Chapter Text
For the third night that week, Ladybug was watching Adrien’s window. She sat slumped back against a chimney, forcing her chest to rise and fall in slow, even breaths. Fighting the weight of numbness seeping closer and closer to her heart.
It wasn’t an unbearable heaviness—not anymore. What remained were the hollow remnants of pain her tears hadn’t quite washed away. Throat raw, eyes burning. She couldn’t quite name the feeling that lingered, but it was certainly one of wanting. No, of needing.
It attacked from every angle, as inescapable as fate. It kept her as small as she deserved to feel, on the precipice of crumbling. But she wasn’t allowed to fall apart. Not tonight.
This was all her fault.
Ladybug blinked up at the sky, knocking her head against the chimney. A sniffle slipped out, and she clenched her teeth, swallowing the sob that threatened to follow. Her fist beat against the roof as she struggled to control her breathing. In and out. In and—nope. This wasn’t working.
She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes; darkness swirled beneath her lids. One more deep breath allowed her to sit up a little straighter. Little by little, she took hold of herself, remembering why she’d come. She needed to protect Adrien.
He’d climbed into bed over an hour ago, so he was likely asleep by now. And that meant he was probably safe from Akumas. He’d likely been safe before, too; there had been no trace of Akuma activity since Monarch’s defeat. But Ladybug couldn’t take that chance. If somehow the Butterfly Miraculous had fallen into the wrong hands, and its new holder decided it was time to act…
If Adrien was akumatized tonight, Ladybug just might let him win.
Fixing her eyes back on his window, she soon lost track of time. Exhaustion made its home in her limbs and pressed against her chest. She could barely keep her eyes open. A giant yawn seized her, and she was nearly ready to call it a night. Then she opened her eyes to see a shadow flying towards Adrien's window, one that seemed to flicker in the night, as if encompassed by a magical light. An Akuma.
Spurred awake by a sudden rush of adrenaline, she leaped to her feet, pulling out her yo-yo and launching it across the street. All her movements felt wrong. Discombobulated. She couldn't move fast enough. By the time she made it into the air, she'd lost track of the shadow, and her heart sank. No! No-no-no-no—oh.
She'd swung halfway across the street when the "shadow" flew back into view, only this time Ladybug could see it clearly. She could see how it only seemed to glow because of how it caught the street lights, and she watched it fly above Adrien's wall of windows to land on the mansion's roof, where it stretched its wings out widely before it began pecking at something.
Pecking. Like a bird.
Not an Akuma.
Unfortunately, by the time Ladybug processed that, she'd run out of time to react to the situation at hand. She tried to retract her yo-yo, hoping to snag a new target and change her trajectory in time, but the string was stuck.
Stuck?! It never got stuck! Not like this. It was meant to react to her will, which was very clearly in favour of a stealthy retreat.
She gave another hard tug on the string, but it was no use. Before she could do anything other than emit a panicked squeal, she crashed into Adrien's window, sliding down a few centimetres like a bug smushed against the glass.
Ha. Chat Noir would have liked that pun. Maybe if she made it out of this situation before dying of embarrassment, she'd have a chance to tell him about it.
It soon became clear, however, that her yo-yo still had no plans to facilitate a speedy getaway. Beholden to the whims of the string, she was soon pulled away from the window. She kicked her feet, trying to control the motion, but only succeeded in spinning around slowly, so her shoulder now faced the glass. Great.
Her only hope was that the crash hadn’t woken Adrien—and that she’d still be able to escape long before he noticed. So she forced herself to calm down, hanging limply until she gained some idea of how to better control the string. If she could find a foothold, maybe she could adjust her leverage. But all the windows were closed; there was barely a ledge to stand on. Not that her legs were even long enough to reach the bottom from her current position.
Huffing in frustration, she kept as still as she could until she spun back to face the window. Then she let go of the string with one hand, waving it like an idiot to try and swing closer, so she could grab the side of the nearest pane of glass. Her fingers were finally grazing the edge when she noticed movement from inside.
Adrien had climbed out of bed, and was now walking towards her.
Ladybug froze—inasmuch as she could when hanging in midair. Swinging lazily on her string, arm still outstretched, her eyes fixed on Adrien’s shadowy form. She couldn’t look away, no matter how much her hammering heart urged otherwise. But when his face caught the moonlight—when she could clearly see the way his gorgeous green eyes shone with sadness—she finally turned her head, squeezing her eyes shut to suppress another wave of tears.
That almost made things worse. With her eyes closed, it was way too easy to picture the way he’d looked earlier that day—his forehead pinched in confusion, lips trembling, and fingers reaching for hers as she pulled away. She could almost hear his voice, the way it shook. Marinette, please. I don’t understand.
Of course he didn’t understand. She’d broken up with him out of nowhere, without so much as providing a proper reason why—because what could she have told him? Sorry, Adrien. I can’t really tell you why I’m breaking up with you, because if I were brave enough to tell you, we wouldn’t be breaking up at all. And besides, I’m doing this so you’ll be happy! It’s what Monarch—I mean, your father—wanted. Isn’t that neat?
Yeah. That would have gone over well.
So many secrets had come between them. So many lies. Ladybug had spent so many nights camped across the street from his room, trying to work up the courage to tell him the truth, but something always held her back. She couldn't bring herself to tear his world apart, to rip the smile off his face. But she couldn't handle the other side of things either. She couldn't keep going on dates with him while he held her in the highest regard, like she could do no wrong.
And now she felt even worse. Hearing the window swing open, she could barely breathe.
“Ladybug?” He sounded steadier than he had in her memories, but not by much. “Why—what are you doing here?”
Not knowing if she could speak without bursting into tears, she gave her best attempt at a shrug—probably not a gesture that translated very well when she was hanging from a yo-yo string. She wasn’t even sure if she was facing him anymore. She still couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes.
“Are you, uh…is everything okay?” Adrien asked.
Ladybug forced a hum of agreement, but actual words were still beyond her ability. If she opened her mouth right now, she would definitely cry. Then Adrien—being the sweetheart he was—would ask what was wrong, and she’d probably take one look at him before blurting everything out. Which meant that Adrien would figure out her identity. And then he’d think she was a psycho for coming over here to watch him all night. Or worse—he’d figure out she hadn’t recovered the Butterfly Miraculous. He’d know she was a liar. He’d never trust another thing she said—and why should he?! Then an Akuma would pop up out of nowhere, and—
Adrien cleared his throat, distracting her from her spiral. “Um…if you need to talk about anything, or…I don’t know. If I can help you in any other way…”
A pang slashed through her heart. The last thing she deserved was Adrien’s sympathy. And the fact that he’d even notice something wrong with her? That he’d offer support when he was hurting so much? It made her love him even more.
But she couldn’t unburden herself on him. Even if she found a way to keep things vague, it wouldn’t be fair. So she swallowed the lump in her throat and slowly forced her eyes open, sucking in a sharp breath when she realized they were face to face.
“Fime, I—I’m fine! I’m just, uh…hanging out!” She nodded to the string. “Get it? Hanging?”
Adrien’s smile came a few seconds too late—like his mind was stuck elsewhere. His response was just as mechanical. “Funny.”
“Yep, that’s me! Ladybug: your everyday clown!”
She’d hoped that might earn her a laugh—if only one borne out of pity. But if anything, Adrien only seemed more alarmed. Of course he does, she thought bitterly. Adrien hates clowns!
“Right.” He blinked furiously a few times, then dropped his gaze. Which of course made her want to cry again.
She had to get out of here. “L-look. I’m sorry I disturbed you. I really didn’t mean to wake you up, I just…” She gestured vaguely to the roof. “There was this bird, and for a second I thought…well, never mind! I’m going to leave you alone now—as soon as I get unstuck, I promise.”
She tugged violently on her yo-yo, and the string finally gave way. Sort of. She yelped as she slid down—maybe a metre—before it got caught again. At least her feet were finally level with the base of the window.
“I’m fine!” she told Adrien. Another lie. She started swinging her body again, reaching desperately for the window. Her fingers brushed the frame, and she scrambled frantically for a hold. “A-ha! It shouldn’t be long now…”
In retrospect, planting her feet on the inside edge of Adrien’s window and pulling like her life—since her dignity was already a lost cause—depended on it might not have been the best idea. On the one hand, the yo-yo did come free after several particularly fierce tugs. On the other hand, Ladybug wasn’t ready for a sudden shift in the forces holding her in place. She didn’t have anything to steady herself on—well, nothing except for Adrien’s shoulder. But by the time she made contact, she was already falling. She only succeeded in taking him down with her.
He landed on the floor with a grunt, arms wrapping around her as she fell back against his chest. And, in an instant, the rest of the world fell away. She forgot about everything that had led to this moment. All she knew was the feeling of her heart racing and his warm breath puffing against her cheek and the way she fit so perfectly in his arms. She never wanted to leave.
Adrien shifted, and the fantasy cracked. All of a sudden she was too close. Too comfortable. She tried to roll out of his arms, but met resistance. Her breath caught in her throat as his hold tightened briefly around her, then all of a sudden he let go, sliding out from under her. She rolled off of him, onto her side, and their eyes met. His were wide with alarm, and she reached out instinctively to soothe him, sliding a hand across his chest until she remembered she had no business doing that—not as Ladybug. Not at all, anymore.
She yanked her hand away, leaving him gaping at her. Then they both started speaking at once.
“Ohmygosh, I shouldn’t have—”
“I’m sorry. I—“
“No, I’m sorry.”
“—I shouldn’t have—with my arms around you—it was just a habit, you know?”
“Did I hurt you?” Ladybug checked him over, patting his head until he dodged away, sitting up.
“I mean, a reflex!” Adrien dragged his fingers through his hair. “Definitely not a habit.”
“I’m so so sorry, I should have been more careful—”
“Because I definitely don’t usually catch superheroes! Just that one time.”
“—because I swear I don’t normally fall on civilians, and—”
“Or something like twenty-five thousand times, I guess. But it’s not like I caught you every time, so—”
“What?” Ladybug finally realized they’d been having two different conversations, but it took her a few seconds longer to actually process what he’d said. “Oh! You mean, when you were…”
Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “When I had the Snake Miraculous. Yeah…”
“Oh.”
All at once, the nervous tension they’d been hurling back and forth seemed to evaporate—though it didn’t do much to lighten the mood. Adrien was still staring at her, chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath. His eyes were as red as hers must have been, and when she glanced down, his hands were shaking.
Some part of her mind was still screaming at her to leave, but it was overridden by a sixth sense of sorts—by the overwhelming knowledge that Adrien wasn’t okay.
“Are you all right?” she whispered.
Adrien ducked his head, rubbing his hands against flannel pyjama pants—a pair she’d made for him, with fabric he’d chosen. Apparently it matched the colour of her eyes. “I’m fine,” he croaked. “You didn’t hurt me.”
But she had hurt him—maybe not in the fall, but with everything else. A single tear slipped down his cheek, one he tried to hide from her as he turned away, wringing his hands.
Ladybug pressed her trembling lips into a thin line, inhaling slowly. “But you’re crying.”
“Not because of you. I just…it’s been a long day. My girlfriend—or not my girlfriend anymore, I guess—she…” His lips quirked up in a sad smile. “Well, never mind. I’m sure you have places to be, and I don’t expect you to care about—”
“But I do care! Of course I care.”
Adrien’s eyes snapped back to hers. His mouth dropped open, jaw working like he wanted to say something, then snapped shut just as quickly. His face crumpled, and the tears he’d been trying to hold back came flooding out.
He buried his face in his hands, and without thinking twice, Ladybug moved to comfort him, setting a hand on his back. The contact sent shockwaves up her arm; he tensed beneath her touch. Maybe he didn’t want her comfort. After all, she was practically a stranger to him.
But before she could pull away, he leaned into her, head finding her chest. Her throat tightened. How could Adrien trust her so easily? How could she sit here beside him like she didn’t know she was the one making him cry?
Then again, how could she abandon him right now?
She snuck her arm around his shoulders, hesitantly pulling him closer. He yielded easily, hugging her tightly around the waist. Sobs continued to wrack his body. The sound of each one dislodged her heart—like a lever whacking a pinball back into play.
When he finally managed to speak, each word stabbed into her chest. “She said she…she didn’t want to…she couldn’t…” Another sob slipped out. “I don’t understand.”
“I know.” Ladybug hugged him tighter, resting her chin on his head and fixing her watery eyes on the ceiling. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head, sniffling loudly, then fell silent for a while. When he spoke again, his words were still drenched in pain, but at least they were more coherent. “She said I’d be better off without her. But that—she must have misspoke. It makes no sense. She’s…I just love her so much, and” —his voice broke— “I thought she loved me too.”
The urge to break down alongside him was so strong it nearly tore her apart. She tried to think of something to say—some way she could reassure him she did love him without giving herself away. But there was nothing.
“She’s an idiot,” she finally managed.
“No,” Adrien said, without a hint of hesitation. He pulled away, sitting up and wiping at his eyes. “She’s amazing. I just wish I knew what I did wrong. Maybe…maybe if I had a chance to fix it…”
God. She couldn’t handle Adrien thinking it was his fault. “Maybe it wasn’t anything you did. Maybe it just…had to be that way.”
“No.” He drew his knees to his chest, staring at the floor as he spoke. “I must have screwed up somehow. I must have missed something.”
“You don’t know that.”
Adrien shrugged. “She won’t even talk to me. She’s not answering my messages, and Al—her best friend just keeps telling me to ask her, but…I don’t know how. She even left the group chat. It’s like…like she wants nothing to do with me anymore.”
“No. That’s not…that can’t be true.” It wasn’t true. She wanted everything to do with him.
It was herself she hated right now.
Adrien just shook his head again, sniffling. Ladybug fumbled for something else to say, but she was nearing her breaking point. Her emotions were coiled so tightly inside her, it was a miracle she didn’t spontaneously combust.
Eventually, Adrien broke the silence. “You can go. I’ll be okay.”
The look on his face didn’t make it seem like he’d be okay, but Ladybug knew she couldn’t stay much longer before he realized she was as much of a mess as he was. “Are you sure?”
Another sad smile crossed his face. He seemed to deliberate his next words carefully. “Marinette…she always noticed things. Well, there’s lots she didn’t notice, too—I mean, she could barely remember to change out of her pyjamas before leaving the house, so maybe it seems weird to think of her noticing…um. Sorry. I’m not making sense.”
He took a deep breath, rubbing his face with both hands. “She always noticed things about me. Things other people didn’t—like how I hated modelling, or when I was upset…she could just tell. And it took me way too long to realize how much she picked up on, but once I did…everything just made sense. Like, how I always felt safe with her. How I could always be myself with her. And now…”
Ladybug hung on to his words as he trailed off uncertainly, desperate to know how his story would end. What he really thought about her, now that she’d broken his heart. But it soon became clear he didn’t intend on sharing the rest—or maybe he didn’t know how to. There was a faraway look in his eyes, one she knew would haunt her for weeks, or even months.
Shifting closer, she set a careful hand on his arm. “Now?” she prompted, voice trembling.
“Now…I guess I’ll be fine,” he said slowly. “Eventually. Probably. But even if I’m not, well…who’ll be around to notice?”
I will, Ladybug answered in her head. But what did it matter? She couldn’t be close to him anymore. If he even wanted to be her friend once things settled down, wouldn’t it be too hard?
It wasn’t like she could keep visiting as Ladybug, either. She couldn’t let him think he meant anything more to her than any other civilian.
She was useless. No matter what she noticed, no matter how much Adrien needed her, she wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing.
“I’m sorry.” She stood abruptly, and was already climbing onto the window before realizing she ought to say goodbye. But her whole body was shaking, and tears were streaming down her cheeks again. She couldn’t turn back. “I shouldn’t have…I have to go.”
She fled before she could hear his response.