."

Because he understood now what he hadn't known when he was younger. That Christmas, for him, had always been about the people. That was the very problem now, the memories of them shattered into tiny fractured pieces of loss and bitterness and guilt so heavy Adrien felt like he was suffocating on it.

Sometimes, Adrien thinks it would've been better if he never got to experience the Christmases of his childhood. They were far too bright and magical for him to contend with the holiday he was now left alone to face, bereft of the ghosts who had orchestrated the perfection of his youth.

His Maman was gone. She had been his spirit and love of the holiday, kicking up a whirlwind of excitement and infectious joy a month before everyone else had a chance to catch up. When she disappeared, the spark that had made the day so magical, that maybe only children felt, left with her. Then he broke his promise to Chloe- he never saw her anymore. She had changed in ways he couldn't ignore, but he couldn't help remembering the fun she'd brought to the Agreste Christmases, obstinate and loud and loyal, someone who would play in the snow with him and always made the gala more fun than it was meant to be. The innocence of their childhood friendship was gone now, tarnished by the weight that came with growing up different. And his father... 

He'd never had a chance to teach him that family recipe.

This Christmas would not be like any of his others. They never would be again. Adrien felt bitter about that, then ungrateful for his bitterness, then frustrated at the whole situation. Nothing was simple since his father died.

Teenagers were often fluid in their likes and dislikes, preferences changing from year to year as they dug deeper into the self-discovery of who they were. But Marinette had only ever had one favourite song.  

It was a classic, and Marinette was sure that many other Parisians, and Francophones, shared her love for it. Although, perhaps unlike other Francophones, she didn’t decide on it to be her favourite song simply because of the singers range (even though it is very impressive), or through its upbeat and conquering rhythm (while that did energize and inspire her). No, it was the memories she’d collected between each crescendo, the nostalgia crammed between beats, which had transformed it from a simple song into a timeless tune that she could play one thousand times without ever tiring of it.

She couldn’t recall the first time she’d heard it, or even the second or third. However, Marinette did remember dancing around her kitchen with her Maman and Papa, belting the words (only half actually right) at the top of her lungs. She  remembered it playing in the background when stitching her first skirt, humming it just before meeting Alya, and blasting it at her surprise birthday party where all of her friends (including Adrien) told her (and showed her when it came to Befana) just how much she meant to them. 

Today was the first day she’d ever scrambled to turn the radio off when it came on. The first day that one bad memory had the power to overwhelm all the good ones. The first day the chorus made her heart hurt, squeezed tears from her eyes. After last week, she didn’t think she could ever listen to it again.

“Um, Marinette...?” Dread stiffened her bones, sunk down deep and mixed with her shame and mortification. That tentative voice was a shot through her nerves, its concern a blaring alarm. Her hurried movements were committed to wiping the snot and tears from her face and taking a deep breath before slowly peering over her shoulder.

Sweet, amazing Adrien peered back, a worried frown pulling at his peach pink lips. Embarrassment rippled from her when his eyes flickered to the red-rims around her eyes that were not nearly as covered as they should have been. Marinette quickly looked back to the ground as heat rose to her cheeks. He moved closer, and she couldn’t decide whether she wanted him to get away from her, or to keep moving even closer.

“Are you alright? Is there something wrong?” He sat beside her, looking up at the jukebox in front of her. Slow jazz permeated the air around them, the first button Marinette found purchase on after sliding her quarter into the machine through a panic driven haze. Her eyes were on her hands, which still shook a little in her lap.

What could she tell him? The story was long, and dangerous to tell. She’d have to look into his soft green eyes and surrender to them fully, as she’s always wanted to. All of her secrets would come pouring out, beginning with her biggest- she was Ladybug, one half of the superhero duo who was responsible for the safety of all of Paris. Once it was out, she wouldn’t be able to stop- she’d have to tell him how she’d failed in this- at least, she had in an alternate timeline, one where Paris flooded, the moon had broken, and Hawkmoth had won but also paid the ultimate price. The story would come out of how she had to fight her akumatized best friend, Chat Noir, whose insanity had scared her. Whose loneliness had hurt her more than the bruises and scrapes his claws had given her.

And how to tell him the whole situation had begun because he found out her identity? How to ask who he felt compelled to tell? Marinette supposed she couldn’t blame him for something that didn’t even happen in this timeline, but try as she might, she couldn’t forget. That was why she smiled back at him.

“I’m fine, Adrien, thanks.” No excuse ever came to Marinette quick, and she was soon flailing for one. “This song just reminds me of, uh, a commercial I saw. A heartwarming story of this kitten who was lost and... and a little girl found him and took him home!” She avoided his steady and understanding gaze, feeling as though she betrayed it with her lies. “The song just reminds me of it, that’s all.”

The excuse was flimsy, and she could tell Adrien thought so too. He didn’t push it, though. But he didn’t leave her alone, either. He his eyes to the jukebox.

“Makes sense. Every song I hear has a memory attached. The one that plays during my perfume commercial? I can’t listen to it without wanting to bang my head against the wall.” Adrien pulled a face and Marinette giggled, heart warming at his efforts to cheer her up.

The rest of their friends seemed to finally notice their absence, and Nino, Rose, and Alix joined them a moment later. It seemed they missed Alya’s frantic hand signals for them to leave them alone.

“A jukebox? Sweet! Good eye, Marinette!” Nino leaned in to get a better look, practically drooling over the old sound system.

“Well duh. A fifties diner is just a brightly coloured restaurant that specializes in shakes without one.” Alix blew up her bubblegum, leaning onto the dinosaur of a stereo. Nino glared at the arm pushing on it, muttering something under his breath about disrespecting a great art form. She met his gaze and popped her bubble in reply.

“Ooh, I’ve never seen a real working one before. I call picking the next one!” Rose bounced in place, pulling a quarter from her pocket in anticipation.

Her remaining friends joined them a few moments later, Alya sending her an apologetic glance for the interruption. Marinette just waved her apology away with a smile, hoping desperately that no one else noticed her teary eyes and shaky hands. 

As the voices of her friends idle chatter surrounded and warmed her, she chanced a glance back up at the jukebox, eyes drawn to that song she didn’t think she could ever dance to again.

Un Petit Chat Sur Un Toit stared back.

___ 

No day out with her friends was complete without the simultaneous beeping of all of their phones, of all phones throughout Paris. After about a year, the Akuma Alert had streamlined into an efficient process, allowing every Parisian- and even tourist- to avoid this weeks’ disturbance, making their lives easier.

Well, for everyone except Marinette. She had a caffeine hyped and intensely motivated reporter friend who didn’t fear akumas nearly as much as she should. Alya’s phone appeared back into its natural habitat (her hand) within a heartbeat of the alert, camera facing her and livestream on.

“Hey Ladybloggers! This just in: a new akuma has made an appearance at the Louvre, wreaking havoc with what’s been called ‘psychic powers.’ No supers at the scene yet, but it’s only a matter of time before Ladybug and Chat Noir show up! Stay tooned and I’ll get you all a glimpse.” Excitement poured from Marinette’s friend as she read the news scrolling across her screen. Marinette, on the other hand, felt the familiarity of cool determination flood her. Psychic powers didn’t sound too fun for her and Chat Noir, but she knew they could handle it. They always did.

One quick ignored pleading for Alya to stay safe and one easy excuse of going to the bathroom later, Ladybug swung from rooftop to rooftop on her path to the Louvre. Only a few moments passed before a familiar shadow began to tail her, Chat Noir making his usual flamboyant entrance with a front tuck and shout.

“Beautiful day for an akuma, isn’t it bugaboo?” Not even a cheshire would be able to replicate the blinding grin shot her way.

Ladybug rolled her eyes at the nickname she didn’t even bother telling him off for anymore. She could tell it was one of his favourites, and since last week… Ladybug would let him have every inch of happiness she could give him. She felt as though she owed it to him.

“Beautiful day to beat one, you mean.” Ladybug said with a grunt, tumbling out of her front handspring and loosening her yo-yo around a spire in the distance. His laughter combatted the air whipping by her, tugging and both her heart and mouth to make her smile.

“Of course, My Lady. That poor akuma doesn’t stand a chance.” Chat really ought to be looking where he was going instead of fixing his smile her way. When Ladybug looked his way, he shot a wink her way before executing a backwards full twist on the narrow ledge- a little flashy and unnecessary. Chat Noir must’ve been showing off again. Ladybug hid a giggle at his antics as the two of them powered forward on their way to the Louvre.

Screams greeted them when they got there.

Ladybug crouched on a roof overlooking the devastating scene, Chat Noir landing at her side. They watched in grim silence as the Parisians below shouted and cried at what seemed to be nothing, demons that the two hero’s couldn’t help them fight.

“What…?” Char Noir’s breathless question came out horrified. The unspoken words were answered only a heartbeat later when a scratchy rumbling formed words behind her.

“My name is Mare.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir whirled around, hearts pounding to a synchronized beat of terror. They had advanced senses while in their suits- only a very dangerous akuma could sneak up on them. Her appearance didn’t help Ladybug’s confidence, either.

Gray and black enveloped the akumatized victim from head to gnarled foot. Her skin was closer to scales, pointed ears resembling horns. All attention was drawn to her bright eyes, white and bulbous, blind yet searching. Mare’s gaping maw opened once again, revealing rows of pointed teeth.

“Your nightmares have caught up to you, Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

A clawed hand lashed out her way, faster than Ladybug could blink- but Chat was faster. He deflected with his baton, giving Ladybug an advantage so she could strike Mare while she recovered. Ladybug’s yo-yo wrapped tight around the akuma, pulling the hissing beast towards them. It gave her a moment to analyze the writhing creature, to look for anything that stuck out as an akumatized object-

It struck first.

Her yo-yo had restrained the beasts arms and legs, but that wasn’t how it claimed its victims.

Ladybug only registered the akuma’s lips parting and tongue lashing out before Chat fell over the side of the roof from the force of a blow, letting out a yowl of shock as he fell.

“Chat!” Ladybug dove after her disoriented partner, releasing her hold on the akuma to save him. She grabbed him seconds before he would have met the pavement, landing with him in her arms.

“Chat Noir, are you okay?” He didn’t seem to hear her. Chat’s brows were drawn up in confusion, and his eyes stared right past her. But then they focused on something in the distance. Chat’s face paled.

“Chat Noir..?” Before panic could make itself comfortable in Ladybug’s subconscious, Chat’s head whipped to the side, eyes blown wide in terror.

“Ladybug!” With a desperate cry, he scrambled out of her arms and sprinted away from the akuma, in the direction of something Ladybug couldn’t see.

“Chat, I’m right here!” She chased him desperately, but his fear seemed to have more permeance than hers, for after chasing him through several alleys and over rooftops, she soon lost him.

Alone, worried, and with no idea where the akuma was, it seemed she had only one course of action.

“Lucky charm!”

Chewing taffy fell into her hands, and Ladybug felt her heartbeat slow. She had a plan.

—

Her miraculous cure could always be counted to put things back the way they should be- and so, Chat Noir appeared in a swarm of ladybugs by her side, unscathed and bright-eyed.

Ladybug smiled with the rush of a city saved. “Pound it!” She held out a fist, ready to wrap up a day of good work. But Chat just stared at her outstretched fist with full eyes.

“Is… is that really you, My Lady…?” The voice he used was not one he let out often. It was filled with vulnerability and hurt, and it hurt to hear. Ladybug took a step forward, confused but patient.

“Of course, Chat. I’m right here.” After a moment of hesitation, she slid her hand into his. A moment of horrible understanding rang through her. Mare caused her victims to see illusions of their worst fear, and Chat got hit. Ladybug had a terrible suspicion that his worst fear had something to do with her. Ladybug squeezed his hand tight.

Chat was quiet for a long moment, just staring at their joined hands and slowing his breathing. The beeping of her miraculous cut through their silence, and Chat slowly pulled his hand from hers, jaw clenched. He turned to leave, but Ladybug grabbed his arms. She couldn’t let him leave like this.

“What’s wrong, Chat?” Ladybug’s voice was soft with concern for her partner. A partner that just shook his head, still turned away from her. Ladybug moved in front of him, waiting for him to meet her eyes- but he didn’t. Chat just kept staring at the ground in front of him, jaw clenched in an attempt to keep his emotion at bay.

A second warning beeped from Ladybug’s earrings, it’s sound releasing a bitter anger from Chat.

“I’m sick of it, My Lady. I’m sick of people using my emotions, exploiting how I feel to keep me under his thumb.” A frown tugged at Ladybug’s lips, her eyes dragging over the crease that appeared between his eyes. She didn’t think he was just talking about Hawkmoth.

“Chat…” she took a slow step forward, “…is there anything you want to talk about?” Chat’s eyes snapped to hers, welling with so much hurt and desperation that Ladybug saw white for a moment- white on his suit, white in his hair, and white-hot rage in his veins. She couldn’t help but suddenly step back. The window to his whirlwind of hurt shuttered close as he took in the movement. Took in her anxiety.

“Yes, there’s a lot I want to talk about. But I know you wouldn’t want to hear it.” His eyes were twin flames, burning through the pain that lit his heart. His teeth gnashed as he continued. “You always stress how we have to work as a team, but you don’t care!” His shout cut through the easy chatter on the Parisian streets below. Ladybug could only stare at him with wide eyes, heart pounding a rhythm of I do care, of course I care, I care so much, but Chat couldn’t hear it. His eyes were fixed on the foot that stepped away from him. “All you care about is keeping our identities secret!”

Thunderous green eyes snapped to hers- a mistake. All the rage that kept his afloat left him at the startled pain in his Lady’s eyes, leaving him to drown in shame and regret. But his heart still had a few more words. He looked down to his feet.

“I… I need you, My Lady. But you keep telling me I can’t talk to you…” Chat’s voice broke, along with the confidence that kept him there. With a speed that made Ladybug flinch, Chat disappeared over the nearest roof in a flash of black.

“Chat, wait!” Her call echoed down the streets of Paris and remained unanswered. Ladybug, heroine of Paris and recent conquerer of akuma, stayed still and silent until her miraculous’s final beep.

—-

Marinette made a lot of mistakes, but this one stuck. It hovered over, lay heavily on her hunched shoulders, and whispered doubts in her ear. She was letting what she’d seen in the alternate timeline get to her- and worse, she was letting it get to Chat. Marinette hadn’t felt the sting of believing herself a failure since Stoneheart, but at her partner’s words… she felt as though she failed him completely.

Being partners was meant to make them stronger, but it seemed like they were tearing each other apart. Marinette couldn’t let that happen.

It was with that conviction that she transformed, called her kitty for a quick meeting on the Eiffel Tower, picked up her vintage boom box, and tentatively grabbed a CD she never thought she’d ever touch again.

The moon sat high in the sky by the time Ladybug arrived, brighter for the stars that stood at its side. She had to remind herself that this was what she needed- what both she and Chat needed.

He arrived a few minutes later, a streak of black holding stubbornly dark in defiance of the moon’s best efforts. Ladybug knew him well enough to know that the hunch in his silhouette’s shoulders was the result of hounding shame. That his hesitance meant he was sorry- but that he didn’t want to talk about what he’d said.

Ladybug beckoned him into the light. She tried her best not to crumple at the cautious look in his eyes that drowned out his smile.

“Beautiful night, M’Lady. But I’ve got a feline that’s not the only reason for your late night cat-call.” His glinting teeth and playful tongue were trying to tell her he was fine, but the dullness in his eyes was a fierce contradiction. Ladybug took an involuntary step forward, wishing she could put the teasing spark back into his eyes through sheer force of will. He looked desolate, desperate… he looked too much like Chat Blanc.

Ladybug’s eyes quickly flickered down to the boom box she held before that thought could catch.

“Well, you’ve always said that the team would benefit from hanging out without the threat of an akuma attack or the responsibility of patrol and I don’t usually have enough time in the day, but…” Ladybug looked up at her partner from beneath the shield of her eyelashes, suddenly nervous. The plan of tonight was little more than a determined impulse.

“… but now I have time.” She held out the boom box as if it were an explanation. Chat Noir’s ears perked up, eyes flickering from boom box to teammate. A smile crept unbidden up his face all the way to his eyes, which lit with an excited spark.

“My sweet bugaboo,” Chat teased with a quirk of his lips, “did you call me up to join you in a starlit dance for two?”

Ladybug couldn’t help the heat that rushed to her face, nor the quick instinct to defend herself against his insinuating guess (even if it was exactly what she had planned). She crossed her arms as well as she could manage with the bulk in her arms.

“Not like that, Chat!” She knew half of his smug smirk came from the fact that her face lit up like a flame- and that he had he night vision to see it. Ladybug wrangled with her emotions enough to sober herself to the task at hand after a few moments.

“I just figured…” Her famed superheroine bravery faltered just when she needed it most. The small patient smile Chat gave in response didn’t help quell the nervous butterflies that had taken residence in her stomach.

“I just figured,” Ladybug tried again, “we both need this.” She raised her eyes to see Chat’s blinking back at her, surprise mixed with something more tender. A few moments stretched between them, and this time it was Ladybug who had to look away first. The small grin Chat gave her was all the permission she needed to turn and ready the music.

With her back to him, Ladybug could feel the heat of his eyes on the back of her neck, watching as she fumbled to put the disk into her music player. After what felt like far too long for her, the music began to play.

“Un petit chat sur le toit, se languit sans sa lady…”

The woman’s voice began to spill from the speakers, flooding the night with sound. A sound that caused Ladybug’s heart to pound, and took staring at Chat Noir and fiercely reassuring herself that he was right in front of her and fine to keep herself from shutting the music back off.

If songs were capsules for memories, she was just going to have to create enough good ones to outweigh the bad. And that started with remembering that her Chat Noir was not the broken kitty that lived alone in a world he destroyed.

Ladybug’s steps were featherlight as she began to sway to the music. Chat watched her with eyes that glinted in the moonlight.

“I love this song.” He said softly, careful not to break the spell that seemed to have fallen over the two of them. Chat Noir took a step towards her, taking her hand before she could protest. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t expected Chat to slowly bring her to him, placing a hand around her waist after checking for her quick nod. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t secretly hoped for it.

Flashes of white were kept at bay by focusing of the hand in hers, on Chat’s hold on her waist. He grounded her, supported her, saved her from the memory that clawed at her from the inside. The nervous fluttering in her stomach, the sparks that leaped from glove to glove- those she couldn’t be saved from. They moved as one to the beat of the music, of what they didn’t know was both of their favourite song.

“Ladybug?” She was startled out of her thoughts, the absence of a nickname making her frown. Chat was closer than she first thought, and when she looked up, his green eyes were gazing right back at her under hooded eyelashes. When he swallowed, she felt it. Ladybug hadn’t realized their chests were nearly touching- now that she did though, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

Ladybug was transfixed, a victim to a melody that she couldn’t remember the reason for hating, in the embrace of a boy who she couldn’t remember the reason for rejecting. She was struggling to focus on what he was about to say, struggling hard because she could tell by the way he breathed deep that it was important. Ladybug could tell Chat was struggling just as hard to get the words out

“I’m sorry.” Chat breathed, and Ladybug couldn’t think of one thing he should be apologizing for.

“I’m sorry for yelling, and I’m sorry for blaming you for something that really isn’t your fault.” He twirled her under his arm. “I guess I just had a lot on my mind, and Mare’s illusion was…”

He faltered for a moment, and stumbled but Ladybug picked up where he left off without missing a beat. “It was more than I could handle without cracking.” Chat winced, and Ladybug recognized the guilt that laid in his eyes all too well.

Ladybug met his gaze. “I want you to know that you can always talk to me, Chat. Even though it would be very dangerous for us to learn too much about each other,” Ladybug’s heart leapt at a reminder of what had nearly happened to Chat (and the entire world) when she couldn’t keep her most important secret, “I’ll admit that there are things more important than secret identities. Yeah yeah, don’t look so shocked.”

Ladybug huffed in response when Chat Noir lifted his eyebrows to a comical height at her last statement. He let out a short laugh, and Ladybug joined only a moment later.

“If you ever need someone to talk to, or someone to dance with,” she shot him a shy smile, “I’ll always be here for you.”

The promise was held in the air, tested for its strength out in the night before Chat responded, sincere and hushed.

“Thank you.”

The song had ended, but Ladybug and Chat Noir still swayed together, dancing to the wild drum of their hearts. Chat spun Ladybug once again, this time ending with her back brushing against his chest, hands in his and arms crossed across her waist. Her eyes closed in the bliss of the moment as she swayed with her best friend and partner. It only lasted a moment.

Her eyes shot open and she sprang forward the moment another face raced to the forefront of her mind, the face of a boy who was sweet and considerate and cheered her up when she was down. Ladybug viciously reminded herself that she was desperately in love with Adrien Agreste, and that she definitely should not be giving Chat Noir the wrong idea by turning a very platonic dance into a heated romantic one.

The thought was almost knocked from her head as Chat Noir stood across from her with eyes wide in confusion and disappointment. His hands fell back to his sides from where they had been outstretched, holding her. Ladybug’s traitorous heart had the audacity to twinge painfully at the sight.

“The music stopped! We can’t just dance without music, so, um, we should probably go back now. It’s getting pretty late too, I’ll see you tomorrow!” The speed of which she spoke, packed up her stuff, and flew from the tower was near record breaking.