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Chapter Text

Chapter 1

♪♫ Dear Reader ♪♫

"Dear Reader,"

- - -

The soft brush of Marinette’s fingertips on the nape of his neck should have been relaxing, but Adrien was still on edge. It was a losing battle really. Laying against her chest on the couch, while she played with his hair, warm and safe. Last summer, Adrien would have considered it bliss and fallen right asleep, but he didn’t want to close his eyes, a fact that became increasingly frustrating the sleepier he felt. He could tell her to stop, but after 3 months apart, the last thing he wanted was to let go of her, even if the steady rise and fall of her chest only made his eyelids heavier.

A laugh track played from the sitcom on the living room TV Adrien had stopped watching, a heavy fog descending over him. His eyelids drooped, his vision clouding over. He took a sharp breath to wake himself up again, but the effect lasted less than a second. It had been a long day—leaving the mental hospital, saying goodbye to his mother, Nathalie, and Master Fu. Plus, M. and Mme. Dupain-Cheng cooked him a feast worthy of a king to celebrate his homecoming. He really shouldn’t have eaten that extra slice of cake. The sugar-high he’d been riding was about to run out, and he was crashing fast. He cursed himself when Marinette nuzzled closer, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, and his exhaustion took control.

The blackness was nice at first, but purple light filled his mind, flashes of deep grey eyes glaring up at him. His eyes flew open with a jolt, and he let out a sigh.

“You okay?” Marinette asked.

She was as perceptive as ever. It was one of the things he loved about her, but it made it hard to maintain the mask.

“I’m fine.” He assured her.

“Are you ready to go to bed?” She shifted to look him in the eye.

He smiled up at her and shook his head. “I don’t want to get up just yet. Let’s just stay like this a while longer, please?”

Marinette searched his expression, blue eyes filled with worry. She laid back down after a moment, seemingly appeased, and Adrien’s battle against his eyelids resumed. When he was in the hospital, he could pace in the privacy of his room or call in a nurse if his nerves became too much to bear, and although he knew the Dupain-Cheng’s would be supportive, he couldn’t bring himself to tell them about the nightmares. He was already burdening them enough.

A couple minutes passed—or maybe it was twenty—and Marinette clicked off the TV. Adrien sat up, stifling a yawn as Marinette stretched. His phone read midnight, the start of a new day. The second longest day of his life was officially over, but the sleep haze only brought with it flashes of things he’d rather not think about.

“We should go to bed,” Marinette said, her voice low and gravelly.

“Or we could stay up and play video games.” Adrien flashed her a grin, but she wasn’t biting.

“I’m exhausted, aren’t you?” She stood up.

“Oh, come on. It’s been months since you’ve kicked my butt. Just one round.” He took her hand, tugging her back to the couch, but she stood her ground.

“I’ll kick your butt tomorrow,” she said around a yawn. She stooped to give him a quick kiss, smoothing her thumb over his lips. “Good night.”

Adrien sighed as she headed for the stairs, jumping up to chase after her. “Wait, give me a real kiss good night.”

She paused on the bottom step with a moan, and Adrien flashed her a pleading look. A coy smile curled on her lips as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He pulled her in, kissing her long and deep, but as his lips parted to invite his tongue into the equation, she pulled back with a giggle.

“I love you so much, but I’m way too tired for that. I’m falling asleep on my feet,” she said. 

“Five more minutes.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “I’ve missed you.”

With a relenting sigh, she leaned in again, running her fingers through his hair. He held her close, memorizing how her body felt against his. It wasn’t completely deceptive. He had missed her, achingly so, but her pity only lasted another minute.

“Go to bed, minou.” She squished his cheeks together. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Oh, come on. We used to stay up later than this talking on the phone.” He teased. “You’ve gotten soft.”

“Bold talk coming from M. Bloodshot-Eyebags.” Marinette cocked a hip. “Why do you want to stay up so bad? Do you not like your room?”

“No!” He insisted. “No, it’s perfect. I just… You’re right. It’s late. We should go to bed.”

Marinette quirked a brow, so he leaned in to kiss her.

“Good night, mon ange.” He flashed her a smile that faded the moment she turned around and headed up the stairs.

Rubbing his hands on his soft pajama pants, he stared down the dark void at the bottom of the stairs that led to his room. Stony eyes flashed in the abyss, and Adrien averted his gaze with a huff. Squeezing his eyes shut, he mentally sifted the image from his brain. He couldn’t stay awake forever. Shaking himself to relieve the tension in his shoulders, he made his way down the stairs, making a pit stop to the bathroom, but he could only scrub his teeth for so long before he ran out of toothpaste on the brush.

Reluctantly, he found his way into his room, but unable to bring himself to get in bed, he opted to pace instead. It got old quick—4 paces from the door to the wall, 5 paces length-wise. For the first time, he missed the massive room of his childhood. He could pace for hours there. With a defeated grunt, he flopped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The bed was comfortable, and although his muscles were screaming to melt into its embrace, he couldn’t give in.

The old building creaked, and the thin walls did little to drown out M. Dupain-Cheng’s snoring. Adrien drummed his fingers on his chest, curling and uncurling his toes before jumping up and resuming his pacing. 4 paces across, 5 paces deep. 4 across, 5 deep. The walls were too close. Adrien swore they got closer with each lap, and the air in the room seemed almost too thick to breathe. He needed to get out.

Stepping with the balls of his feet, he quietly crept back upstairs to the living room. He took deep breaths, running his hands down his thighs, and paused at the base of the stairs leading to Marinette’s room. M. and Mme. Dupain-Cheng would be upset if they caught him up there, and the last thing he wanted was to make them think he was taking advantage of their hospitality. But he just needed to be near someone.

Just one more kiss good night. That was all he needed. A hug and a kiss… a really, really long hug.

His feet found each step with haste, but when his hand curled around the trap door handle, they locked into place on the final steps. Hands clenched tightly and feet glued to the stairs, Adrien stood frozen like a statue in a museum. His breath hitched, a trembling hand shooting up to catch it. His shoulders shook, and for a moment, he worried he might be sick. Creeping back down the stairs as quietly as he could, he scrambled for the kitchen sink, breaths rapid and shallow. He flicked on the faucet in anticipation, but the sensation passed after a few moments. He sat up, turning the water off, and ran his hands over his face.

It was selfish… He was being selfish, always running to Marinette with his problems. And she’d always do her best to fix them because that’s the kind of person she was—always looking out for those she loves. But he couldn’t expect her to fix everything. Even still, his restlessness showed no signs of ebbing. He needed fresh air to clear his head. Just for a minute.

He found a black Marinette branded hoodie in the closet in his room and pulled it on, then laced up his sneakers. Locking the front door behind him with the key M. Dupain-Cheng gave him earlier, he headed down the stairs and out into the night. The brisk cold almost sent him right back inside, but the air was so much clearer. He blew warm breath over his hands and rubbed them together. Summer was a distant memory in the mid-December frost.

Tucking his hands under his arms to keep them warm, he paced the sidewalk in front of the bakery, hoping the movement would warm his muscles. Just one minute, then he’d go back inside. A breeze blew past, cutting right through Adrien’s hoodie, and he ground his teeth together to keep them from chattering. He needed to move faster to stay warm. A quick run would do the trick, just around the block. Then he’d go back inside.

He picked up the pace, venturing down the pavement with increasing speed. The dreary streets were empty as Adrien ran, street parked cars that had long gone cold as their owners fled indoors. He ran past Francois-Dupont, flashes of his time there playing in his mind. He remembered his first day, how nervous and excited he’d been to meet people his age. To have a normal life. A life he’d still never quite managed… but he’d met Marinette there and Nino. And Plagg… The day Ivan was akumatized.

Adrien’s mind filled with gray, and he shook his head to clear it, pushing his legs to run faster as if he could put physical distance between him and the memory. He rounded the next corner and pressed on, cold air burning his lungs, but he couldn’t stop. Not when he passed Nino’s block or his old Chinese tutor’s house, not even when he passed the street corner he and Ladybug used to meet up at. The corner he and Marinette would meet at.

Marinette… Ladybug. His partner. His girlfriend. He wanted to see her, but it was too late. She’d be asleep by now, and he shouldn’t disturb her. Even if she’d understand and listen. Even if she’d hold him and comfort him. Even if she loved him. She’d always love him. So, why couldn’t he tell her he was struggling?

The rubber soles of his shoes skittered on a patch of ice, losing their traction, and Adrien hit the cold, hard pavement with a yelp. Pain shot up his leg as his knee collided with the concrete. He rolled onto his back, chest heaving with each breath as he stared up at the towering buildings blocking the night sky.

What was wrong with him? Why was normal so hard for him? Normal people were at home asleep at this hour, and Adrien Agreste was outside, lying in the middle of the sidewalk because he was too anxious to close his eyes. Everyone kept asking him how he was doing, and most days he told them he was getting better because that’s what they wanted to hear. But was he? Some days he felt like he was, but others… They all wanted him to be fine. He wanted to be fine. He coveted their normalcy, but it always hovered just above his grasp.

He wanted to go to school and make friends, but his father forbade him from seeing them most days while plastering his image on every billboard in town. He gained fans and wealth, while other kids played games at the park. He became a superhero with a double-life, fighting bad-guys between fencing lessons and modeling gigs. Other kids ate dinner with their families. He filmed movies that normal kids went to see, posed in clothing ads that normal people bought. His father spent the majority of Adrien’s life making sure he stood out from all the rest — making sure he’d never fit in. He became a supervillain that threatened the city, just to ensure Adrien would always be talked about. To ensure that he’d never be normal.

Everyone put him on a pedestal, but he’d trade everything to be the one looking up from the crowd. To not have to feel the way he felt. To be home in bed with pleasant dreams instead of lying haunted in the middle of the sidewalk, staring up at his ghosts in the rooftops.

He missed Plagg.

“Having trouble sleeping?”

Adrien shot up, blinking at the arms crossed in a bright pink coat. Clouds of steaming breath billowed from her mouth with each heave of her shoulders, cheeks flushed from the cold. Fuzzy pink pajamas were stuffed haphazardly into winter boots, and the blue eyes looking down at him were creased with concern.

When Adrien remained quiet, Marinette shifted her weight. “Me too.”

Adrien balled his hands into fists at his sides. “How did you find me?”

“I heard you downstairs, and I got worried. When I came out of my room, you were heading out the door, so I followed you. It’s a lot harder keeping up with you without superpowers, but I’m kind of an expert at following you.” She crouched beside him, brushing his hair out of his face as she cupped his cheek. “You okay?”

He leaned into her touch, a hot tear slicing down his cheek. He couldn’t tell if he was relieved or embarrassed to have been found out. Mostly, he just loved that she cared enough to chase after him. At the shake of his head, Marinette pulled him into her arms, and he locked his arms around her waist, his quiet sobs muffled by her thick coat. He savored her warmth, a shiver creeping up his spine.

“No one expects you to heal all at once, Adrien,” she murmured in his ear. “I will always be here for you, and so will Maman and Papa and all of our friends. We all love you, and we’ll be with you every step of the way through all of the good and the bad. You don’t have to run and hide.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice shook. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m-”

“It’s okay.” She squeezed him tighter. “I’ve got you. Always.”

Always.

Marinette pulled back, taking his hands in hers. “Come on, let’s go home. It’s freezing out.”

“Yeah…” Adrien let her help him to his feet, wincing against the pain in his knee. He did his best not to limp on the way back to the bakery, keeping a tight grip on her hand.

Marinette shook herself when they were back inside. “The good thing about living above a bakery is the brick ovens keep the building warm in the winter.”

“I’m partial to the lingering smell of fresh croissants,” he said.

“That’s another plus.” She flashed him a smile, and he felt one tugging at the corners of his own lips. “Come on, let’s get you in dry clothes.”

She toted him up to the apartment, only letting go of his hand when he needed to change, but her fingers trailed up his bare back as she helped him out of his shirt. He shivered, goose bumps dotting his skin while she helped him into fresh pajamas. Her hands were small and dainty, but they kept him grounded enough to crawl into bed. Marinette laid beside him on the edge, running her fingers through his hair. He really had missed her touch.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked.

“Anything,” she said.

“What are your nightmares about?”

She paused mid-stroke, her fingers warm on his scalp. Shifting to look him in the eye, she pursed her lips. “It’s always that same day. You’re there crying on the ground, but I can’t ever reach you. No matter how hard I try, you’re always just out of reach.”

“For me, it’s my father. The moment that purple light fades, and all I see are his eyes glaring up at me with hatred and anger. I see those eyes everywhere, like he’s still looming over me. It feels like I’ll never be free of him.” Adrien squeezed her hand.

“We’ve been through too much,” Marinette said. “But we survived. Miraculously.”

“Barely.” Adrien grunted. “Is it weird that I miss how things used to be? For the longest time, all I wanted was to defeat Hawkmoth with you. To ride off into the sunset when the day was saved. It sounds selfish, and maybe it is, but now, I wish things could go back to the way they were. Fighting by your side, both in and out of the mask. I’d never been happier.”

“I know what you mean.” Marinette resumed playing with his hair, and after his stint out in the cold, he was grateful for her warmth. “For the longest time, I always thought that Hawkmoth was our biggest enemy, and that once we defeated him, things would go back to normal. We could be happy and free, but everything has been way more complicated on the other side of things. Those days seem so simple now.”

“Nothing’s simple anymore.” He sighed. “Do you think it ever will be?”

“Mmm.” She hummed. “I hope so. I think you and I more than deserve it.”

“Yeah…” He stifled a yawn.

“You should get some sleep. It’s been a long day,” she said.

“Will you stay with me?” he asked.

Marinette leaned to kiss his forehead and laid her head beside his on the pillow. “Of course, chaton. I’m here.”

Reluctant, but too exhausted to fight it any longer, Adrien closed his eyes. His body ached from his fall, but the bed was soft and warm. The steady brush of Marinette’s fingertips on the back of his neck helped ease the tension in his muscles, and he finally drifted off to sleep.

His nightmare began as it always did, but instead of shying away from his father’s piercing gaze, Adrien reached for Ladybug’s hand. When he turned to face her, her mask vanished in a flash of pink light, and Marinette smiled back at him. He wrapped himself in her embrace while she stroked his hair, warm and safe.

“I’m here, kitty. I’ve got you. Always.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

♪♫ this is me trying ♪♫

“I’ve been having a hard time adjusting.”

- - -

When Adrien woke a few hours later, he jolted upright, eyes flicking around the unfamiliar room, but memories of the previous day followed by a few deep breaths slowed the hammering of his heart. Marinette was gone, likely back upstairs to her room to avoid a lecture from her father about sharing a bed with her boyfriend. The digital clock on the small desk an arms-length away from his bed read 5:23AM, but his mind was awake and racing, making any hope of falling asleep again pointless.

Swinging his legs around to the floor, Adrien stood up with a pained hiss as his knee twinged in protest, still sore from his fall on the concrete. He hobbled over to the bathroom where he found some lidocaine cream and rubbed it onto the forming purple bruise. It helped, a little anyway, and he continued upstairs. The lack of loud snoring coupled with the intensifying scent of fresh bread as he climbed the stairs signaled that M. Dupain was already awake and hard at work in the bakery downstairs.

The living room was dark and still, and Adrien paused at the base of the stairs leading up to Marinette’s room, tugging at the hem of his shirt. It was way too early to wake Marinette up, and after chasing him around in the cold for an hour, he doubted she’d be too happy if he did. He could see if M. Dupain needed any help in the bakery, but he didn’t know the first thing about baking. Actually, he’d probably be more of a hindrance than a help… Maybe he could make breakfast?

Adrien maneuvered his way to the fridge in the dark, wincing against the light when he opened it, and as he scanned the shelves, it dawned on him that he also didn’t know the first thing about cooking. He’d always wanted to learn, but his father forbade him from using the stove, a memory that brought with it flashes of dark grey he’d rather not think about, so he shut the fridge with a huff. Breakfast was off the table until Mme. Cheng woke up, he supposed.

He could go for another run, but his knee throbbed at the very thought. Video games? He wasn’t in the mood, besides he didn’t want to wake anyone up, which also ruled out TV. School was out for Christmas, all of his friends were probably asleep, he didn’t see his therapist again for a few days, and there were no lessons or photoshoots scheduled for him. There was no schedule for him. The thought made his pulse race. Although part of him had known having a packed daily schedule organized for him by his father’s assistant wasn’t normal, in a strange way, he relied on it. For so long it had been his normal, and without it…

Adrien sat on the couch quietly, chewing the inside of his cheek and curling and uncurling his fingers. It was all he knew how to do in the moment. Sit. Wait for instructions. Wait for permission. Gray eyes. He sighed. He couldn’t take his anxiety meds for a few more hours, besides he needed to take them with food, which he didn’t know how to cook. Gray eyes. Deep breaths.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right.” That felt obvious.

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

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

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

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

“Thank you — for everything,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m okay,” Adrien said.

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

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

“You’re up early,” Adrien remarked.

“I have a job now,” she grumbled.

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

“How did you sleep?” she asked.

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

“Oh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Morning, Danielle,” Marinette said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, Adrien.” 

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

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

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

“So, you’re struggling to adjust?”

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

“That’s normal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

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

“Yeah, see you then.” Adrien hung up.

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

“Getting lonely, huh?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, buginette. How’s work?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We brought pizza and games,” Martin added.

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

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

“I love you too,” he said.

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

“I missed you guys too,” Adrien said.

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

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

Nino was right. He was free. His father was locked up, and from the sound of it, wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon. All of his earlier frustrations seemed to melt away, and the worries he’d held seemed so obviously false. Things were different now. No one wanted him to be alone. Everyone loved him and would do anything for him. Perhaps he’d felt so anxious because his father had always limited anything good in his life, and maybe in a way, he had felt like all of this would go away too. But as he settled into a board game with his friends, the looming feeling of dread on the back of his neck eased. This was his life now. He could have friends over whenever he wanted, and soon enough, he’d be able to go anywhere he wanted. And one day, his father’s shadow would stop looming over him for good.