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That Which Holds Us - Chapter 8

Pairing(s): Adrien / Marinette, Nino / Alya Summary: It has been several months since Ladybug and Chat Noir discovered their true identities. Now that they are not trapped by secrets, they can finally be their full selves around each other and have never been closer. Marinette is going into her final year at university, Adrien is exploring new classes and passions, and their friends Alya and Nino seem to be moving towards a happy future together. It all feels like things could not be better. But of course, nothing in life is quite so perfect. When Adrien starts having vivid nightmares and visions about his mother, old questions begin to resurface. Will he be able to find the answers, or will these ghosts from the past tear apart the heroes of Paris for good? Reminder, you can also read / follow this fic at AO3 here, and FF.net here. Previous Chapters Chapter Word Count: 9,054 Enjoy!!!

SCRATCH THE CAT: CHAT NOIR CALLED ‘CATACLYSMIC’ TO THE CITY’S SAFETY

Paris is in uproar as critical attentions turn to one of our long-time protectors. Dozens of civilian witnesses to recent Akuma attacks have expressed concern for Chat Noir’s mental state. On multiple occasions – the earliest going back to September, when the ‘Beau Constrictor’ terrorized an annual dinner party hosted by esteemed fashion designer, Monsieur Gabriel Agreste – the masked hero has been seen halting in his attacks, often clutching his head or collapsing unresponsive to the ground.

“He’s fine!” Ladybug had said in reply to questions after the Beau Constrictor’s rampage. “That was just part of [the Akuma’s] attack, you know the legends with Medusa and snake charming and stuff, he was just suffering a mental attack no one could see!”

But despite Ladybug’s claims that all is well, reports have shown a pattern that has many suspecting this strange behavior was not an isolated incident. The morning following that initial demonstration showed a repeat of Chat Noir’s disturbing episode. In another attack, eyewitnesses recount how Ladybug had struggled to fight off the Akuma called ‘Plagiaress,’ screaming desperately for Chat to help her while he lay curled up and useless.

“It was scary,” an anonymous witness told us after the battle. “I thought my son and I were going to have to watch Ladybug get killed right before our eyes, while the only person there who could help her did absolutely nothing.”

For much of the last decade, our city has grown comfortable in the knowledge that, no matter how violent or devastating an Akuma attack may be, our heroic duo would always be able to set things right in the end. But this common knowledge was torn to shreds last January, when Marinette Dupain-Cheng – an aspiring designer attending the International Fashion Academy – was put into a coma after being caught in an attack. L’Hotel du Collationer – the location of her class’ annual Student Exhibition Gala – and the street outside sustained lasting damages after the ‘Puppet Master’ raged through.

“[We have] been under the impression that our superheroes could always take care of everything,” says Madeline Linwright, a local museum curator and eyewitness to yet another of Chat Noir’s episodes during the attack of the ‘Songbird’ just two days ago. “But that’s not true, is it? A girl ended up in the hospital last winter because our heroes weren’t paying attention and couldn’t defeat the Akuma in time. So, who’s to say it won’t happen again because Chat Noir is slacking off?”

Many are calling for the cat to turn in his mask and demanding that Ladybug find someone more stable to be her sidekick. While there are still plenty who argue in Chat Noir’s defense, enough believe that the people of our city and their well-being should be a top priority. As another anonymous witness said, “If our heroes can’t protect us, who will?”

Alya frowned as she scrolled through her phone, closing one eye as if it would soften the blow of what she read.

Every news channel coming across her feed was full of similar articles. The consensus seemed to accuse Chat Noir of negligence when it came to protecting the civilians of Paris.

Her jaw clenched as she thought of how unfair their accusations were. After watching Chat Noir spend the last decade fighting to protect them all from countless attacks, seeing everyone suddenly turn against him brought a foul taste to her mouth. She, having fought beside him on numerous occasions, knew more than most how dedicated he was to fighting their enemies. Even though she’d always looked up to Ladybug most, Chat had a level of care and empathy that no one could hope to touch. He was always ready to sacrifice himself for others. And while some might consider that rash or reckless, in her eyes it more than qualified him to be one of the city’s saviors.

Besides, he was nobody’s “sidekick.”

“Excuse me, are you in line?”

A voice beside her made Alya jump. Looking up from her phone, she saw a disgruntled older man raise his eyebrows expectantly.

“Oh, yes I’m sorry!” she said, realizing that it was her turn to step up to the barista and order. She quickly did so and moved aside to wait.

It only took a minute or two before they called her name. She gathered up her cappuccino and a paper bag containing a scone, and made her way to the door.

The afternoon was brisk as sunlight filtered through the yellowing leaves of the trees. It was the first cool day of the season, the promise of Autumn whispering in each gentle breeze. Paris had gotten its first real frost the night before, and though most of the flowers had suffered for it, Alya was welcoming the change after such a blazing Summer.

She made her way to a small rickety table near the sidewalk. Her class was in less than an hour, but the building was nearby, and she was looking forward to a brief moment of calm. On top of the news being a huge source of tension, her first round of midterms had her ready to start tearing her hair out – she half expected to develop an ulcer any day now.

Resting her bag on the ground beside her chair, she pulled out the scone and placed it on a napkin. She took a sip of the cappuccino and pushed all her frantic and jumbled thoughts to the back of her mind, focusing on how the cloud of foam tickled her lips; how the smooth, bold espresso flowed over her tongue, and left a hot trail down her throat. Pinching off a small, flakey bit of scone, she dipped it into the cup and popped the buttery pastry into her mouth.

She could feel herself entering a place of peace as her shoulder muscles began to relax.

A trio of young children were playing in the large stone courtyard beside her and the café. Their similarities made her think that they must be siblings. She could see no adults present to watch over them and assumed their parents must be in one of the nearby shops running errands.

The eldest boy – maybe eleven or twelve years old – was bouncing a ball several feet into the air by spiking it to the ground. His sister – who could have been his twin – would try to punt it back to him using her forearms together as if it were a volleyball. Their younger brother was running around them, one of his shoes coming untied, giggling and trying to kick the ball back whenever they shot it too far. Which was quite often.

Alya grinned as she watched them. They reminded her of her younger sisters when they were children. Taking another bite of her scone, she sighed happily.

It was then that she felt it.

A slight tremor vibrated her cup on the table. Looking at it, she saw the espresso ripple as a second shudder came. It was small enough that most people nearby didn’t react; only a few paused to look around, frowning in confusion.

The eldest boy was one of them. He halted his toss as his smile disappeared, his eyes finding Alya’s as she stared back at him, waiting…

Seconds stretched on as nothing happened. The few people who had stopped what they were doing shook their heads and carried on. The girl and the youngest boy were laughing and calling to their brother to throw the ball already.

He stayed frozen, gazing at Alya.

She could feel herself tensing up again, all sense of calm lost as everything inside her screamed that something was wrong.

A low rumble pulsed through the ground, loud enough to halt everyone in their tracks. With a deafening CRACK, the courtyard split. Massive slabs of stone rocketed skyward, sending great clouds of dust and debris into the air. From the gaping chasm, great vines as thick as trains heaved out of the earth. More vines emerged all down the street, several punching through the walls of the surrounding buildings.

‘An Akuma,’ Alya realized grimly.

Screams filled the air as a hailstorm of cobblestones rained down. One the size of a phonebook narrowly missed Alya as she ducked underneath her small table, clutching her bag to her chest. Coughing, she frantically peered through the gloom, trying to see where the kids had ended up. It looked like one of the largest vines had launched right through the center of their game.

The street’s destruction had been so explosive that all noises were muffled by the ringing in her ears. As she strained to catch any sign of them, she barely made out what could only be a child’s crying. Throwing caution to the wind, Alya sprang out from her table, slung her bag over her shoulders and hurried out into what used to be the courtyard.

The girl and the youngest boy were huddled together near a wall, caked in a thick layer of dust. The boy was crying, his tears leaving muddy tracks down his cheeks.

Alya stumbled over to them, flinching as another small earthquake shook the ground. There was a fresh round of screaming in the distance. Falling to her knees, she held her hands out to them.

“Are you guys ok?” she inquired, her voice sounding distant to her still-ringing ears.

The girl looked at her with wide frightened eyes.

“P-Peter…” she stammered. “He is… we were separated. He shouted that he was going to find Mom, but I-I didn’t see what happened to him…”

“Is Peter your brother?” Alya asked urgently, straightening up a little to scan the area for the third boy. Seeing nothing, her stomach twisted, but she turned back to the other two and asked, “What are your names?”

“Kahlah,” the girl said, her voice small. “This is Rory.”

“Ok, Kahlah, my name is Alya. Where is your mom?”

“M-mom was in the bodega across the street,” Kahlah said, blinking back tears.

Another rumble shook the ground beneath their feet, triggering more screams along their block.

Looking around, Alya tried to discern any safe way to get the two children to the other side of the street; a huge slab of the road had been erected like a wall, and vines bared any other option they might’ve had. As she tried to think, the vines began to writhe.

“Come on!” Alya said, gesturing for them to take her hands. “We need to get somewhere safe, hurry!”

“B-but Peter isn’t back y-yet–” Kahlah stammered, sounding beside herself with fear.

“I know!” Alya insisted. “But it really isn’t safe to wait here, alright? I’ll help you find him and your mom when things calm down a little, I promise!”

Kahlah finally nodded, and they both took hold of her hands.

Alya scooped Rory up with one arm so that he wouldn’t trip over his shoelace. With her other hand, she gripped Kahlah’s tightly and hurried them back towards the café. One of the waiters was standing just inside the door. When he saw them, he opened it and gestured wildly for them to hurry. They rushed past him and joined a dozen other people huddling in kitchen.

It was dim, the only light coming from a door opened to the back alley. Alya realized that the power must have been cut off by the vines tearing up half the street. She knelt onto the tiled floor beside one of the large industrial fridges and settled Rory into her lap as Kahlah tucked her face into Alya’s neck.

“Shhh shh, it’s ok,” she reassured them softly, running her fingers through Kahlah’s hair. She could feel Rory’s silent tears wetting the front of her shirt.

Looking around, she recognized the café’s staff, but most were quite obviously other civilians who had just been out enjoying their day. One older woman sitting on a stool beside the back door held a couple paper grocery bags.

A tremor shook the building, pulling a few gasps from the group.

“Don’t worry,” said an older gentleman with a moustache and staff apron. “I made sure to have my shop reinforced to withstand high-level earthquakes after it was caught in an attack a few years ago. I doubt even a dragon could take it down now.”

A couple people chuckled, including Alya. To someone from anywhere else in the world, his remark might sound like a joke; but to the people of Paris – who had literally seen at least two actual dragons in the last decade – it was a mere statement of reassuring fact.

“See? It’s going to be ok,” Alya murmured to Kahlah and Rory. “In fact, I bet it’s all going to be over soon, you know?”

Kahlah peered up at her, unshed tears in her dark eyes.

“I’m not joking,” Alya continued. “This is exactly the kind of thing that Ladybug and Chat Noir are experts at taking care of. Do you guys like Ladybug?”

Rory nodded, mumbling a watery, “Mmhmm.”

“I like Chat Noir,” Kahlah said quietly.

“Me too,” Alya said, but her words were drowned out by a derisive scoff coming from a few feet away.

A man leaned forward to frown at them.

“Oh please,” he said in response to Alya’s sharp glare. “The guy’s a total failure. The way he’s been screwing up these last few weeks? It’s only a matter of time before that useless pretty boy gets someone killed.”

Alya opened her mouth to give him a biting retort, but before she could say anything there came angry rebukes from the rest of the group.

“C’mon, dude,” said the younger man sitting across from Alya.

“Seriously?” came a woman’s voice. “Now is not the time.”

“What?” The guy looked around indignantly at everyone’s reproachful looks. “Haven’t you idiots been watching the news? That guy is totally not good enough for Ladybug. Or for us!”

“Nobody asked you,” hissed the woman with the groceries.

He clenched his hands into angry fists.

“I’m just sharing an opinion! Are we not civil enough here to tolerate other people’s opinions, now?!”

Another tremble ran through the building. Small bits of dust and plaster trickled down upon them.

Rory clung tighter to Alya.

“If you think being civil is making a couple of kids feel bad during a scary situation,” Alya snapped, “then you can take your civility outside with the Akuma.”

She shifted around a little so her shoulder was to the man.

Kahlah, her face screwed up in fear, still managed to stick her tongue out at him before turning back. That, at least, seemed to shut him up for the moment.

Alya beamed at her.

“Well,” she continued as if there had been no interruption, “I like Chat Noir, too. Did you know that I’m actually friends with them both?”

Kahlah and Rory’s eyes widened as they gazed up at her.

“It’s true! I was the first person to meet them when they defeated that very first Akuma years ago! I ran a blog all about them, so I got to interview them all the time, and –” she lowered her voice to a mock whisper, “– I even helped them save the day a bunch of times!”

“Oh! You’re the Ladyblogger?” the young man sitting across from them exclaimed. “I knew you looked familiar! I used to read your blog religiously!”

Alya laughed.

“Yep! Which is why I can say with total confidence that Chat Noir is one of the greatest and most reliable super heroes there has ever been.”

“Wow!” breathed Rory, his eyes going even more round as his and Kahlah’s fear slowly started to eb.

“It’s true,” a voice beside them said. “He really is one of the best superheroes this world has ever seen.”

Alya looked up to see a tiny old man wearing a cheerful Hawaiian shirt move to sit cross-legged on the floor beside them. His grey hair was balding, but his eyes were bright as he sipped at coffee from one of the café’s white mugs.

“I have been doing my research on the Miraculous holders throughout history for quite some time, now,” he told the children. “And I can assure you that there is no one better to save us from villains than the Chat Noir and Ladybug out there right now.”

Alya eyed him curiously.

“Really?” she asked. “I have done quite a bit of research myself, I would love to hear about what you’ve managed to learn!”

The old man looked knowingly up at her, his eyes twinkling.

“I would very much enjoy speaking with you, Mlle. Césaire. I’m sure we could come up with many interesting things to talk about.”

“Wait…” Alya said, stiffening. “How do you know my –?”

“Kahlah?” a voice cried from the front of the café. “Rory, are you in here?!”

“Mommy!” Rory yelled, sitting up on Alya’s knee as he and his sister turned to voice.

“Rory?!”

A woman, who looked so much like her children, appeared in the kitchen doorway, stricken with panic.

“Oh, thank goodness!” she exclaimed, hurrying over and falling to her knees as Kahlah and Rory jumped from Alya’s lap and into her arms. “I was so worried, I thought… wait, where is your brother?”

Kahlah and Alya exchanged a look.

“Where is Peter?” their mother demanded, going even paler than before.

“I don’t know,” Kahlah said, her voice small. “We lost him when the vines came. I thought he’d be with you?”

Looking into their mother’s terrified eyes, Alya’s stomach dropped.

Peter was still out there.

*******

Chat Noir’s heart pounded as he sprinted along the rooftops.

The Akuma loomed on the city’s skyline before him, a writhing mass of vines that moved like the tentacles of some monstrous, thorny octopus. At the center of the largest vine cluster, whole fields of enormous flowers were growing, their poisonously bright buds erupting and releasing toxic-looking clouds of pollen.

Chat sighed wearily as he neared the monster. If he had been running on fumes a week ago, the last few days of attacks and sleepless nights had taken nearly everything out of him.

“’Nother day, ‘nother monster,” he muttered, whirling his staff around to launch himself over a few more buildings.

“Chat Noir!”

He turned to see Ladybug swing up from the street to meet him.

Ducking behind a large chimney, they peeked around cautiously to survey the scene before them.

Many of the surrounding streets and buildings displayed apocalyptic levels of destruction. Massive trenches had been left by the vines all along the roads, and several buildings looked on the verge of collapsing.

“Have you found anything?” he asked, looking to her as she stared up at the flowers.

Ladybug nodded.

“This is the head florist of a shop a couple blocks down. Her assistant said that he’d accidentally left a flower shipment for a wedding outside last night, and the frost destroyed most of it. His manager went into a state of panic and that’s when things went downhill.”

Chat Noir nodded grimly.

“Any idea where the damned thing is?”

“Apparently they had been making flower crowns,” Ladybug said, glancing up at him. “Her assistant thinks he saw it go into one of the crowns she’d been holding.”

“Ok, so we need to find a tiny crown in all of… this?” he raised his masked eyebrows at her, gesturing at the many, many vines and flowers stretching out at least half a mile before them. “This is… going to take a while.”

“Look!” Ladybug said suddenly, pointing back at the immense flowers.

Chat followed her gaze, frowning until he spotted what she was referring to.

At the center of all the flowers, one large bloom had opened up like some ethereal fae throne. A woman with sickly blue skin sat upon it. Her clothes were rotten-looking black leaves, and a contrastingly bright flower crown was perched on her wild hair, the blossoms interlaced with needle-like thorns. She looked out at the world before her as if she was some mournful queen surveying her kingdom.

“Three guesses where the Akuma is hiding,” Chat Noir murmured, eyeing the crown. Even from their distance, he could see the impossibly long spikes extending from it. “Ok, so what’s the plan, M’lady?”

“You distract, I go in at the first opportunity,” Ladybug said. The calmness in her voice was strangely reassuring.

“You got it,” Chat said, spinning his staff a couple times before preparing to leap off the rooftop.

“Hey Chat?”

“Yeah?”

He turned to see her watching him and recognized the concerned set of her mouth immediately.

“Are you sure you’re up for this? You look… well…”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he shrugged. Part of him was truly touched at her concern; he appreciated having such a caring and attentive partner in his life. But his exhaustion wasn’t letting him feel much other than a strong desire to go take a nap. “I’ll be better once all this is done.”

Ladybug stared at him for another long moment before nodding.

“Ok then, if you’re sure… Let’s do this.”

And with that, they launched off the rooftop in unison.

Ladybug disappeared between the buildings, and Chat knew that she was planning to flank around to the side while he held the Akuma’s attention.

“Oi!” he yelled, perching on one of the higher chimneys before the Akuma. “Did you know there are legal consequences for the destruction of private property, you overgrown houseplant?”

The side of his mouth twisted into a grimace; his quips had not been anywhere near his usual standards as of late, but that was hardly his biggest problem right now.

The Akuma turned to him, glowering.

“My own property was damaged,” she said, her voice hissing and overlapping on itself, as if was being projected from each of the giant flowers surrounding her. “My precious ones lost their lives because of carelessness, so why should I care for what others might lose?”

“You were hurt because someone else made a mistake,” Chat shouted back, carefully watching the writhing vines snake towards him out of the corner of his eye. “You shouldn’t cause more pain and destruction just because you yourself are hurting. That becomes a vicious, never-ending cycle of destruction, and I can’t imagine you’d want that when you know how it feels.”

“People are the ones who destroy!” the Akuma hissed sharply. “They are the ones at the root of the problem, not my defenseless babies!”

“I’d hardly call a vine that can level a building in ten seconds flat ‘defenseless,’” Chat shrugged, but the Akuma didn’t seem to be listening.

“That is why,” she continued, “I am creating a world where there is no more senseless pain and destruction. A world where nature can exist in harmony, where the pollution that is mankind won’t profit from killing the very things that give them life. I am the Oasis that will give our planet a thousand millennia of peace!”

Chat would have expressed his hearty agreement for cultivating the survival and protection of nature, but he never got the chance.

The vines that had been leisurely surrounding him struck in that moment, forcing him to leap out of the way to avoid their spindly thorns. He ran, bounding from rooftop to rooftop, frantically avoiding the attacking vines by mere inches as they attempted to skewer him.

He barely had the thought of, ‘Please hurry, M’lady…’ when his overly sensitive hearing picked up a sound that made his throat constrict.

“Mom?!” a child’s voice called above the din. “Mom, where are you?!”

Taking a hairpin turn, Chat managed to throw the vines off for a split second. It was just long enough to scan the streets. He spotted a young boy, maybe eleven or twelve, running from storefront to storefront, calling frantically for his mother.

Throwing himself into overdrive, Chat leapt in the boy’s direction. He dove off the roof’s ledge and in one swift motion, tackled the boy into his arms and extended his staff directly into the ground. The force propelled them both high into the air not a moment too soon. Dozens of the lethal vines snarled around where they had just been.

Somersaulting, Chat wrapped his arms in a protective vice around the boy, cradling his head as they landed hard on a neighboring building. They rolled a few times before Chat finally caught the ledge with his foot, preventing them both from falling into the street below.

“Hey, are you ok, kid?” he asked, pulling back a little to see the boy staring up at him with wonder in his eyes.

“That was the COOLEST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME!” the boy exclaimed, his lack of fear startling Chat Noir into a grin.

“What’s your name, kid?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Peter!” he said, enthusiastically. “It’s such an honor to meet your, Monsieur Noir! Can we do that again?”

Chat laughed.

“The pleasure is all mine, Peter,” he said, rising to a crouch and snatching the boy up with one arm. “C’mon, I’m sure your mother is worried, so let’s get you to safe–”

His words were cut short as a vine the width of a minivan pummeled through the roof they stood on. It missed them by mere inches.

“Hold on!” Chat shouted as he threw himself across the street and onto the next rooftop.

The vines were coming after them, twice as violent as before.

It took all the skill Chat had in him to avoid their gnarls and tendrils. He couldn’t help a twinge of pride at how tightly Peter clung to him, arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He hardly budged as Chat twisted and turned and spiraled thought the air, searching desperately for an escape.

A flash of familiar electric blue in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Chat stumbled in surprise, narrowly managing to catch himself. Shaking a little, he plunged on. He had no time for distractions now.

Another flash of blue caused his vision to go dark for half a second, and suddenly the blood rushing through him was not just adrenaline.

‘No,’ he thought desperately, trying to blink away the hallucinations and focus on where he was. ‘No, please not now! Please!’

“Adrien…”

That familiar voice echoed in Chat’s head, silencing everything around him for a moment.

His heart leapt into his throat, panic causing him to falter as he leapt over the wide gap between buildings. His foot caught on the ledge, and Peter lost his grip as they both tumbled across the tiles.

Chat desperately regained his footing as Peter sat up and held his arms out to him once more.

“Adrien, stop this.”

Flinching, he let out a gasp and dropped to his knees.

“No…” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Please no, not now!”

He glanced up and saw a frightened look cross Peter’s face. Surging to his feet again, Chat gathered the boy into his arms and sprinted across the roof. They had just rounded a large brick divider when the world went utterly black.

“Adrien, that is enough!”

He opened his eyes and saw his mother before him. Her vivid blue glow was so intense in the void that he had to cover his eyes.

One of her hands pulled his away, uncovering his face as her other held his chin firmly.

“Why won’t you look at me, my son?” she asked, her grip forceful but her gaze contrastingly gentle.

It was the same look she had always given him, full of love of kindness. He had ached to see her look at him this way one more time for so long. So long.

“Why haven’t you come to save me, my love?” she asked, her eyes filling with such sadness that he felt his own fill with tears. “The darkness is so strong, I’ve been fighting for an eternity. Please come save me, why won’t you come save me?”

“I’m sorry,” he choked, his voice breaking on a sob. “I don’t know how.”

“Yes, you do,” she said, her voice taking on a strange, bitter intensity. “You have known it for years, you’ve just been too stubborn to do it.”

“Please… I don’t know how to save you…”

His tears were pouring down his face freely now.

“You must do what you have been fighting against for so long,” his mother said, her voice warping, becoming deeper…

Almost like…

“You must give up your Miraculous.”

Something was clinging tightly to his neck. He felt like he was suffocating under the building pressure, the darkness consuming him, choking him, destroying him.

“It is the only way,” his mother said, her voice no longer her own, yet still strangely familiar. “Things can go back to how they were. He can make everything right again. Just stop being so selfish and GIVE UP YOUR MIRACULOUS!”

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” he bellowed. Raising his clawed hand, he grappled with the force around his neck. “CATACLYSM!”

The hold on his neck loosened. He sucked in a breath of fresh air, choking as the darkness receded.

Chat Noir opened his eyes just in time to see Peter’s arms fall away from around his neck as an enormous vine shot towards them. It slammed the boy into his chest and thrust them both across the roof. Chat’s back hit the brick divider. A lancing pain ran up his spin and into his skull. Blinding light stole his vision as he cried out in pain.

He forced his eyes open, gritting his teeth as he held Peter to him. He kicked out at the vine, then knocked it farther from them with a sharp blow of his staff. He forced himself to get up, preparing once more to run.

But something felt wrong. Peter did not wrap his arms around him as he had before. In fact, he didn’t move at all.

Looking down, Chat Noir saw the vine’s thorn piercing through Peter’s chest.

In the distance, he thought he heard Ladybug calling his name, but he could not bring himself to respond. He could not move. He felt frozen as an indescribable horror coursed through his body, numbing him to everything in the world around him.

He stared disbelievingly down at Peter’s blank expression as he lay unmoving in his arms.

The boy was dead, and he, Chat Noir, had killed him.

*******

“CHAT!”

Ladybug’s scream tore from her throat. She felt as if her heart had plummeted into her stomach as she stared, horrorstruck, at Chat Noir hunched against the wall, cradling the still body of the young boy to his chest.

She had seen it unfold, her attack on the Akuma halting when she’d spotted Chat desperately trying to get the boy out of danger. She’d seen the tell-tale faltering in his escape, seen him stumble as he tried and failed to bring his mind back to reality.

‘No… No no no no NO!’

Never before had they failed to protect the people of their city. Buildings had fallen, monsters had rampaged, curses had plunged their world into total darkness… but they had always been able to keep the people safe.

Until now.

“Chat Noir!” she called again.

But he did not respond. He did not move.

She looked down at the yo-yo in her trembling hands. She could still fix this… She had to.

Whipping back around to face the Akuma once more, Ladybug saw the familiar glowing butterfly over Oasis’ face.

Her head was tilted to the side, as if seeing a superhero mourning over the body of a child was a source of deep confusion.

Ladybug couldn’t hear whatever Hawkmoth was saying to her, but she realized this must be why Oasis had not followed through with her attack on Chat Noir.

‘Now’s the time,’ she thought grimly.

She had only a small window before Oasis went back on the offense, and she wasn’t going to waste it.

“Lucky Charm!” she cried, tossing her yo-yo high into the air, desperate for something, anything to help her stop the destruction.

A plastic gallon bucket covered in polka dots dropped heavily into her hands. A pair of matching tongs was connected to the bucket’s handle by a short cord. Looking inside the lid, she saw that it was full of crystalline white cubes the size of her fist. She frowned for a moment before realizing exactly what they were.

‘Dry ice!’

Her mind immediately went back to what the florist’s assistant had told her about the previous evening’s frost destroying their flowers. Looking up at the giant blossoms between her and the Akuma, she realized exactly what she needed to do.

Rushing forward, she leapt onto one of the larger vines, ignoring how it squirmed as she narrowly avoided driving its thorns into her feet with each perilous step. She grasped the tongs firmly as she neared the first flower, its acidic pollen so thick that it was more of a toxic goo dripping down its petals. She collected the first dry ice cube and flung it directly into the flower’s center.

The effect was instantaneous.

With a strange hissing noise that almost sounded like a shriek of pain, the flower’s color paled and its petals shriveled inward. Within moments, it was overcome with frost.

But Ladybug was already moving on to the next bloom.

It took the Akuma losing four different flowers to notice what was happening. With a scream not unlike the dreadful hissing coming from the dying buds, she raised her arms imperiously and the vines surrounding her snapped back to attention.

Ladybug felt the vine she stood on buck violently. She very nearly lost her footing, but threw the next cube down in front of her. The vine quite literally froze, allowing her to continue her onslaught.

She took out several more flowers and vines, holding her breath as she leapt over a sudden cloud of toxic pollen that rose before her. She felt a searing pain as it stung the exposed skin of her neck and cheeks but ignored it.

At last she found herself standing before the Akuma.

Oasis let out another scream of frustration and charged towards her.

Ladybug was ready. Gathering the bucket firmly in her hands, she flung the last of the dry ice onto Oasis and her throne.

This time, the Akuma’s scream was one of pain as she collapsed to her knees, clutching her burned hands to her chest.

Ladybug snatched the flower crown off her head and, carefully avoiding the thorns, she pulled it apart.

The tiny dark butterfly emerged.

In one swift motion, she captured it in her yo-yo. Without a word, she cleansed it and released it back into the world.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” she screamed finally, desperately, tossing the gallon bucket and tongs into the air.

A familiar hum of energy surrounded them as millions of bright lights exploded from the charm, sweeping up and down the city streets and restoring their world to as it should be.

The Akumatized victim was caught up in the magic. In the blink of an eye, her civilian self was sitting on a rooftop balcony, looking around in confusion.

“Oh my – where am I? Ladybug! What happened? W-was I –?”

But Ladybug leapt around her, ignoring her questions. In that moment, she only had eyes for Chat Noir and the young boy.

They had not moved from their place on the roof.

Swiftly, she flung her yo-yo forward and launched up to them.

“Chat?” she asked, almost too scared to learn the truth. “Is… is he…?”

Suddenly, the boy stirred in Chat’s arms, twisting around to gaze up at her, very much alive.

Ladybug gasped, the shock of relief coursing through her.

“Wow! Hi Ladybug!” the boy said, grinning up at her.

She slumped against the side of a chimney.

“Hi,” she said, beginning to laugh. “Oh thank God, you both had me so worried!”

“What’s going on?” the boy asked, gazing over the side of the roof. “Where’s the Akuma? Wasn’t it just right here?”

“Um,” Ladybug hesitated, glancing at Chat Noir for help. But as the boy stood to his feet, Chat remained kneeling, his face stony and his shoulders rigid. “You must’ve just… blacked out? I’ve already taken care of the Akuma.”

“Aw man!” the boy said, crossing his arms. “I wish I could’ve seen it.”

“I think we got a bit too close to that Akuma for comfort, little man,” she sighed. “C’mon, is your family nearby?”

“I think they were down a block or two? I was at a café with my siblings and when the attack started. I tried to find Mom. I don’t know if they’ll still be there, though.”

“Well it’s as good a place to start looking as any,” Ladybug said.

A gentle beep-beep from her earrings told her she only had a few minutes left before detransforming. Putting her arm around the boy, she drew her yo-yo out and secured it around a chimney across the street.

“Chat Noir and I will make sure you get back to them safe and sound, right Chat?”

But Chat didn’t answer.

Looking back over her shoulder, she saw that he hadn’t moved from his corner on the roof. Frowning, she turned to face him.

“Chat? Hey Chat! Chat Noir!”

Finally, he seemed to shake himself out of whatever stupor he’d been enveloped in. Raising his chin, he met her gaze, and the look in his eyes sent a small shiver down her spine. Ladybug could not read his expression, but she could almost feel the cold darkness rolling off him in waves. He stood to his feet and quietly padded over to join them on the edge of the roof.

The boy looked between the two of them, unsure. Ladybug felt him tighten his hold around her waist.

“You ok?” she asked Chat quietly.

The muscles in his jaw tightened, but otherwise he didn’t react to her question. With a swish of his staff, Chat launched himself down the street towards the café the boy had mentioned.

Ladybug tightened her grip on her yo-yo and leapt after him.

They alighted on the cobblestones of the square and the boy had barely released his grip on her when a shout rang from a nearby storefront.

“Peter!”

Turning around, Ladybug saw a young woman rushing towards them looking largely mortified, two young children in tow.

“Oh my goodness Peter!” She dropped to her knees to wrap her son in a tight embrace. The littlest boy had tears running down his cheeks. “Thank God you’re alright, we were so worried.”

“I’m fine,” Peter said laughing as he hugged his family back. “It was so cool, Chat Noir totally saved me from those huge vines!”

“Thank you, Ladybug and Chat Noir,” Peter’s mother said, gazing up at the pair of them and reaching her hand out to hold Ladybug’s. “Thank you, thank you! You saved him, how can I ever thank you enough?”

Ladybug smiled and squoze the woman’s hand warmly.

“There is no need, Madame. We were just happy to help.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chat Noir standing beside her. He said nothing.

Another beep-beep rang from her earrings. With a last smile at the family, she gently released the woman’s hand and left them all to continue their tearful embrace. But as she and Chat turned to leave, their path was cut off by a handful of news reporters and their cameramen.

“Ladybug! Chat Noir!” they were calling, brandishing microphones and small recording devices at them. “Please! Tell us how you saved that boy!”

“How did you manage to defeat this Akuma?”

“Any new leads on Hawkmoth?”

Startled by the sudden onslaught, Ladybug took a step back and bumped into Chat.

“I’m sorry,” she said to the reporters, her hand raising apologetically to her earrings. “We don’t really have time to – ”

“Chat Noir! Why did you freeze up?” one of the reporters demanded over her, pushing his recorder closer.

Ladybug’s polite smile dropped. She felt Chat stiffen against her shoulder.

“Are you losing your edge? Why haven’t you been able to help Ladybug during these recent attacks?” the reporter pushed on. “There’s been talk that you have even been hindering her ability to stop the Akumas. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I – I uh…” Chat finally stuttered, his voice breaking as they all began shouting similar questions. “I don’t… I can’t…”

“Do you think you’re still up to defending Paris with Ladybug?”

Ladybug glanced up at Chat to see a flash pain break through his stoic expression. Furious, she stepped forward and commanded the crowd’s attention with a shout.

“Hey! Chat Noir is as capable and reliable now as he has ever been,” she said harshly, crossing her arms over her chest. “He and I are a team. I am not better than him, we are equals and will continue to be partners in the fight against Hawkmoth until Paris is safe once and for all. So thank you, but we really must be going – ”

“Chat Noir, what makes you so worthy of standing beside Ladybug!” the reporter interrupted her loudly, pushing forward and inspiring another flood of harsh inquiries from the rest.

“Sorry, but we will answer no more questions today,” Ladybug said firmly before turning on her heel and stalking away from the crowd. Wrapping her fingers around Chat’s wrist, she pulled him with her until they both had room enough to launch their way back above the skyline.

They managed to put several blocks between themselves and the attack site before Ladybug’s earrings rang out a final time and her transformation dropped. They were forced to a halt on a rooftop, out of sight from any curious eyes down below.

Marinette gently caught Tikki in her hands before turning around.

Chat had leaned wearily against the side of a heating grate. His head was hung low, and that unreadable expression had returned to his eyes.

Tikki shot Marinette a worried look before diving into the purse that held her stash of cookies.

Hesitantly, Marinette made her way across the roof.

Chat didn’t meet her eyes.

“You know they are all wrong, right?” she said, leaning her shoulder against the wall to face him. “They have no idea what they’re talking about.”

Chat’s only response was to lift his head enough to gaze across the expanse of buildings towards the city’s horizon.

Marinette leaned forward, trying to catch his eye.

He refused to meet hers.

“You did everything you could,” she continued. “Everything worked out in the end, but… do you want to talk about it?”

“We should get you to class,” Chat said finally, straightening up and taking a step away from her, his flat voice betraying no emotion.

Marinette looked at him for another long moment.

“You know I’m here for you, whatever you need. We can figure this out togeth– ”

“There’s nothing to figure out, Marinette,” he cut over her sharply, his hands balling into tight fists.

She leaned off the wall and moved to stand close beside him again.

Once more, he refused to meet her gaze. A small frown furrowed his brow as the silence stretched on.

“C’mon,” he said finally, reaching a hand gently around her waist. “We don’t want you to be late.”

With one last thoughtful look at him, Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck.

Sweeping her feet from beneath her, Chat hoisted her up protectively to his chest. In three long strides, he launched high into the air. They soared from building to building, racing across the city back to the studio Marinette had left when news of the Akuma attack had aired.

Closing her eyes, Marinette buried her face into the crook of his neck. She breathed in his familiar warmth as the wind whipped through her hair. She could tell he was rattled about what had happened to that boy. Hell, just thinking about it made her sick to her own stomach. The image of his family embracing him kept playing across her mind; they had no idea how closed they’d come to losing him…

It only took Chat Noir a few short minutes to reach the secluded alley behind her studio. The back door was sitting ajar, held open by the rock she’d propped it with so as not to need her key-card to get back in.

“Thanks for the lift, Kitty,” she said as Chat gently placed her feet back on the ground.

The smile she offered went unnoticed as he still avoided looking directly at her. There was a stiffness in his behavior that she’d rarely seen before. Perhaps that attack had shaken him more than she’d thought.

“Erm… Will I see you tonight?”

“Probably not,” he sighed, staring off into the mouth of the alley. “I have a lot of work to get done.”

“Oh… ok then,” she said, unsure of what else to do. “I guess I do too. Mathis will probably have my head if he thinks I’m trying to skip out on him before our critique.”

Chat gazed down at his hands, balling them into fists again.

Marinette waited one more long moment before turning to climb the steps up to the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, ok?” she called over her shoulder.

“Marinette, wait…” Chat said, and as she turned back to look down at him, he took her hand in both of his. The ring on his finger felt hot against her skin.

“I… well…”

He frowned, struggling to find the right words.

She watched as he furrowed his brow tight for a long moment before he looked back up at her, his emerald eyes piercing into hers.

“I… I just wanted to say… I love you.”

Marinette gave him a soft smile and lifted his hands to gently brush her lips against his fingers.

“I love you too,” she whispered.

He held her gaze for one last moment before finally turning to go, letting her hand fall.

As she turned to kick the rock out from propping the door, she caught a last glimpse of him disappearing like a shadow over the roof’s ledge high above. Her stomach felt tight with an anxiety that she couldn’t place.

‘Probably just still shaken up from that attack,’ she decided as she hurried up the staircase to her studio.

The place was buzzing with activity when she arrived. Meesh and Alec were hard at work just as she’d left them; they both greeted her cheerily and she smiled back, doing her best to hide the confused tension that was welling up inside. Meesh’s tablet – which had been what tipped Marinette off to the Akuma in the first place – was still sitting on her desk, the newsreel now muted.

Mathis, to her displeasure, was also in her corner. He offered her a curt nod as he glanced up from the mannequin he was busy pinning fabric to.

She returned the gesture with a nod of her own.

“Did you hear about that Akuma attack?” Alec asked as Marinette sat down at her desk.

“Hmm?” she said absently, shuffling through a few sketches before landing on the one she was looking for.

“Yeah, it looks like things went a bit crazy,” Meesh said, nodding seriously. “Did you see how those giant vines were just taking over all those buildings?”

“I’d say the more interesting part of that news sequence was the interview after the attack,” Mathis said, surprising all of them with his input.

Marinette stiffened as he continued.

“I mean it’s clear that those reporters had Chat Noir cornered with their questions.”

“I think that was incredibly rude of them,” Meesh said curtly. “I mean how do they really know what went down during that attack? Or any attack for that matter?”

“It seemed pretty obvious to me,” Mathis sneered. “Chat Noir is clearly losing his nerve.”

“What do you mean ‘losing his nerve’?” Meesh shot back. “I think anyone would be caught off guard when a bunch of reporters start attacking them.”

“It’s not like he didn’t have time to prepare for it,” Alec offered. “The news has been saying stuff like that for a while, haven’t they?”

“So what, people are just going to ignore all the years of good he’s done to protect them?”

“Well, maybe all those years are finally catching up with him.”

“I don’t think it’s the years catching up with him,” Mathis cut in. “I think it’s just the fact that he’s finally showing how unevenly matched he is with Ladybug.”

“But even Ladybug herself said they were an equal team!” Meesh cried angrily.

“Oh please! The cat practically let that boy die –”

“Enough!”

Marinette slammed her sketchbook back on her desk with a loud bang, effectively shutting the other three up as they looked around at her in surprise.

“I would appreciate it,” she said in a clipped voice, “if we could all just stop talking about them like we know everything that’s happened.”

“Oh right,” Mathis said, rolling his eyes. “I forgot, you’re all buddy-buddy with the city’s supers, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Marinette turned to face him with a cold glare. “I am close enough with them to know that they always do everything in their power to keep the people of this city safe. And who cares what those news reports say? They still saved everyone from that Akuma, right?”

“Yeah, just like they always fix everything, hm?” he replied, amusement in his tone.

Marinette stared at him, the sick feeling of anxiety filling the pit of her stomach again.

Mathis simply smiled, knowing exactly which Akuma attack he’d made her think of.

“C’mon, let’s just get this work done,” she said stiffly, turning away from him and pulling over the mannequin that held her own design. She could almost feel the smugness flowing off of him, hating the sick joy he got out of reminding her of that horrible night.

Meesh and Alec both tried to catch her eye, but she resolutely ignored them, and they eventually began chatting about other things.

The four of them worked for hours. Their instructors eventually showed up for class, but it was rather informal. They had a midterm presentation the following day, so Charbonneau and a few others merely gave them some last-minute suggestions. Critiques went quickly, and they were soon left alone again with their projects.

Aside from the occasional design discussion with Mathis, Marinette managed to largely tune them all out. As her hands stitched, her mind wandered back to Adrien. She ended up sending several messages to him over the course of the evening, but he never responded. The night grew long, though the studio hardly emptied of fellow students still hard at work. It was not unusual for their class to pull all-nighters to get things done, but now that they were in their final year, the amount of time everyone spent in the studio seemed to be at an all-time high.

Unfortunately, Marinette was finding it difficult to focus. Her glances towards her phone had grown more and more frequent, but it remained stubbornly free of new messages.

“I need a break,” she said finally, standing up from her work as the tension became too suffocating.

“There’s still a lot left to do, Marinette,” Mathis said, looking up from his own garment. “I won’t have us getting a bad review just because you decided to skip out.”

“I’m not skipping out,” she shot back irritably, collecting her bag. “I’m just going to get some food, take a nap, and pick up my other dresses from home. And I don’t have a ton left to do on this one anyways, so stop worrying about the critique. I’ll be back in a couple hours, tops.”

“You’d better be,” he called after her as she shut the studio door behind her.

Marinette rolled her eyes as she hurried down the staircase. Stepping out into the chilly Autumn night, she tightened her scarf about her.

“Are you ok, Marinette?” Tikki asked, peeking out from her bag.

“I’m fine,” she shrugged. “I’m worried about Adrien. I don’t like how he was acting after that attack... I think that whole thing really got to him.”

“And those reporters didn’t help, either,” Tikki said, crossing her arms.

Marinette nodded thoughtfully.

Though it didn’t take long for her to cross campus, it was nearing two in the morning when she finally traipsed through the door of her apartment. Yawning hugely, Marinette moved to retrieve a glass from one of the kitchen cabinets and filled it up with water from the sink. Turning off the twinkle lights Alya had left on for her, she made her way across the dark living room and shut her bedroom door behind her. She kicked off her shoes and shrugged her backpack onto the ground before turning on the light.

As Tikki flew out of her bag and made her way to the tin of cookies on her bookshelf, Marinette shivered a little.

“Why is it so cold in here?” she muttered. The curtains blowing in a gentle breeze from the open window above her desk caught her eye.

‘Strange,’ she thought, moving forward to close the window. ‘I don’t remember leaving that open…’

It was then that Marinette saw it. A small, familiar black box was sitting on top of her desk.

Her heart jumped into her throat. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She knew that box; it was exactly like the ones she had delivered to her friends in times of need. She herself had opened such a box the very first day she’d met Tikki.

It was a box that held a Miraculous.

“Oh no…” Tikki gasped, hovering above Marinette’s shoulder.

Stepping forwards and reaching for the box, Marinette saw there was a piece of paper folded in half beside it. With trembling hands, she picked the paper up and unfolded it. There were only two words written within. Two words in Adrien’s handwriting that confirmed her fears.

‘I’m sorry.’

Hey hey, y'all got a chapter a whole day earlier than scheduled! I have a busy Friday planned, and I wanted to make sure this still got posted :)

Am I sorry for the cliffhanger?? HA! When have I ever been?? ;D

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