Qui Vivra Verra
Peter touched down in his own bedroom, cradling Adrien in his arms. Adrien was unconscious but feather-light due to Peter’s enhanced strength of the phoenix miraculous. His suit had been successful, and just in time. He’d managed to mix both his suits and was looking to show Adrien when he’d found him freezing on the rooftop, in his civilian clothes.
Needless to say, Peter could assume his talk with Ladybug had not gone well.
He didn’t touch down for long once in the window, instead swinging up to his bed and laying Adrien on it, releasing both his transformations.
“Is he going to be okay?” Suluu asked instantly, swooping down to inspect Adrien’s blue-tinged lips.
“I’ve got a guy on the way.” No sooner had the words left Peter’s mouth before a glowing circle opened up beside him, the portal admitting a tall man with salt and pepper hair, blue robes and a red cape. Dr. Steven Strange. He was the first doctor Peter had thought to call.
“Spiderman,” he nodded slightly at Peter before turning to face Adrien’s limp form. “What am I looking at?” He always was one to use their made-up names, a formality Peter had tried to break many times, always unsuccessfully.
“Prolonged exposure to…that.” Peter gestured out the window at the snowstorm. Dr. Strange glanced out it with a neutral expression before returning his attention to Adrien.
“Why didn’t you call me sooner?” He shoved Peter’s blankets out of the way, beginning to strip Adrien out of his wet clothes.
“I called as soon as I could!” Peter scrambled to help the doctor. “Literally as soon as I got to him!”
“Then you should’ve gotten back here faster.” Dr. Strange shot him an indecipherable look. It was a mixture of neutrality and displeasure, and Peter withered slightly under it.
“Can you help him?”
“Obviously. You wouldn’t have called me if you didn’t have total faith I could fix it.” He had a point.
Dr. Strange pulled his fists across his chest and a gold disc erupted from each fist, circling them. He carefully ran his hands down the air above Adrien’s shivering body, not touching him at any point, but Peter knew what he was doing. He was reversing the effects of the cold on Adrien’s body. One of the perks of holding the time stone, Peter figured. Sure, there were ‘normal’ ways to fix Adrien, but this was easily the fastest and most secure way.
And before Peter’s very eyes, the colour returned to Adrien’s cheeks, his hair dried, he stopped shivering as he looked more like his usual self opposed to a corpse. Dr. Strange gave Peter the closest thing to a smile Peter had ever seen him make. Satisfaction of a job well done. Not to be confused with happiness. The doctor never showed any unrestrained emotion.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“It’s been awhile since I’ve used my M.D. Always good to remember my humble doctor roots, I guess.” His tone held notes of sarcasm as he opened another glowing portal. “Tell Stark next time you see him that I do not read his emails and he should stop sending them.”
“Will do,” Peter agreed, giving the doctor a quick handshake, knowing full well he would be doing no such thing.
“What the hell?” Adrien sat up on the bed as Dr. Strange strolled into his portal, closing his passage to Paris with two extended fingers.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”
“Care to tell me why there was a strange guy in your bedroom and why I’m naked in your bed?” Adrien scrambled to grab Peter’s blankets, pulling them up over his body.
“He was one of my doctor friends and he saved your life, so you’re welcome.” Peter turned away, walking to the edge of the loft and lightly leaping down to the main floor before wandering over to close the windows. Any moment now, Adrien was going to remember what had gone down between him and Ladybug and…
“She broke up with me!” Peter heard the telltale sounds of sobs. There it is.
“I’m sorry, I really am.” Walking back up the steps, Peter detoured to his closet to grab some more clothes for Adrien, throwing them at the crying boy on his bed. “I tried talking to her but she didn’t listen to me anymore than she listened to you, apparently.”
“She said-she said she would be a disappointment to me!” Adrien rocked forwards, gripping Peter’s blanket to his face, soaking it with tears, ignoring the clothes Peter continued to move closer to him, hoping he would get the hint. “Peter, I love her!”
“I know you do. Please put some clothes on then we can talk about this properly.” Peter hated being the voice of reason but someone had to do it, and a hysterical Adrien was the furthest thing from coherent at that point.
Adrien let out a shuddering sigh before pulling on the clothes Peter had placed on the bed, breaths hiccuping between sniffles. His face was already streaked and red from tears. Once he was dressed, Peter sat beside him in the bed, eyes searching Adrien’s face. His best friend looked absolutely destroyed. Peter had never experienced romantic heartbreak and given his friend’s shattered demeanour, he didn’t ever want to.
The blond recounted the details of his breakup, occasionally dissolving into tears and drowning the remainder of his sentences. But eventually he managed to get it all out, albeit a bit fuzzy after Ladybug left.
“What did I do wrong?” Adrien looked at Peter with shiny eyes, the next bout of tears barely contained along his lash line.
“Sometimes you can do everything right and still things won’t go the way you want them to. I don’t think you did anything wrong, Adri. Sometimes we let our emotions get the best of us and I think Ladybug was just in shock. What she did was dumb but I think you gave her quite the surprise.”
“Do you think she still likes me?”
Peter chewed the inside of his cheek trying to think of how to respond. He was fairly certain Marinette was just as infatuated with Adrien/Chat as she had been the day he’d met her, but she had an odd way of reacting, almost like she refused to validate her own emotions. She was afraid, he knew that, and he understood it. But he didn’t know how to make Adrien understand too.
“I think so, but it’s probably best we give her the space she wants for now. It’s hard, I know, but sometimes you’ve got to let them go. Just let her go and hope she makes her way back to you.”
The look in Adrien’s eyes made Peter want to tell him everything right there and then, including Ladybug’s identity, but Peter held back, stuffed that desire right back where it came from. Still, he was finding it difficult not to get mad at Ladybug when he saw the effect she had on his friend. She’d met Adrien when his heart was already cracked and fragile, and her precise, calculated hit had shattered it entirely. Peter so desperately wanted to pick up the tiny shards and make Adrien whole once more, but he couldn’t. Some things he simply couldn’t fix, as much as he wanted to.
Seeing his friend in this state was effecting Peter too. When he’d seen Adrien on the rooftop, he’d thought he was dead. He’d thought that once again he’d failed to save someone who meant the world to him. He’d been so shocked he hadn’t even managed to produce his healing tears, nor sing the phoenix song, despite the fact it would’ve healed Adrien on the spot. It was a good thing Dr. Strange had been available, and Peter didn’t want to think what would have happened to Adrien if the universe hadn’t aligned to bring him home safe.
Peter’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was Marinette. Something burned in the back of his throat and he sent her to voicemail without remorse.
“It’s late, you need to get some sleep,” Peter said softly, gently pushing Adrien so he lay back in the massive bed.
“What about you?” Adrien’s hand whipped out, gripping Peter around the wrist as he stood to leave. He was still crying, and Peter didn’t think he would stop.
“I’m going to go sleep in your room. I don’t want you padding through the halls looking like that. Nathalie will get suspicious but she’ll be even more suspicious if your bed isn’t slept in.”
“You’re not going to stay?”
“I can’t stay, Adrien. But I can promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Peter carefully slipped out of his room and into Adrien’s, crawling into the boy’s bed before bringing the covers up to cover his brown hair and anything that would give him away as Peter in the low light.
He could still hear Adrien crying, but he wasn’t sure if Adrien was just that loud or if it was because of his enhanced senses.
“What are you going to do?” Suluu whispered, laying down on the pillow. Peter rolled over to face her, giving her a dejected look.
“My best. I can’t exactly go in and make it all better, now can I?” He tried, he really did, not to let his bitter tone slip through but it was too late. Peter hated feeling helpless, he really did, and he’d never felt more helpless than sitting there and listening to his friend cry.
“Peter, you know that their identities are something they have to work out themselves.”
“I know.” Peter rocked over onto his back, folding his hands over his stomach and staring up at the ceiling. “I just thought they’d be ready. I thought this would be the easy part. But now Ladybug’s being stupid and Chat Noir is crying himself silly and after he’s done that, he’ll close himself off and become numb. That’ll be hard for everyone.”
“You know they’ll never be ready, not really. No matter what you say, in the end they’re both scared of what they already know.”
“I do know that, actually. Awful inconvenient, isn’t it? Deep down, they know everything already but they choose to be blind. Ignorant.”
“Why would someone choose to be ignorant?” Suluu scoffed.
“They’re not like us. You see what the truth has done to them. Sheltered is safe, and their anonymity has kept them sheltered for years now. It is better to prevent than to than to heal but I could not prevent this.”
“No one could,” Suluu scoffed. “It’s not your fault they’re stupid.”
“I have no idea what will happen next,” Peter admitted. “Ladybug’s…reaction has completely derailed my plans.”
“Ah, well, you know what they say,” Suluu sighed, her glowing form dimming like Peter’s very own portable mood light. “Qui vivra verra.”
Peter let out a hollow sigh, squirming under his blankets to get comfy. “Qui vivra verra, indeed.”
Marinette made it home through a blur of tears, landing on her bed and immediately collapsing as her magic left her. Tikki popped out of her earrings and fixed her with a sympathetic expression but didn’t say anything, leaving room for Marinette to speak first.
“Adrien is Chat Noir,” she said slowly. Now that she was back home and secure, the realization was beginning to hit in full. Marinette lay back, her eyes falling on the photo of Adrien she had taped above her bed. Even here she couldn’t escape him.
Her mind replayed the way his green eyes had filled with tears, only this time it was Adrien’s eyes, not Chat’s. Adrien’s hands that held the rose. Adrien who tried to put his arm around her. Adrien, Adrien, Adrien.
It had been him all along. Her secret boyfriend, her partner in saving the world, her best friend. Adrien Agreste.
It was Adrien Agreste who she’d turned down for years only to pine over in her civilian clothes. It was Adrien Agreste who she’d kissed all those times. It was Adrien Agreste who, only the night before, she’d – no, she didn’t want to think about it. But that didn’t change the fact that it had very much happened.
“Is it not what you wanted?” Spiderman’s words echoed back at her, and Marinette choked back another sob. Everything should’ve made sense now; Adrien was Chat. The two boys she loved the most in the world were one. She should’ve been elated.
But any potential elation was robbed by the fact that she knew with certainty that Adrien didn’t love her, not really, and he’d turn his back on her once he realized just how much of a fucking disaster Marinette was.
All that was made so much harder by the fact that Marinette loved him beyond words. She’d loved Adrien and then she’d loved Chat and now she could love Adrien and Chat together as one. But she could never tell him that.
“I’m sorry, Marinette,” Tikki said, her antennae drooping slightly.
“You knew, didn’t you?” Marinette said softly. “Why am I always the last to know? You know, Spiderman knows, Peter….” She paused. Did Peter know?
Then she remembered Peter and Chat Noir’s dual appearance in the bakery, the one that seemed ages ago but was only that morning. Of course Peter knew. Him and Adrien were inseparable in every sense of the word.
“I couldn’t tell you, it’s against the kwami code, but I wish there was some way I could’ve softened the blow. I’m sorry.” Tikki hovered dejectedly in midair.
“It’s not your fault at all, Tikki,” Marinette said, scooping the kwami up in her hands. “I just can’t believe I could be so blind and so foolish to think that Chat Noir actually loved me.”
“He does, you know.”
“Huh?” Marinette shifted Tikki into one hand and moved to take down her Adrien photos. It just felt creepy and wrong now.
“He loves you. Even if you can’t see it or don’t want to right now.” She swooped out of Marinette’s hand and phased through the floor, probably off in search of some cookies, leaving Marinette with her thoughts.
Tears pricked her eyes once more, although she wasn’t sure what she was sad about now. Maybe her tears didn’t always have to be sad. Confusion, betrayal, and loneliness were all she felt as she clambered out of her bed, ripping every last Adrien photo off the walls that surrounded her. The ones by her desk joined their predecessors in the trash can as Marinette cleansed her room of Adrien. She changed her phone’s wallpaper, her computer’s background, and her mindset before she allowed herself to climb back in bed.
Her and Chat Noir were broken up now, and it was for the better, she rationalized. But if that was true, why did she miss him so much?
She wanted to call Peter, to ask him if Adrien was alright, regardless of how that might compromise her identity. In fact, she pressed call before she’d even thought of the implications of her actions.
Peter didn’t pick up.
He sent her straight to voicemail.
Marinette awoke before her alarm, despite the fact she’d barely slept that night. Constantly tossing and turning, she’d beat her pillows into submission, kicking her blankets on and off when her body couldn’t decide if it was too hot or too cold. Everything was fuzzy and dark and she felt dreadful.
Needless to say, when Marinette looked in the mirror, her own disheveled hair and puffy red eyes stared back. Her head was already pounding. A cold shower did little to fix the mess and she wrestled with herself internally. Did she leave her hair down and hope it would cover her eyes even though it was a mess, or did she put it in a bun and display her post-cry eyes to the whole world?
It was decided for her when she realized the hickies Chat had left on her had yet to fade and she resigned herself to leaving her hair down. Her whole demeanour was that of resignation, the day already written off.
As much as she didn’t want to go and see Adrien, Marinette dragged herself to school, through the snow and all. Turns out she needn’t have worried, however, as Adrien wasn’t in class. Or maybe that was something more to worry about. Marinette barely glanced at Alya as she slid into her seat and set her head on the desk, staring blankly ahead.
“Where’s Adrien?” Her ears perked up at the question Nino directed at Peter. Was it just her imagination, or did Peter’s eyes flicker towards her? She couldn’t tell, but she slid forwards slightly to hear his response.
“He was here, but he had to go to the nurse,” Peter said, tone icy. He knew the truth, Marinette was sure of it. Adrien must’ve told him everything about the breakup and it seemed Peter was just as protective as he was supportive. The knowledge that someone had made Adrien sad was obviously eating at him, and he seemed to be extra full of restless energy. “Sick or something.”
His fingers were drumming a pattern into the table with a little more force than Marinette thought necessary. The uncharacteristically cold gaze he fixed Nino with sent tiny tremors down Marinette’s spine. She’d never thought of Peter as scary in his civilian form before and she still didn’t, but she could see the glint of his anklet as his foot joined in the incessant tapping. A reminder.
“Are you okay?” Alya leaned down to Marinette’s level, whispering to her. Marinette couldn’t bring herself to lie, so she shrugged instead.
“Didn’t sleep well.” That, at least, wasn’t a lie.
“Since Adrien isn’t here, do you want to hang out with us at lunch?” Alya offered Peter, who shook his head.
“I’ve got plans with Chloé. Thanks, though.”
This time his eyes definitely flickered towards Marinette. What the hell? She thought, pushing her bag in front of her face to discourage prying gaze. She was probably reading too much into it. He didn’t know, and he couldn’t know. This was just Peter, always observant, always observing.
“Everyone’s so depressed today,” Alya sighed. “Did I not get some sort of memo?”
“I’m not depressed, I’m pissed off.” Peter’s tone turned biting. “Felix keeps fucking calling me at all hours of the day and night and I’m literally this close to simply smiting him off the face of the earth.”
“Dude, I think that’s called murder,” Nino chimed in. Marinette’s eyelids had suddenly grown heavy and she wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep right then and there. But she wasn’t going to, because she was a good student and she’d come to school to learn. It was bad enough she’d let a boy disrupt her sleep schedule, she wasn’t going to let him disrupt her learning too.
“I know people who could bail me out,” Peter said in a way that sounded like it was supposed to be joking but came across serious. Or maybe he was serious. Marinette couldn’t tell because at that moment she drifted off to sleep.
Adrien was in class after lunch. He looked worse than Marinette had ever seen him and it made her heart twang painfully. His green eyes were rimmed with red and sparkling with recent tears, his skin pale and devoid of its usual golden tinge. She’d always imagined him as the sun personified but now he looked more like the moon. Weak and recluse and waning away before her very eyes. He was dressed in the jacket she’d made him for her birthday and although he couldn’t have known, it was like an extra punch to her gut.
Peter whispered to him in English and although she knew she couldn’t understand it, Marinette strained to listen in. The only word she caught was ‘okay’.
Adrien looked so horrible that Mme. Bustier approached him before classes started back up. Marinette could hear everything she said with alarming clarity, even though she didn’t want to eavesdrop this time.
“Are you alright, Adrien? You don’t look too good.”
“My father said I had to be here.” Adrien’s tone held a sort of detachment that Marinette had only ever heard him use as Chat, and only when something was really bugging him. Marinette never thought she’d be the cause of that tone. “My mark in math isn’t as good as he wants it to be.”
Mme. Bustier bent down closer to him, her eyes swimming with sympathy. “Adrien, your math mark is one of the best in the class.”
“It’s not as good as he wants it.” Adrien glanced away, fiddling with the ring he always wore. His miraculous. Marinette ignored the thought. She’d ignored all the signs before, she could continue to ignore them now.
“We have a test today, but I’m not going to make you write it. I’ll give you full marks, you just put your head down or whatever you need to do. I know if you write it right now it won’t be reflective of what you could do. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”
Marinette stood up sharply, shooting her hand up into the air. She needed out. “Can I go to the bathroom?”
Madame Bustier looked up at her, then nodded. Marinette didn’t wait a second before sprinting out of the room.
The second she was in the bathroom, Marinette barricaded herself into the washroom, sliding down the door to the (probably disgusting) floor. Tikki popped out of her purse, inspecting Marinette’s face carefully.
“Are you okay?” Tikki asked.
“What have I done?” Marinette couldn’t seem to lift her head from where she was staring at her feet. “You saw him, Tikki. What did I do to him?”
“Do you regret breaking up with him?”
“Of course I do, but it was better this way.”
“How so?”
“What?” Marinette swallowed with difficulty. “I couldn’t keep lying to him, Tikki! I love him and he deserves someone who is as amazing as he is and who’s going to be as open as he wants them to be. And I can’t be the girl I am in his head and that scares me. It scares me more than the Papillon, scares me more than everything I’ve ever done and ever will have to do. It scares me that I want to be open and honest with him but I’m not ready. I just can’t. And now I can’t take it back.”
“Mari?” A male voice called out into the bathroom and she stiffened, gasping slightly. Her gasp didn’t go unnoticed by the person on the other side of the door, however, and a moment later Adrien was knocking lightly on the door.
“Adrien?” She said softly, his name tumbling out through her lips before she could stop herself.
“I couldn’t help but notice you seemed a bit…out of sorts.” She could hear him slide to the ground on the other side of the door and she turned, pressing her body against the door like she could mould through and fall into his arms. Just like she’d done hundreds of times, only now there was the wall between them, the one he’d worked so hard to break down only for her to put it right back up.
“I could say the same for you,” she said, doing her best to keep her tone light. “I mean, I think I’m doing better, seeing as I’m not the boy currently in the girls’ bathroom.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Adrien let out a choppy sigh she figured was the closest he could manage to a laugh. “You don’t have to talk to me or whatever, but I’ve heard that misery loves company.”
Marinette was silent for a moment, wondering how much she was prepared to give away. “There’s this boy.”
“Isn’t there always?” Adrien’s breathing was ragged, almost choked. He must’ve been dying inside, but he’d still come to check on her. Marinette wanted to cry, and she might have, had her body not run out of tears long ago.
“What about you?” She managed.
“There’s a girl.” He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t have to. Marinette knew the story.
“I messed it up,” Marinette said, only to hear Adrien say the same thing at the same time on the other side of the door.
“No, you didn’t,” she rushed, dragging a hand through her hair.
“No, I did.” Adrien said. “I came on way too strong and she wasn’t ready for who I am. I completely, for lack of a less vulgar term, fucked it up. But I bet you were better than me.”
“I messed it up worse.” Marinette drew up her knees. “I wasn’t ready and I didn’t know how to tell him that. I was worried that he’d realize that I’m a disaster and not the person he thought I was. I tried so hard to be perfect around him but I can’t be perfect all the time. I can’t be perfect at all.”
“Nah, your disastrous qualities are what make you charming,” Adrien said and Marinette smiled for the first time in the last twelve hours.
“Trust me, Adrien. You don’t know the half of it.” Actually he did know the half of it, just not her half. She’d made sure of that. They fell into a comfortable, sad silence for a moment and Marinette allowed her eyes to flutter shut.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Her brain attached the voice that cut through the silence to Chat’s smiling face before it retrieved Adrien’s, a fact that tugged at the corner of her lips.
“Anytime,” she replied.
“I was in love with her. Still am. I just wish there was a way to let her know that I’ll always love her no matter who she is. She said she needed time away from me, and I have to respect that. But I think I kinda had the opposite problem of you. I think I made her feel like she had to be perfect or whatever just to be good enough for me, but that’s not it at all. She could never not be perfect to me. No matter what she does. She doesn’t need to try.”
“Adrien, I’m so sorry.” Marinette hung her head at his confessions, guilt cutting through her. “This is all my fault.” She could make it better right now, there was nothing stopping her. She could tell him and get it over with so they could work towards patching things up.
“What? No!” Adrien laughed. “It’s not your fault at all, Mari, you have absolutely nothing to do with it.”
“No, I mean-” the rest of her sentence, and possibly her confession, was cut off by an alert going off on her phone. An akuma. She heard the same alert go off on Adrien’s phone and the sound of him standing.
“Sorry, I have to go.”
He was gone by the time she opened the stall door.
She suited up, ducking out a window, thoroughly unenthusiastic about seeing Chat. Technically, she’d just seen him, but he hadn’t known who he was talking to. This would be different.
Chat was already on the scene when she arrived, but Spiderman was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t spare her so much as a glance when she landed beside him. There was still a tear glittering on his cheek, but other than that his face was just as much of a mask as the black fabric he wore around his eyes.
“It’s the giant baby again,” he said curtly, gripping his staff tightly. “Shouldn’t take too long.”
A car hurled itself past Ladybug’s head and she ducked instinctively, eyes narrowing in on the giant purple and green clothed baby who was currently making its way towards a bridge. They’d had to deal with him twice before, and both times he’d managed an impressive amount of destruction.
The duo chased after the baby, but after a few minutes it became apparent that the silent treatment they were giving one another was not going to help.
Marinette opened her mouth, prepared to say something most likely in poor taste, when a streak of red and blue shot past them. Spiderman had finally joined them and he wasted no time in attaching the baby’s hands to houses on either side of the street before wrapping its legs up to prevent movement. It was a series of practiced movements after that; Chat’s cataclysm, her own lucky charm, purifying the akuma, restoring Paris to its prior state.
They all participated in a quick fist-bump (Alya was waiting nearby with a camera), all while Spidey and Chat remained uncharacteristically quiet. Chat left first to return the baby to its mother, and Marinette followed Spidey over a few blocks until he paused above a rooftop, not continuing but not landing either.
She dropped down, looking up at him and managed a slanted smile. “Good timing.”
His blank eyes stared at her. “You’re so fucking lucky I’m friends with a master of the mystic arts.”
“What?”
“I found him in the snow. It was almost too late. Not saying that was entirely your fault, but whether you’re a couple or not, we have to look out for each other. Chat has his own issues going on, you must realize, and whether you hate him right now or whatever, you guys were friends first. You can be friends again.”
“I think I messed it up,” Marinette confessed, ignoring the chirp of her miraculous, “but I also think I can fix it.”
“Well don’t do anything about that until you’re sure. No playing with Chat’s emotions.” Spiderman’s suit’s expression hadn’t changed, but now it felt like he was studying her, deciding whether she was to be trusted. She had the most peculiar feeling of being on trial for a crime she didn’t commit.
“I never-”
“I gotta go.” Spiderman cut her off. “My manager just saw me on the news and he’s calling me now. I can’t ignore him. Until later, Ladybug.”
By the time she’d returned to the school, a text was sitting on her phone.
[ patrols cancelled until further notice ]
She could feel Spidey’s disappointment through the screen.
Adrien was sitting in his spot when she returned. As she passed, he swiped at his cheeks, wiping away tears she wasn’t meant to see.
Needless to say, by the end of the day, Marinette was more than ready to go home and have a good cry. And so she traipsed her way home, barely listening to her mother’s account of the day’s akuma attack as she passed through the bakery.
“Wow. That’s insane,” she said vacantly. “I’ve got a lot of homework I should get started on.”
“Take some cookies with you. They’ll help you focus.” Her mother slipped her a box and Marinette gave her a half-hearted smile.
“Thanks mama.”
Her mother had neglected to mention, probably due to the fact she was entirely unaware, that Marinette had a visitor. Chat Noir was perched on the railing of her loft, sporting his usual grin, although it didn’t quite reach his distant eyes.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Marinette yelped, nearly slamming her trapdoor down on her head.
“Sorry, Princess.” He leapt nimbly to the main level, lifting up the door and helping Marinette up. She ignored the blush that crawled up her neck, instead walking around to her desk and placing the box of cookies down.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” She asked, doing her best to avoid his gaze.
“I thought we could hang out,” he suggested. That brought her eyes up to meet his. The mischievous glint that usually sparkled in his eyes was gone, and Marinette realized this wasn’t so much about her. Like he’d said before, misery loves company. And he probably thought she could use a friend just as much as he needed one.
“Depends on what you have in mind,” she smirked at him, doing her best to play a part, pretend that the sight of him wasn’t making her heart weep.
“Well, I was thinking of starting with a question. What happened to all the photos of that handsome model you had hanging up in here before?”
You little fucker. Marinette couldn’t stop this blush, as it flushed her whole face out. She was probably looking more like a stop sign than a human girl at this point. This was Adrien being a little narcissist and mocking her at the same time. She didn’t think she could even handle it. He’d known about the photos all along. How embarrassing.
Chat laughed at her expression and angry sputtering, dancing over to the trash can. “Now what’s he doing in here? Did you two have a fight or something? Did he wear an ugly outfit that disowned him from the fashion community?”
“Shut up.” She crossed her arms over her chest, fixing him with a determinedly neutral look. Marinette was finding it easier not to pity him by the minute.
“No, please, I’m all ears.” His cat ears swivelled slightly to accentuate his point. “Tell me what Mr. Agreste did to get in your bad books.”
“Isn’t a girl allowed to change her taste in décor?”
“He seems to be the only thing that changed.”
“Chat Noir, shut up before I kick you out myself.” She spun away from him, marching towards her chaise lounge. In a blink of an eye, he was sitting on it, looking up at her with those candy apple eyes, the mischievous glint returning.
“Please, I’d like to see you try, Princess.” He winked. Marinette pushed his shoulder.
It was meant to be a playful shove, but he anticipated her move and dipped backwards on the lounge, causing Marinette to lose her balance and fall right on top of him. She narrowly avoided intimately acquainting her eyeball with his bell, instead landing on his chest. For a moment, neither of them moved, simply too stunned. And quiet honestly, Marinette didn’t want to. She was entirely prepared to ignore that this was Adrien and instead just lay down and go to sleep, but then the worst possible thing happened.
Her mother poked her head up through the trapdoor.
Marinette felt Chat go completely rigid below her, as though if he didn’t move, her mom couldn’t see him. But it was too late. Her mother had seen them in their rather, ahem, suggestive position of Chat laying back on the chaise, Marinette pressed up against him with one knee on each side of his body.
Unfortunately, her mom recovered from her initial shock faster than Marinette would’ve liked her to. Preferably, Marinette would’ve liked time to remain stopped for the rest of eternity. “I think we should all have a talk downstairs.”
A few awkward, scuffling, moments later, Marinette, Chat, and Madame Cheng were all seated in the living room. Marinette was just glad her dad wasn’t involved. Yet.
“Anyone care to provide an explanation for what was going on up there?” Her mom said, fixing the two with a stern stare. Marinette glanced at Chat, but his face was red as a tomato and he seemed incapable of speech, a look that surely mirrored Marinette’s own.
“I tripped and, uh, landed on Mr. Chat Noir,” Marinette coughed out, looking anywhere but her mother and the boy sitting next to her.
“I’m more confused as to why Chat Noir was in your room in the first place.”
Good question, Marinette thought, remaining deliberately silent and still to let Chat know she expected him to answer that question.
“Your daughter and I are…friends. I thought I would stop by and hang out? I swear, we weren’t…doing anything…unsavoury.” Chat choked the words out, making the truth, the literaltruth, sound like a lie. Marinette groaned and smacked her forehead. Unsavoury? Who says that?
“Do you two…hang out…often?” Her mother pressed.
“No, not that much.”
“Mama, this is ridiculous. Chat is dating Ladybug.”
“Actually, we broke up,” Chat said, tone losing its floundering feeling and returning to that of sadness. Wrong thing to say, Marinette.
And yet, she opened her mouth again. “Are you sure?” She blurted before she was even aware of what she was saying. She’d meant to make it sound like she hadn’t known, but instead she just sounded insensitive.
“Very sure.” Chat met her gaze, frowning. “That’s why I was here. I could’ve used a friend right now.”
“I’m sorry.” Her mom’s gaze softened. “If you two keep it down here, I have no problem with you being here, Chat Noir. I’m very sorry to hear about Ladybug.”
“You know those days where you’re like, ‘this might as well happen’? That’s my whole life,” Chat said with a hollow laugh.
“You’re welcome here anytime,” Madame Cheng said, giving the pair a smile before heading back out. “As long as you use the front door.”
“Well, that was….” Marinette said.
“Embarrassing?” Chat offered.
“I was going to go with ‘awkward’, but that works too. If you’re going to drop in in the future, keep coming in through my skylight, though. I don’t want them to get…ideas.”
“Ideas?” Chat folded his hands under his chin, raising one masked eyebrow as he watched her. Good to know he’d recovered enough to regain his usual flirtatious attitude.
“The usual, you know, young men with questionable intentions coming to hang out in my room all the time.”
“You point out those men with questionable intentions and I’ll make sure they never bother you again, cat’s honour.”
“It’s mainly just you, if we’re being honest.” She walked over to the kitchen area, grabbing two oranges, one which she tossed to Chat and the other which she kept for herself, leaning against the counter to peel it instead of rejoining him on the couch.
“Me? Questionable intentions? Never.” He placed a dramatic hand over his heart before slicing through his orange with his claws. “I’ll have you know, Princess, that I am a man of pure intentions and pure intentions only. I don’t even know what sex is!”
She gave him a look. “Who said anything about sex? I was talking about you using me to fuel your pastry addiction.”
He recovered quickly. “No one, like I said, I don’t know what that word means. Could be anything. I know nothing about that subject, and that is my final ruling.” Puffing his chest up, he threw a piece of orange into his mouth.
“Did you want to talk about the breakup?” Marinette really, really, really didn’t want Chat to put her through an unintentional guilt trip again, but the least she could do was help him through his hurt after she’d been the one to cause it.
“A lovely offer, but I should actually be going. Spiderman needs help with one of his science projects and I promised I’d be the test subject.” He grinned at the prospect, like he’d just said that Spiderman was going to paint his nails, not use him as a guinea pig.
“Don’t die or anything,” Marinette frowned, but Chat seemed unfazed.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. That would be most unbecoming, plus Spiderman says I’m not allowed to do that anymore. Bye bye!”
She watched him climb out her window and disappear off into the sky, a smile playing at her lips as she did so.
“Seems like he’s taken everything rather well,” Tikki observed, popping out of Marinette’s purse.
“Or he’s just burying deep down like he does with everything else,” Marinette countered. “Let’s just hope Spiderman manages to do his spidey therapy on him.”
“Doesn’t he always?” Tikki lilted.
“Spiderman’s mad at me too. Or disappointed. I’m not sure which is worse. I’m not used to seeing that look on his face. It’s like disappointing my entire family all wrapped into one.”
“What look? You can’t see anything beyond his mask.”
“No, but you can kind of tell. The sheer impassivity and his lack of words tells me everything I need to know.” She sighed, flopping down on the couch. “Sometimes I wonder what it must be like to be him. He talks like he’s so much older than he actually is.”
“Old soul,” Tikki agreed.
“He reminds me of you,” Marinette said, glancing at the tiny red god. “There’s no possible way that Spiderman could be a kwami, could he?”
Tikki frowned. “If he were a kwami, I’d be able to tell. That’s a human boy, for sure.”
“Rats. That was the last explanation I had for him.” Marinette crossed her arms and sunk further into the upholstery.
“Somethings can’t be explained. However, Spiderman isn’t one of those. I’m sure you’ll get your explanation someday.”
“For now, I just want to be distracted,” Marinette decided. “Maybe I should finish that Chat drawing.”
Tikki shot her a knowing look but mercifully said nothing.
He’d put on a brave face for Marinette. That was really all Adrien needed to do. It had been good to see her too, despite her mom’s interruption. She’d taken his mind off things for a short time, and now Peter promised to continue that. He’d meant to coax her into talking through her own problems, but the mood had clearly been ruined after being dragged downstairs. It was a good thing that Madame Cheng was the understanding sort.
“What are we doing here?” Adrien glanced around the firing range, slightly nervous. Peter, who was signing various waivers at the front desk, glanced at him.
“Conducting an experiment, like I said.”
The place was empty except Peter, Adrien, and the woman behind the counter who took Peter’s signed papers and passed him two pairs of earmuffs. Peter slung one around his neck and passed the other pair to Adrien, who took them gingerly. It wasn’t surprising they were the only two there; they’d had to traipse through heavy snow to reach the place, as the roads were a nightmare and neither of them had felt like suiting up.
“This way,” she said, leading them into the back. Twelve lanes with targets of varying shape and distance made up the majority of the back. “This is the control room. I’ll let you get whatever gear you need, and I’ll be up front if you need anything.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be here with us?” Adrien asked.
“Why?” The lady glanced at Peter. “He’s perfectly licensed to carry a firearm. I don’t need to be back here.”
“Oh.” Adrien nodded, watching as Peter grabbed a semi-automatic and a few magazines, loading the gun with practiced ease Adrien didn’t know he possessed. “Sounds great.”
The woman disappeared back out to the front and Adrien whirled on Peter. “You have a firearms license?”
“I didn’t actually know I did until she told me. Apparently Mr. Stark put one on file for me. Nice of him, isn’t it?”
“But do you know how to operate one?” Adrien followed Peter out of the control room and into one of the lanes, keeping a distrustful gaze on the gun.
“Yes.” Peter didn’t elaborate. “I’m going to get a few shots out of the way to make sure my aim is still good, then we’ll get to the actual experiment. Earmuffs on.”
Adrien gulped, looking out at the black circular target as Peter lined his shot up, releasing the safety with a click Adrien could hear despite the ear protection. And, as unflappable as always with hands as steady as a heart surgeon’s, Peter fired the gun. Straight through the bullseye.
He released the entirety of the magazine, his hand stable as he riddled the target with holes, firing a smiley face into the paper. Pirouetting, he gave Adrien a smug smile and pulled his earmuffs off. Adrien followed in suit, minus the pirouette.
“Terrifying,” Adrien admitted. “What’s the experiment, now that you’ve proven your aim to be exceptional.”
“You’re not going to like it, but in case I actually wind up hurting myself I need you here.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Remember how I wanted to know if our suits are bulletproof? Well, given that I’ve got super healing, I decided I would try shooting myself in the foot to see what happens.”
“You’re going to what now?!”
“Suluu,” Peter called and Suluu came flying out his pocket, giving Adrien a wink.
“You can’t seriously approve of this,” Adrien said.
“I think it would be really fucking funny if Peter shoots off his foot,” Suluu chirped.
“And I think it’d be really fucking funny if you shut up,” Peter sassed right back. “Transform me!”
With a column of fire, Peter disappeared and Helios appeared, twirling the gun around his finger. Adrien sidestepped warily.
“It’s not even loaded, relax,” Peter said, before promptly reloading with a metallic krchtnk.
“Now it is.”
“Ready?” Peter, surprisingly calm despite the fact he could be putting a bullet through his foot in the next minute, raised the gun and pointed it at the aforementioned appendage. “Earmuffs on and stand back.”
Adrien complied, watching Peter squeeze the trigger, unflinching, and fire the gun. The bullet pinged off his foot, the casing ricocheting off his forehead, and dropped to the ground, where Peter kicked it into the lane.
“So, no ouchie?” Adrien inspected his foot, cautiously removing his headgear. It looked fine.
“I guess not.” Peter frowned, looking disappointed. “Not to be weird, but I think it would’ve been really cool if I’d actually shot myself in the foot. Like, that would be a cool story.”
“Does your super strength and healing just make stuff…not hurt?”
“It still hurts like a bitch, I’m just better at enduring it, if that makes sense.”
“Sure.” Adrien looked on as Peter released his transformation and fixed a glare on Suluu as she rose up into the air once more.
“I didn’t shoot myself in the foot, so ha.”
“Lame.” Suluu stuck her tongue out. “I mean, it’s not too late. You can still shoot yourself right here, right now.”
“Thank you, Miss Bird God, but that actually doesn’t sound all that fun. There’s no science behind it in the slightest. Just pain.”
“Life is pain,” Adrien bemoaned, suddenly remembering his breakup. His attention span was short, and the second Peter was distracted by someone else, his mind went wandering once again.
“Another thing I’m right about. I said that Ladybug was going to learn Adrien’s identity first and you told me not to wish for drama for the sake of drama, but I was right and now you’ve got to expand my Law and Order watching time.” Suluu brayed happily, doing loop-de-loops in the air, her attitude the complete polar opposite of Adrien’s.
“I’m not letting you watch more Law and Order. I don’t like how argumentative it’s making you. Adrien’s just suffered an emotional blow, how about we treat him with some empathy.” Peter snatched Suluu up, mid loop, looking her dead in the eye. “Got it?”
“My condolences for your tragic loss, cat boy,” Suluu said, sounding like the textbook definition of insincere, eyes glittering with barely restrained glee.
“We’ll work on the empathy bit,” Peter decided, stuffing Suluu into his pocket forcefully and looking at Adrien. “For now, we’re done here. I don’t really trust you around weapons right now.”
“That’s probably valid, although I don’t want to touch that thing in the slightest,” Adrien said, giving the gun a look of disgust like it had personally offended him by existing.
“I don’t blame you.” Peter returned the equipment, leading him out of the building. “Fighting with guns and stuff isn’t really a passion of mine either. They tend to be far more fatal than I’d like. Unfortunately, being the apprentice of a former weapons manufacturer, this stuff is kind of part of the scene. You can’t fear it.”
“I don’t fear it,” Adrien said defensively, his voicing pitching upwards slightly. “It’s just not my vibe entirely.”
“Let’s head back home,” Peter said, waving down a taxi that had managed to make its way through the slush that covered the roads. “I, for one, could use a Parker homemade meal.”
A ‘Parker homemade meal’ turned out to be less of a meal and more of an experience, and it was an experience Adrien could have lived without. Peter decided to make salsa, and insisted that lighting the pan on fire (something he’d done entirely on accident) was a part of the process to make it ‘spicy’. Adrien didn’t even think he was supposed to be adding heat to the vegetables, but Peter insisted he knew what he was doing, even as he struggled to put out the fire.
Suluu flew around his head like a tiny halo, yelling instructions that only seemed to confuse Peter.
“Now add a slice of lemon!”
“Why would I do that?” Peter tossed the lemon she brought over back out of her reach, perfectly pitching it into the fruit basket despite his general disregard for spacial awareness.
“Because it’s perfect for salsa recipes!”
“I’m not putting a damn lemon in my salsa,” Peter grumbled and continued his ministrations while Adrien prepared corn chips at his direction.
“Hey Adrien, I think those chips could use some lemon!” Suluu suggested.
“I think they need some cheese.” Plagg chose that moment to pop in, shooting up and out of Adrien’s jean pocket.
“If you know what you’re doing so much, you guys can make your own salsa and chips for all I care,” Peter said, flicking a tomato chunk at Suluu, sounding every bit like a dad reprimanding his child. His tiny, glowing, godchild.
“I can’t do that, I can’t cut anything and you said I wasn’t allowed to turn human anymore.”
“Sorry.” Adrien paused. “You can turn into a human?” This was news to him.
“Shape shifting is one of my capabilities, yes,” Suluu giggled. “Peter doesn’t like it when I do it, though. Gets him in trouble with Nathalie.”
“You can show Adrien,” Peter said with a distracted gesture of the knife he was using to cut up cilantro. “I would really like to see his brain get fried.”
Suluu smiled at Adrien, winked at Plagg, then closed her eyes. A small fire encircled her, and as it cleared it revealed a girl, godlike in her perfection. Her eyes burned, much like Helios’s did, before they faded to an intelligent grey as she watched for his reaction. Adrien’s breath had caught in his throat. Really, he had no business thirsting over a bird god, but it was difficult when she was right there and probably the most beautiful person (besides Ladybug) that he’d ever set his eyes on. Like looking at a dancing flame, she was mesmerizing in every sense of the word, so bright and beautiful it was difficult to believe she existed.
“Glad to see you included clothes for yourself this time around,” Peter muttered, eyes darting to Suluu before returning to his work.
“This body is a work of art, I shouldn’t have to,” Suluu complained. Peter used the term ‘clothes’ rather loosely, it seemed, as Suluu was wearing brown cargo pants, a black bralette, and a white mesh blouse that displayed an impressive pair of abs and actually covered very little. Adrien idly wondered what Plagg would look like, were he able to turn human. Most likely a lot less stunning, that’s for sure. In fact, Adrien was almost convinced that Plagg would make himself look a mess on purpose.
“You’re ogling like an idiot, Adrien,” Peter said. “Don’t burn your chips.”
“Sorry, it’s just a little bit weird that your kwami can do that.”
“And I look good doing it.” Suluu struck a pose and Peter rolled his eyes.
“Okay lil miss thing, you’ve had your moment, time to be a good little kwami and transform back now.”
Suluu turned back into a kwami in a flash, and yet the blush on Adrien’s face had yet to subside. Wow, he really was attention starved after one whole day of the single life. Not that he was actually emotionally attracted to Suluu. She was just…hot. Very very hot, which was probably to be expected, given her predisposition to heat.
“Bon appétit,” Peter said when he served the salsa and chips. Adrien fixed him with a suspicious expression.
“Is this going to give me food poisoning?”
“Oh ye of little faith,” Peter said, pressing a dramatic hand over his heart, scooping salsa onto a chip with the other before popping it into his mouth. “Mmm, just like my aunt used to make.”
“Used to? What made her stop?” Adrien suspiciously acquired a chip of his own, eying the salsa with distrust.
“It’s a figure of speech. My aunt has never made this, I found the recipe online.”
Adrien took a careful nibble, surprised to find that it wasn’t bad at all. Perhaps even a broken clock was right twice a day, or in this case, his deranged roommate could occasionally make a decent meal.
“I’m a connoisseur, what can I say?” Peter bragged when Adrien didn’t instantly throw up on the spot.
“So, Suluu,” Adrien said hastily changing the subject. He wasn’t about to stoke Peter’s ego further. “Do you like being human?”
She bobbed in the air, thinking for a moment. “Yeah. I mean it feels so restricting but it’s also freeing at the same time. To be able to fit in with everyone else after an eternity of being alone… honestly I don’t know how I can describe it in a way that you’d understand.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Peter said, looking up at her. “When this is all over, you can be as human as you like.”
“What are you talking about?” Suluu laughed, glancing at Adrien. Adrien had no idea either and shrugged at her.
“Once we defeat the Papillon. As long as I have the anklet on, you have a corporeal form, right?” Peter chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. “So I’ll just keep it on and you can turn human and do whatever you want. You can travel wherever you want, I’ll get you access to the Avengers trust fund and send you to university or something. You could start a glassblowing business, hell, you could even be a lawyer like the people on that show you like.”
Suluu hung in the air, staring blankly at him. “You’d just…let me go? Like that? You’d let me become a prosecutor?”
“It’s obviously something that’s important to you. I’m not going to stop you. If being a human prosecutor is what you’ve got your heart set on, then by god, go do it.”
Her big grey eyes filled up with golden tears that spilled down her cheeks as Suluu flew at Peter, hugging the side of his face. Adrien himself teared up at the sight. He wasn’t really sure what to think of the fact that Suluu, a literal god, had a dream just to be human, let alone go into law, but it seemed right. Being Helios wasn’t that important to Peter, Adrien could tell. But being with people, fitting in, was important for Suluu.
Plagg was content to be a kwami and eat cheese for the rest of eternity, Adrien was well aware of that fact. But Plagg also hadn’t been mistreated and used in the way Peter had alluded to Suluu being treated throughout her life.
“Peter, you’re my favourite!” She squealed.
“Yeah, I’m well aware that I’m the best.” He grinned, gesturing a chip offhandedly. “Also I want to buy a motorcycle and I don’t want anyone to snitch to Aunt May and you cannot keep a secret for the life of you.”
“A motorcycle?” Adrien raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t those things crazy dangerous?”
Peter gave him a look. “Adrien, I do a lot of dangerous things already. Plus, motorcycles are more versatile, in my opinion. Cars have to stay on roads.”
“So do motorcycles,” Adrien reminded him.
“That’s just a suggestion.” He wrinkled his nose as Suluu settled onto his shoulder. “I’ve seen Captain America ride a motorcycle and he didn’t have to stick to the road.”
“Was this before, during, or after he was considered a wanted war criminal?” Peter’s silence following Adrien’s question confirmed his suspicions.
That was, until Peter actually did respond. “Is he not a war criminal anymore? That’s good to know.”
“I assumed, since he seems to hang out at your headquarters place. I figured a wanted man wouldn’t hide in plain sight.”
“Can you imagine trying to invade that place?” Peter cocked an eyebrow. “Talk about a death wish.”
His offhanded comment reminded Adrien of something. “Have you ever like…killed someone?” Like Mayura, perhaps?He had no way of knowing if she was okay, since Peter was adamant about not telling Adrien her identity, just as he was adamant about not telling him precisely how he’d acquired the peacock miraculous.
Peter blinked. “Like…consciously? No, I don’t think so. Aliens and shit yeah, but not an actual human person. Most of the time, I stick to trying to save them. Loki doesn’t count, he’s never really dead.”
“What does that mean?” Adrien propped his head up with one hand, fixing Peter with an intense look. “Like, you can just kill someone and he comes back?”
“I’ve never personally killed Loki.” Peter widened his eyes in an expression of false innocence. “He’s annoying, sure, but I usually just sit there whenever we have meetings. It’s everyone else’s job to argue with him and occasionally Thor kills him. Sometimes Loki kills Thor. It’s always very interesting.”
“You have meetings? How much Avengers stuff goes on that I don’t know about?” Obviously family drama was on the table.
“Don’t get excited. I’ve only ever been to two.” Peter let out a sigh. “I’m the youngest member, behind Wanda and Shuri. Whenever they include me and Shuri in the meetings, it’s very restrained. Diplomatic, boring stuff like ‘don’t set off bombs in civilian inhabited areas’ as if I would ever do that.”
“Who are Wanda and Shuri?” Adrien only knew most of the Avengers by their superhero names.
“Scarlet Witch and the princess of Wakanda. Shuri’s cool, she’s an engineer who usually works with vibranium.”
Adrien shook his head in an attempt to categorize his thoughts. He’d always thought of himself as well-connected but now he was realizing there was an entire network behind Peter. His friend was only one branch of an operation that spanned around the globe, through governments and to the outskirts of towns. Was there anywhere someone could hide from a force like that? Adrien didn’t think so. He was glad Mr. Stark’s priorities didn’t seem to include world domination.
“Do you think you and Ladybug will be okay?” Peter asked gently, cautiously changing the subject. Adrien picked at his jeans.
“I guess so,” he said finally. “I mean, we always wind up being okay in the end. We’ve just got to go back to being partners like we’ve always been. And I mean partners in the strictly superhero sense.”
Adrien would take whatever crumbs he could get. It was more important than ever that he stuck by his friends. He noticed the way Peter spent his time staring off into space, thinking about something or another, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was preparing for the fight against the Papillon or whispering with Suluu. The looming threat and the fact that Peter obviously thought something was coming was gradually eating away at Adrien, yet here he was, mourning his breakup.
He’d already spent too long on it. He needed to move past it, and fast. They couldn’t afford him fighting at anything less than his best.
Paris didn’t need Adrien Agreste and his emotional baggage. They needed Chat Noir.