The Miraculous Spiderman Series

The festive feeling had settled over Paris. Christmas lights mingled with the regular city lights, peppermint hot chocolate joined café menus, and certain songs became inescapable. Spirits were high amongst the townsfolk, gentle snowfall adding to the seasonal magic. Paris donned the inexplicable feeling of being the inside of a snow globe; the city transformed into a picturesque scene of all the jolly and joy the holidays seemed to bring.

Peter hummed along to the festive tune that played throughout the mall, arms already laden with purchases. In years past, he’d only had to shop for two; May and Ned. But this year he had a whole list of people to buy for and school-provided money to spend, so he’d upped his shopping game. That also may have had something to do with his current shopping companion.

“Oooh, this is cute!” Chloé swerved away from the main walkway, moving to inspect a dress on display in a store’s window.

“Chloé, we’re Christmas shopping. This isn’t for you.” Peter shifted one of the heavier bags onto his other arm, fixing Chloé with a pointed look that she pointedly ignored.

“I know but look how cute it is! It would look so good on me.” She practically drooled over the pine green satin bodycon dress. “You know how good my ass would look in this?”

Peter raised a sceptical eyebrow. “I’m sure your derrière would look amazing. You can get it some other time, though. I still need to get a gift for Adrien.”

“And me.”

“And you, although I wasn’t going to do that with you right here.”

“Well you can get me this dress for Christmas!”

He sighed, rolling his eyes as he followed her into the store. At least he didn’t have to come up with anything exceptionally creative for her present. Chloé was one of those people who was ridiculously easy to impress with a large price tag or, alternatively, satisfied with the gift if she picked it out herself. Even the four hundred euro marking left him unfazed at that point. He’d been saving up his daily allowances on his school charge card and was now blowing it all on presents. Why not.

“I’ve got to try it on,” Chloé said, handing him her bags to hold while she disappeared off into the change room with the dress. It was the same way most of the shopping trip had gone. Chloé would try on clothes she found cute, hum and haw over them once they were on her body, always inevitably deciding she didn’t want them.

Peter sat down in one of the leather chairs by changing rooms, selecting a magazine that sat on the table beside it. He didn’t think Chloé would be too long actually changing, it was usually the deciding part that took the longest. He’d figured out early on she didn’t actually care for his opinion, so he had no moral obligation to actually pay attention.

“Oh hey, Peter!” Alya’s voice was the only thing that prompted him to lower the magazine and he glanced up in surprise. Sure enough, Alya and Marinette were standing in front of him, both girls holding a few bags each.

“Christmas shopping?” Peter asked, grateful for the distraction.

“Figured we’d get it done before the rush starts.” Alya said cheerfully. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s a lot of bags,” Marinette observed, eyes widening as she took in the small mountain of purchases at Peter’s feet.

“They’re not all mine,” Peter hastened to explain. “Some of them are-”

“Okay, am I sexy, or am I just unbelievably hot?” Chloé chose that moment to make her grand reveal, stepping out of the changing room. He had to admit, she had been right about her previous predictions of how the dress would make her look. It seemed to hug all the right parts of her and the green went spectacularly with her hair. She froze when she laid eyes on Marinette and Alya, her mouth popping open into a perfect ‘o’.

“Hey Chloé, Alya and Marinette are here too. But you were right! Your ass looks great.” Peter gave her a thumbs up and she shot him daggers.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you two were…shopping together. How quaint.” Peter had never heard Alya use the word ‘quaint’ in her life. Her shock leaked into her tone as she caught his gaze, tilting her head slightly in a silent question. He avoided it.

“Adrien had a photoshoot, plus Chloé is always up for a shopping trip.”

“Well, we have some shopping to do too, so we’ll…catch you later?” Alya said, tone clipped as she nodded between the two of them.

“Bye!” Marinette waved as Alya stalked off. Peter noticed with no small amount of pride that it seemed Marinette and Chloé had made nice. Chloé really was making an effort, as promised.

“Great,” Chloé scowled, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting. “That was horrid.”

“Utterly horrid,” Peter said in a snooty impression of her, pretending to dramatically toss his non-existent ponytail.

“Argh!” She snatched the nearest magazine, rolling it up with practiced ease, and smacked him with it. He held his hands up in mock surrender, laughing all the while.

“So is it a yes for the dress?” Peter asked when she finally finished her punishment. “Or do I have to find you another gift?”

“Alya was ridiculously jealous, which means I look amazing.” Chloé stepped in front of a mirror, inspecting her figure.

“I think the jealousy was more about us hanging out, not the dress, to be honest with you.”

“Oh, we’re hanging out, now are we?” Chloé gave him a wicked grin, leaning down to plant one hand on either armrest of his chair, getting all up in his personal space.

Peter cleared his throat, meeting her gaze in an unblinking stare. “I presumed.”

“Interesting, very interesting.” She reached forwards, fixing a lock of his hair. Peter, always touch starved, leaned into her touch slightly. It didn’t mean anything. This was how he and Chloé operated, but nothing ever came of it.

“I’m pretty sure Alya and Marinette are still in the store,” he said softly, eyes never leaving hers. “If they were to see this, it might raise some questions.”

“Let them wonder.” Chloé stood back up, giving herself a once-over in the mirror. “I think I’ll get it.”

“You mean I’ll get it.”

“Yes, daddy.”

Peter shot bolt upright at her words, blinking wildly. “Sorry? What the fuck?”

“I meant sugar daddy!” Chloé blushed a magnificent crimson that clashed horrifically with the dress. All Peter could do was sputter.

“Not much better!” He managed. “Someone is seriously going to get the wrong idea about us, you coming over here and bending over me like that and then calling me fucking daddy the next moment, I’m-”

“Shut up, Parker.” She turned on her heel, marching back into the dressing room, leaving Peter to do his best to calm his own raging blush. He and Chloé usually mock-flirted with each other, but it was usually much more restrained. Maybe, however, he’d misread their dynamic.

Few words were exchanged in the time it took them to pay and leave the store. Peter couldn’t stand it, so naturally he decided to break the silence by poking fun.

“You look like a tomato.”

“I said shut up!” She snatched her bags from him in a haughty manner, walking a few steps in front of him, head held high. He barely stifled a laugh as he followed her.

“Come on, we’ve got to get Adrien something!”

“People who mock me don’t get to go shopping with me.” Chloé came to a dead stop, folding her arms. It was only due to his Spidey reflexes that Peter avoided smacking into her.

“I need your help, though.” It was true. Peter had literally no idea what to get Adrien for Christmas. At least Chloé was well versed in fashion.

She continued to glower at him.

“Fine. I am so terribly sorry for mocking you for your totally not funny slip up.” He fought to keep his expression neutral. “And I beseech of you, my fair lady, to help me pick out a present for our mutual acquaintance.”

“How could I refuse such a charming offer?” Chloé said in an equal dramatic manner. “Shall we?”

Peter lead them at a meandering pace, peering into every store they passed to see if he could find anything Adrien might like. “What do you get a kid who has everything?”

“Adrien does not have everything,” Chloé scoffed. “But as it is with most rich kids, the things they lack you cannot buy.”

Peter glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

“All Adrien ever wanted was for someone he could relate to. He wanted a friend. You’ve already given him that. So no matter what you buy for him, he’ll love it, since you’ve already given him yourself.”

“That was…weirdly poetic, actually.”

“Thanks, I speak from rich kid experience.”

“So,” Peter braved. “What would it be for you?”

“Huh?” She glanced at him.

“If I could give you something one can’t buy, what would it be?”

“You’ve already given it to me.” Chloé gave him a cryptic smile. Her smile sparked a thought in Peter’s mind, and he thought of the perfect gift for Adrien. A smile of his own spread across his face. A homemade gift would be perfect for Adrien. Just the right amount of personality.

“I know what to get Adrien. Or rather, make Adrien.”

“Arts and crafts?”

“Not quite.” Peter shot a wink in her direction. “I’m afraid I’ll have to cut our little shopping trip short, Mademoiselle Bourgeois. A project awaits me.”

“Godspeed, Monsieur Parker.” She gave him a little wave as he turned on his heel, running on out of the nearest exit. Two seconds later, he’d turned into Spiderman, sealed all his bags shut with webbing, and was swinging through the air.

“I must admit,” Suluu said once Peter had returned to the Agreste mansion. “I’m not quite sure what on earth went down in that mall. Nor do I know what we’re making Adrien for Christmas.”

“We’re teenagers, Suluu,” Peter said, like that explained everything, leaping into his chair and waking his computer up. “And I’m going to design Adrien something super cool. Like super cool. I have no idea what it is yet, though.”

“I’m so glad I was never a teenager,” Suluu said with disdain. “You’re all impaired in all regards. Can’t make decisions, act like an idiot, look stupid-”

“Help me with this instead of standing there and crowing on about how you hate teens. Adrien needs something badass.”

“Badass, opposed to Chloé Bourgeois’s ass, which I heard plenty about today and-”

Peter cut her off once again. “Okay! We get it! Now help me with this goddamn present. We don’t have much time, and Adrien expects me to be with him whenever he’s home, so I can’t work on it when he’s here.”

“How about you make him a manual on how not to be an idiot? Like, step one: how to recognize when two girls who look absolutely identical are, in fact, the same person.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“I never claimed to be a creative genius.”

“Not to mention rather callous.”

“I also never claimed to be cordial.”

“For such a little bird, you have a lot of sass.” Peter eyed her. “It’s bad enough I have to go back to the mall later to get you your present.”

“And what could that be?” Suluu grinned, her little beak tilting upwards.

“No idea.” Peter whirled back to his computer. It was a lie, he did have her present all planned out, and he was certain Suluu would like it even more than anything he could buy her. However, he wasn’t about to reveal anything to her just yet. It would have to be a surprise. “It all depends on how well you behave these next few days.”

“Okay well let’s think. What does Adrien like more than anything? Besides the obvious.” Suluu, convinced by Peter’s story and now on her best behaviour, said.

“He likes his schedules.” Peter shrugged. “He likes…other stuff, presumably. I don’t know. Every year at Christmas I completely forget everything I could have possibly gotten someone. It’s like I don’t know Adrien until the twenty sixth.”

“You’re a disaster.” Suluu landed on his keyboard. “Adrien likes cats.”

“Well I can’t get him a cat for Christmas, now can I?”

“I like cats too, if you want an idea.”

“You’re a bird.”

Suluu scowled at him. “My kwami form is a bird. I’m actually a god, you nimwit. I don’t see you calling Tikki a bug.”

“I don’t know what she’s supposed to be, actually. Is she supposed to be a bug?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Great, well we’ve got absolutely nothing done on Adrien’s present! And he’s supposed to be back in half an hour!” Peter buried his head in his hands, groaning as he propped his elbows up on his desk. Why was it so hard to think of something for Adrien? “Maybe I’ll make him a nice pair of earrings.”

“What will the earrings do?”

“Go in his ears.” He started a program on his computer while Suluu flew behind him. The telltale whoosh of her transforming came from behind him, and Peter spun around and nearly fell off his chair at what he saw.

Suluu had turned herself into a near identical version of Adrien, the only difference being that her gem was now a ring on her middle finger, apparently the one thing she couldn’t get rid of in her other forms.

“I don’t want a damn pair of earrings,” Suluu said in a perfect impression of Adrien.

“That’s creepy, stop it.” Peter stood up, prepared to tackle her, but before he could, another column of fire engulfed her and then he was looking in a mirror.

Not a real mirror, of course, but Peter Benjamin Parker, right down to the loose thread on his shirt, was staring right back at him.

“Hey Peter,” Adrien chose that moment to stroll on into the room. “The shoot finished early and so we were going to put decorations up and….” His voice trialed off when his eyes landed on the twins.

“Hi Adrien,” both Peters said in unison, turning to face him in tandem.

“What’s going on?” Poor Adrien looked between them. Peter noticed Suluu shove the hand with the ring on it into her pocket, not that Adrien would’ve been that observant anyways.

“Suluu is being a copycat,” Suluu said before Peter could say it himself. “Isn’t she fucking annoying?”

“Shut up,” Peter rolled his eyes.

Adrien blinked, uncertain what to say. “Uh, ok. So, if the real Peter would just come and do the Christmas decorating, then uh….”

“Okay!” Suluu, in her haste to prove that she was the real Peter for no other reason than to cause problems on purpose, tripped over the floor and face planted.

“I love how I don’t even have to do anything and you wind up proving that you’re the imposter on your own,” Peter said with a laugh as Suluu, defeated, turned back into her regular self.

“Not going to lie, I totally thought that Suluu was you,” Adrien admitted. Peter rolled his eyes.

“Of course you did. Okay, Su, if you want you can wrap the Christmas presents we bought today. Just look up a video on how to do it or something.”

“You got it!” Suluu zipped over to the pile of bags, armed with a pair of scissors and a roll of tape, excited to make herself useful.

“That ought to keep her occupied for a few hours,” Peter muttered, shutting the door to his room behind him and Adrien. “And that’s the biggest tree I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The Agreste family Christmas tree reached up towards the high ceiling of the house, surpassing the second level with ease. It was massive, and Peter could already tell he’d have to use some very precarious balancing techniques to get the star on the top.

“Yeah, my dad likes to look festive. He’s not big on the holidays but he’s big on appearances.”

That became apparent when Adrien hauled the Christmas decorations out of a storage closet. All the baubles and ornaments were decorative and impersonal. Peter’s own tree back in New York was usually covered with ornaments he’d made as a kid, along with a mess of ornaments collected from god knows where. May had acquired a Cheesecake Factory ornament at some point, despite the fact neither of them had set food in the establishment in a living memory, it was always the highlight of the tree decorating experience.

Together, the two boys worked their way through decorating the tree. Peter took the top half of the tree in an impressive display to rival any gymnast. When it came time to place the star at the top, Peter grabbed Adrien, who was toting the decoration, and leapt nimbly up the wall, completely defying the laws of gravity to help his friend.

“It looks perfect,” Adrien declared as Peter plugged the lights in.

“We’re not done yet.” Peter nodded towards the rest of the decorations, mainly composed of wreaths, tinsel, and garland.

A solid hour later, Christmas looked like it had exploded in the Agreste mansion in a way that only a Parker could have orchestrated. It was a delightful mess, and Peter had made a side trip to kitchen to acquire some ‘Christmas-smelling spices’ to sprinkle haphazardly to create a festive smell.

“Jolly good,” Peter declared, planting both hands firmly on his hips. “I’d say we bagged that Christmas spirit.”

Adrien cocked a good-natured eyebrow. “Père is not going to be thrilled about the smell.”

“Well then Père can decorate his own house next time, no?” Peter gave him a lopsided grin, dancing around, enthused by the Christmas spirit. “Let’s see how Suluu did with those gifts, shall we?”

“I’m assuming badly?”

“She’s a fast learner, she’ll have figured it out,” Peter decided and they returned to his room.

Human Suluu was sitting cross-legged on the floor, bits of scrap paper and ribbon strewn about her, tape stuck to every square inch of her arms and legs. But the presents were wrapped. And beautifully at that. Peter had been correct; Suluu was a fast learner and a determined one at that.

“That was harder than it looks,” Suluu said, eying the remainder of the wrapping paper roll with disdain.

“These look amazing.” Adrien cautiously approached the mountain of presents. Peter could tell he still wasn’t used to Suluu casually turning into a human just yet, especially since his own kwami seemed fully determined to only use his powers at their bare minimum. Plagg seemed reluctant to even suit Adrien up. The complete opposite of Suluu, who was happy just to be surrounded by people.

Peter couldn’t even begin to fathom what it might have been like for her in all the years within her self-described timeless limbo all alone. Although he couldn’t relate, he was determined to never let her go through that again. He’d do all he could to prevent it.

He had a few ideas already, he just had to flush them out, as he always did. The first step was finishing Suluu’s Christmas present.

“Thanks Adrien. It’s difficult doing all the work around here, though. What must a kwami do to catch a break?” She flipped her long hair over her shoulder, rolling her eyes dramatically. Peter frowned. He had the unreasonable distrust of her in human form, most likely due to her general attractiveness. Peter didn’t trust pretty people, especially people who were prettier than Adrien. Yes, Suluu could literally choose what she looked like and change it any given moment, but he still trusted her more when she was a harmless little bird. This version of Suluu had a permanent mischievous glint in her eye and a toothy grin to match.

“So, do you guys usually do gift exchanges as superheroes?” Peter asked, changing the subject. “Like, should I be getting Ladybug something?”

“I got her something,” Adrien said. “You know, before the whole…thing. I’m still going to give it to her because she’s a great partner anyhow, but I have no idea if she got me something or not. It’s up to you.”

“I’m going to get Ladybug a brain,” Suluu chirped, most unhelpfully. “She could use one.”

“You will not,” Peter said sharply, “be giving Ladybug anything, miss ma’am. We are trying to help Adrien win her back, not aggravate Ladybug and exacerbate the situation.”

“Okay, but picture this, we use me as a jealous ploy, and then-”

“No. This is not our situation, so we will do nothing, got it?”

“Loud and clear.” Suluu turned back into a kwami, pouting as she did so.

“I was present for the whole conversation and yet I feel as though I’m missing something,” Adrien said, looking between them.

“Let’s go see what you got Ladybug,” Peter said as Suluu flew up to Peter’s bed, most likely to watch her favourite court show on the television. “We gotta make sure it’s not in poor taste.”

The weeks passed and Ladybug and Chat Noir returned to their usual friendly dynamic, at least when akuma fighting. However, Peter noticed that Chat used less jokes around Ladybug, generally removing anything that could be seen as flirtatious from his usual dialogue, lest it give her the wrong impression. But still, Peter remained caught between wanton glances that neither one noticed, both too afraid to make any sort of move. Ladybug still didn’t call Chat ‘Adrien’, but she didn’t refer to him as any pet names either. Chat Noir stuck to calling her ‘Ladybug’ and nothing more.

Their sullen silence often brought a damper on the whole group, and while Peter did his best to make enough jokes for the three of them, he couldn’t brighten their mood more than a smidge while they were together. Instead, Peter spent many nights wondering if guilt and sorrow had always been that tangible.

He still hadn’t apologized to Ladybug. He’d been harsh with her, he knew that, but then again someone had to be. Master Fu and Chat put her on a pedestal, to the point where the pillar that held her was as real to her as he was to his own self. She was always taking the moral high ground in an attempt to avoid selfish urges, he could tell, but it made her detached to her own feelings.

Is it not what you wanted? His own words, his own truth, was at the back of his mind whenever he looked at her. Despite how hard he tried, his protectiveness for Adrien had shone through. At every turn, all Peter wanted to do was protect Adrien. He saw Ladybug’s side of it too, though, and it hurt him. As much as he could understand it, he wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until all her shreds of doubt fell out.

But part of protecting Adrien was letting him live his own life. Ladybug wasn’t the threat he had to worry about. The breakup would be nothing compared to the moment Adrien found out who his father really was. Just another thing Peter couldn’t protect him from forever. Already he could feel the shift in Adrien. He’d been turning his attention towards akuma fighting as of late, eyes burning with hate whenever the Papillon was brought up. And Peter could tell why.

The Papillon was the physical manifestation of everything Adrien couldn’t have. His freedom and identity were barred by the Papillon’s very existence, his own emotions unable to be felt due to the threat of akumatization. Peter saw all of that when he looked at Adrien, and he feared the truth would break him. As much as tried not to, Adrien loved his father, even after he disappointed him time and time again. Because always, always Adrien was making excuses for him.

That was one thing Peter had promised himself. Never would he make Adrien make excuses for him. Peter would be there for him, so that when the time came Adrien would know what to do.

But deep down, M. Agreste was Adrien’s dearest love, and someday soon he would become his greatest sorrow, his deepest hurt and his most ruthless betrayal. But, just as Peter had told Ladybug, you can’t resist change. One can only hope for the best.

And Peter had a lot of hope.

“What’s wrong?” Alya asked him on the last day of their classes before the Christmas holiday. Peter must have had his face screwed up in concentration without realizing, and he quickly relaxed his features before replying.

“The holidays, you know. Just gets me thinking about…capitalism. And how the concept of Christmas and giving has been reduced to a mere marketing scheme designed to be one last cash grab for companies before the new year,” Peter said resolutely.

“No, no you’re not.” Alya said. “That’s not your I’m-thinking-about-factual-and-scientic-things-that-you-wouldn’t-understand face, that’s your I’m-thinking-about-something-deep-and-philosophical-that-you-wouldn’t-understand face.”

“I have different faces for those?” Peter raised an eyebrow at her over his lunch. They’d all gone out for lunch at a restaurant nearby their school as one last hurrah before Adrien was inevitably booked and busy as there was no school to schedule modelling around, and Nino, Marinette, and Adrien were still trying to decide what to order.

Alya and Peter, however, were the least picky when it came to foreign food, so they’d easily selected items from the Greek menu to eat. Spreading his taramasalata on his bread, Peter eyed the lamb skewers Alya was eating, wondering if he’d be able to beg one off her later. Probably not.

“You do, actually.” Alya set a now-clean skewer aside and dug into her rice. “I just know you’re thinking great things and I so desperately want to know.”

“Trust me, this is not something you want to be burdened with.” Peter finished his bread and pulled his plate of moussaka closer to him. “What is taking the others so long?”

As if summoned by his question, the trio appeared, Adrien grinning as he slid into the seat next to Peter, carrying as much food as he could possibly hold.

“I couldn’t decide,” he said, already proceeding to stuff his face, “and I figure this is the last full meal I’ll get since I’m spending two weeks at home.”

Peter watched the way Marinette’s eyes tracked Adrien’s every movement as he ate, daintily eating her own meal. She was worried about him and his lack of food, Peter assumed. Luckily, Peter would be there to provide Adrien with all the food he lacked.

“You’ve got me there,” Peter voiced aloud for Marinette and the other’s sake. “I’ve been meaning to learn how to make bœuf bourguignon and there’s no time like the present. So don’t you worry, guys, Adrien will be well fed.”

“I don’t trust you to make anything,” Adrien said. “You’re a menace in the kitchen.”

“Am not. It’s not like it’s rocket science, you could learn to cook too, you just don’t.”

“I don’t have time.”

“No excuse.” Peter polished off his meal, leaning back in his chair to eye Nino across the table.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” Nino asked, glancing behind him to see if Peter could possibly be looking at anyone else. “It’s not my fault he doesn’t cook!”

“No, I just think it’s cute that you and Alya are wearing the same shade of lipstick,” Peter said in a falsely innocent tone, grinning at the way his two friends blushed, Nino hastily wiping at his mouth.

“How do you notice stuff like that?” Marinette asked, peering at him. “A person can’t notice all that at once, they’d explode.”

“Hot take,” Alya said. “Peter isn’t a person.”

“You got me,” Peter said, exchanging a reticent smile with Adrien. “I’m secretly a sentient being sent from heaven to bless your lives.”

Adrien snorted. “More like from hell.”

“I’m actually a blessing in your life, Agreste, don’t forget it. But in all seriousness, it must be nice not to be noticing everything at all moments of everyday.” Peter looked around their group. “You’re all unreliable narrators in your own life! That’s so idiosyncratic!”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Alya diffidently admitted. Peter didn’t even know if he was using it in the right context, he just knew no one else at the table knew enough to correct him. Intelligence by comparison.

“Peter just likes using big words to remind everyone that he’s smarter,” Nino grumbled. “It’s rude, honestly.”

“Is it actually rude or do you just not know how to properly articulate yourself?” Peter gave him a smug smile.  

“Adrien, your friend is bullying us.” Nino grumped.

“Speaking of bullying,” Alya said, leaning forwards slightly. “What was up with you and Chloé in the mall?”

“Oh yeah!” Adrien turned to Peter too, just not for the same reasons. “How was that?”

Peter sucked in a deep breath, popping his spine. “I would like to speak to my lawyer before I delve into my accounts of any possibly incriminating activity. No further comment.”

Maybe Suluu’s law show was rubbing off on him, just a touch.

Patrols on Christmas Eve hadn’t been on Marinette’s itinerary. But Spiderman had apparently decided everyone was cordial enough to maintain a semblance of dignity now and had cited Christmas Eve as a time when emotions were running high. Marinette hoped she didn’t prove him wrong, at least on the behaviour front.

Things between her and Chat had been tense, and they hadn’t texted since the breakup. True to her word about wanting space, she only spoke to him when they were fighting akumas. Oh, and everyday at school.

She couldn’t lie and say it hadn’t been interesting observing Chat in his natural habitat. Chat grinning with his friends, Chat talking about his next photoshoot, Chat angrily telling Peter that no, he couldn’t mix those two chemicals and Chat dealing with the repercussions when Peter did, in fact, mix the two chemicals ‘for funsies’ only to have it start a small fire.

Not that she had seen much of him since winter break started, besides the constant uploading of promotional posts to his instagram account. Peter’s account offered much more insight to their daily life, however, and Marinette had taken to stalking it instead.

Photos of Peter and Adrien making gingerbread houses, building snowmen, and doing more Christmas-themed activities flooded her timeline, all accompanied by a witty caption by Peter that made Marinette miss the two boys all the more. Or more specifically, Adrien.

She would see him tonight.

To avoid thinking about it, Marinette spent her day helping out in the bakery and cleaning the house, belting show tunes to drown out the sound of her own thoughts. In a few short hours, she’d be seeing Chat Noir as Chat Noir and her as Ladybug for something other than an akuma attack. It would be their first proper conversation in awhile.

Her voice reached a screeching pitch along with the song she was listening to, an English one she knew every word to without knowing the meaning behind it. The emotions were clear, however. Triumph, freedom, power. All things Marinette could use a little bit of.

“Bringgggg me dowwwwwnnnnnnnn!” Marinette attempted to hold the note as long as the singer but failed, panting as she put away the broom. She felt a bit better.

Christmas Eve dinner was a lonely affair, as both her parents were working late to deal with demand. Marinette ate a bowl of cereal and a croissant for dinner, retiring to her room immediately after bidding her parents a goodnight.

Is this how Adrien feels every night? She wondered before reminding herself that he had Peter with him now. But he might not have Peter there forever. Once the school year is over, Peter goes back to New York.

Like a bucket of ice water down her back, a chill spread through Marinette as she realized the future of the phoenix miraculous was not something she would be a part of. Master Fu had made some vague comments about possibly giving Marinette the title of Guardian when he retired, and she already felt partially responsible for Helios, no matter the fact that he seemed to follow his own agenda.

There would be another miraculous user on the other side of the world, doing what he pleased with it and she wouldn’t be able to stop him in the slightest. And a part of her was still worried that he would turn bad, as ridiculous as it was. Even though he’d proved himself to be exceptionally responsible, she still liked to keep it right under her nose.

When it came time to suit up, Marinette took a deep breath and inspected herself in the mirror longer than necessary. Breathing her way through it until she could safely say she was in the right state of mind to go see the others.

She grabbed Chat’s gift on her way out, looping her arms through the straps on the bag. Spiderman had already told her not to get him anything, and she obliged, not knowing if he even celebrated Christmas.

Spidey was there when she landed softly in the snow. A light snowfall had begun, a lot less violent than the snowfall of the night her and Chat had broken up. This snow was light and fluffy and promised hope of a white Christmas.

“Hey Spiderman.” She joined him sitting at the edge of the rooftop, trying to gauge his mood. It was a difficult feat.

“Merry Christmas, Ladybug,” he said, flicking a chunk of snow off the roof. Seemed he was in an alright mood, albeit a tad detached.

“Same to you. How are things?”

“Seasonal,” he said, eyes trained on the falling flakes against their dark canvas. “It always seems to rejuvenate me, leave me happier and filled with hope, but one must stop to wonder if hope is a profitable commodity.”

As always, he spoke in riddles, ones Marinette couldn’t wrap her head around well enough to decipher. Tonight was no different.

“A commodity?”

“All the gods of man have been made commodities,” Spidey said. “Daddy Communism was right.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“I don’t expect you to. However, on the off chance that you might understand, I like to vocalize these thoughts aloud. One day they might make sense to you, and you’ll realize that perhaps my ramblings had some merit. Plus, I’ve been told it’s unnerving when I sit in silence.”

“You ought to write an autobiography or something,” Marinette laughed. “Then people can pay to read those thoughts, and they might actually understand them.”

“To be understood is an overrated thing. In truth, that is my fear, that one might lose what sheltered innocence they have to the point where what I say makes sense to them.”

“Rest assured,” Marinette said, donning his serious tone. “I haven’t the foggiest idea of what you’re saying.”

“So long as one has hope, they can live through anything. Is hope within itself cruel? The Papillon has hope he can defeat you, and you the other way around. Everyone hopes that the world is a better place than what it has proven itself to be, and society capitalizes off of that.” Spiderman let out a long sigh. “All I mean to say is that as much good as it would do me to do away with it all together, I still have hope, although it doesn’t mean as much as it once did.”

“Christmas time is different for all of us, huh?” Marinette said, dangling Chat’s present off the roof so she didn’t accidentally set it in snow. Spidey glanced at her, almost surprised.

“Yeah, I guess.” He tilted his head. “Hey, would you mind if I took off after Chat shows up? I’ve got some last minute Christmas stuff to take care of, and I know things might be awkward between you two but I want to give you space to sort it out.”

Marinette had half a mind to tell him no, to tell him to stay, but clearly something was off with her usually cheerful hero. “Go for it. But, uh, if you need someone to talk to, Spidey, don’t hesitate to reach out.” She wondered if there was anyone there waiting for him at home, or if Spiderman went home to an empty house at Christmas.

“Thanks, Ladybug. I might head out now, Chat will get worried if he sees I’m worried. Merry Christmas, anyways.” He slid off the edge of the roof, letting himself free fall for a moment before he shot off a web and swung off into the night.

Not even a minute went by before Chat was landing on the roof and Marinette realized she was very much screwed. She hadn’t rehearsed what she was going to say to him; she’d been counting on having Spiderman there to act as a buffer.

“Hi, Ladybug,” Chat said. He was holding a wrapped box in one hand.

“Hi Chat,” Marinette shifted his present in her hands awkwardly. “Spiderman left already he was…not doing too great.”

“I know,” Chat said, his eyes never leaving her face. “I asked him to.”

“What?”

“Don’t be mad,” he said quickly. “But I kinda felt like our partnership could only fully repair itself if it was just the two of us. So I asked Spidey to come up with a reasonable explanation for him not to be able to hang around so that we could…talk. I just told him to talk about whatever and then leave when I arrived.”

“His explanation was something to do with…capitalism? I think? To be entirely honest, I only get about half of what he’s talking about at any given moment.”

“I mean he’s been on about that for awhile. I was talking to him earlier and he said he was doing some philanthropy stuff with Iron Man or something of the sort.” Chat rubbed the back of his neck.

“I, um, got you a present.” Marinette held out the bag to Chat, cheeks colouring as he looked between her and the bag. “You know, since it’s Christmas and all. I was going to get you something from the Agreste brand before I found out that you were the brand.”

“I got you something too.” Chat held out the wrapped box. “Please bear in mind that I bought it before the whole reveal fiasco, but I still thought you might like it.”

They swapped the presents, avoiding touching one another as they did so. Marinette looked at him. “So, who should go first?”

“I’ll open mine first, if that’s alright with you.” Chat shot her a nervous grin, going to move aside the tissue paper to open it. Marinette waved a hand at him to tell him to continue.

He extracted the leather bound book from the bag, gently placing the now-empty bag down in the snow beside him so he could properly inspect the gift she’d given him. Marinette sucked in a breath as she watched his eyes trace the cover.

The scrapbook she’d made had easily been the most demanding project she’d ever undertaken. She’d hand drawn a bunch of the details inside it, as well as to recreate moments between her and Chat that there hadn’t been a camera around for. Despite the amount of time it had taken, she’d cherished every minute of it, going back through the memories of her and Chat’s partner ship.

Chat flipped through it and she could see his eyes fill with tears, the happy kind. “This is…this is amazing. How long did this take you?”

Long enough to realize I’m helplessly in love with you and no amount of time spent apart could ever change that, Marinette thought wistfully. Out loud, she said, “it took awhile.”

“This is art. I swear, I’m going to keep this forever.” He glanced at her over the book and she could imagine him thinking the same. Except it was only that; her imagination. Closing the book once more, she watching him run his fingers over the gold embossed font on the front. “Les aventures de Ladybug et Chat Noir,” he mused. “I like that.”

“Yeah yeah,” Marinette said, suddenly feeling the need to move things past the subject at hand before she made confessions she would regret. “My turn to open my present.”

“As you wish,” he said with a laugh and a slight bow, tucking the book into the back of his belt. She swallowed her disappointment when no ‘My Lady’ proceeded his remarks.

Holding her breath, Marinette slid a finger under the tape that held the parcel shut at one end, carefully peeling it up and extracting the box from inside. It was red, with gold detailing and a little gold clasp. She recognized it instantly.

“No,” she said, looking at him. Chat shifted uncomfortably.

“You haven’t even opened it yet.”

“This is a freaking Cartier box! This is way too expensive!”

“Literal model,” Chat reminded her. “What’s the point in having a lucrative job if I can’t blow money on the best partner ever.”

She eyed him suspiciously as she lifted the lid, gasping at the jewellery inside. A white gold necklace glinted up at her, with two charms attached. They matched perfectly. A little cat silhouette and a solid ruby ladybug with crystals for spots adorned the simple chain. No wait, those are probably diamonds.

Given Marinette’s knowledge of jewellery, this necklace was probably the most expensive thing she owned and the thrifty side of her wanted to chew Chat out for spending so much on a gift, but the much more appreciative fashion side won over as she toyed with the charms.

“It’s beautiful.” She whispered, looking up at him.

Chat was watching her, the soft snow sparsely sprinkled through his hair, eyes bright and glittering in the night. The necklace may have been precious, but something far more valuable was standing right there in front of her. How had she ever almost let him get away?

“It’s only fitting, My Lady.” There it was.

Marinette stared at him for a moment, lips parted, before she closed the divide between them, wrapping her arms around his neck and gazing up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Chat looked down at her, a teasing smile playing at his lips.

“For being horrid to you. It’s my own fault I found out, and I shouldn’t have held that against you, especially since….” Her voice trailed off as she once more lost herself in his eyes.

“Since?” He prompted, voice barely making any sound. Now or never.

“Since I love you, Adrien.”

He kissed her, and for the first time Marinette was conscious that the boy she was kissing was, in fact, Adrien Agreste and she didn’t mind in the slightest. She’d been in love with him longer than she had Chat Noir, after all, but in the end they were the same person. So she’d loved him all along. She loved him as Chat, she loved him as Adrien, and in the end that was all that mattered. Was it so selfish of her to just want to love him and pretend that nothing else existed for as long as possible?

When something hot and wet dripped onto her cheek, Marinette pulled back slightly, only to see Chat crying. She froze.

“Everything okay, minou?”

“It’s perfect,” he whispered, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “Does this mean everything can go back to the way it was?”

“Yes,” Marinette said, reaching up to cup his face in her hands. “I’m sorry I haven’t revealed myself yet but-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Chat interrupted. “Whenever you’re ready, I am. But I’m not going to push you into it. I’m just happy to be here with you tonight.”

She kissed him again, so soft and tender and putting all her unspoken love into it. Everything she couldn’t say she pressed against his lips, everything she couldn’t do she used to caress him. All the while she loved him.

“I know you said not to,” Chat said when they finally broke apart, “but I couldn’t stop loving you. Even after everything. Is that okay?”

“I don’t think I ever really wanted you to stop,” Marinette admitted. “I was just so confused and lost and I should have stayed with you instead of running away.”

“I don’t care if you ran away, what matters is that you came back and I was still here waiting for you. And you love me.” He grabbed both her hands in his, staring deep into her eyes.

“I do, I really do,” she let out a small laugh, rubbing her nose against his. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

“You love me.” A dreamy smile came over his face. “And I love you. And I’m in heaven.”

“Spending time away from you only made me realize that the best part of me was always you,” Marinette confessed. “And I’ll reveal myself to you soon. That’s a promise.”

“I think I can safely say this is the best Christmas present I’ve ever received,” he leaned in to kiss her once more, and Marinette couldn’t help but agree.

Adrien awoke Christmas morning with a lovesick smile and butterflies in his stomach. He’d fallen asleep the night before after looking through the scrapbook Ladybug had given him, a mantra repeating itself in his head.

She loves me. She loves me. She loves me. Adrien Agreste. Chat Noir. She knows all of me and she loves it.

“Get up, loser! It’s Christmas!” Peter danced into the room, rightfully elated. It had been Adrien’s first priority upon returning home the night prior to inform Peter of his change in relationship status.

“Merry Christmas, Peter.” Adrien tumbled out of bed, grin unwavering as he fixed his hair and stood up.

Peter thrust a gift in his direction. “Here’s your present, I’d recommend you open it up here. Suluu added something when she wrapped it from her, but I have no idea what it is, so proceed with caution.”

“Thanks for the disclaimer,” Adrien laughed, accepting the neatly wrapped present. Tearing away the wrapping paper, Adrien lifted out a backpack.

“Thank…you?” Adrien said slowly, turning it over in his hands. It was made of an odd material, close to what Peter’s suit looked like.

“That is the most secure backpack in the world,” Peter said. “It’s bulletproof, it can turn into a briefcase, suitcase, purse, whatever, and it’s protected by facial recognition software and voice activation. Only you are able to open that bag, meaning you can put superhero related stuff in there, whatever. There’s a computer screen on the inside, you can change the colour or whatever the hell you model types like to do. It’s Stark tech, designed entirely by me, and I think Suluu put her thing in there.”

“That’s really cool, actually.” Adrien looked at the bag. “So how do I open it?”

“Ask it to open.”

“Uh,” Adrien cleared his throat, feeling very stupid about talking to an inanimate object. “Open backpack?”

The top flipped open, the interior of the backpack lighting up so he could see inside it. It was, to use American slang, ‘sick’.

Adrien reached in, pulling out the other wrapped parcel from the interior.

“That would be Suluu’s gift,” Peter said in a helpful tone that suggested he wasn’t going to be helpful in the slightest.

“Should I be, like, worried?”

“I would not allow Suluu to give you a bomb or handgun for Christmas.”

“Oh, but a sniper rifle, those are fair game?”

“Maybe I should’ve gotten you some observational skills. Does that look big enough to be a sniper to you?”

Adrien shot him an exasperated look as he carefully opened the wrapping and let out an accompanying exasperated groan once he’d extracted the object.

“A cat ear headband? Really, Suluu?” He said, glaring at Peter’s pockets.

Peter frowned, confused, before following his gaze. “Oh, she’s back in my room, still asleep, unless you think my pyjamas are to pay for this transgression. When she wakes up, I’ll be sure to tell her you were proper offended. She’ll be thrilled.”

“I’m not a catboy!”

“I’m not the one you have to convince,” Peter said with a Cheshire Cat grin. “Suluu ain’t got a lot, but the one thing she does have is the motherfucking audacity.”

“You have that right,” Adrien grumbled. “Let’s go downstairs.”

Christmas passed in a breeze of lights and snow and ripped paper. Patrols were reinstated and Adrien was able to see his Lady again outside of akuma fighting. In fact, life was righted on its axis for Adrien. Routine, as binding as it was, offered a sense of normality for him.

Peter accompanied him to all of his photo shoots, showing his unwavering and support for Adrien’s busy schedule. Ladybug even dropped by his room one night to bring him pastries. She’d smelled just like the bread she’d brought, most curiously, and Adrien had spent the night dreaming of the two of them baking.

They were into the new year by the time things got interesting again.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Adrien asked Peter when he walked into Peter’s room, only to find him hanging upside down from the ceiling in full suit, watching Suluu as she worked her way through a massive book detailing the French Constitution of 1958.

“My thoughts are worth far more than that,” Peter said distractedly, eyes never leaving a point just beyond the tip of Suluu’s tiny wings.

“How long have you been hanging upside down like that?”

“I’m watching a nature documentary. It’s very good quality, surround sound and everything. I have never been more at peace than I am now.”

“What is Suluu doing?”

“Studying to apply to law school.” For Christmas, Adrien knew that Peter had gifted Suluu with what was easily the weirdest gift Adrien had ever heard of. He hadn’t even known it was possible. Nonetheless, Peter had started crafting a fake family history for Suluu at some point, weaving her into the world bit by bit, and for Christmas he had given her a birth certificate. A real birth certificate, naming Suluu as Suluu Khepri, born unto Ira and Rahu Khepri twenty years ago, both parents now tragically deceased. Adrien had never seen a kwami more delighted. She’d cried happy tears for hours, then begun looking into schooling opportunities.

It made Adrien feel all the more grateful to be human, to be alive. He had someone else’s dream life, the one they dreamed of having, and he couldn’t let it go to waste. Not that wasting it was something he was doing at the moment. In fact, since Ladybug’s love confession, he’d been living life to the absolute fullest with reckless abandon.

“Hey Su.” He cast the quick greeting in her direction.

“Marchons! Marchons! Qu’un sang impur abreuve nos sillons!” Suluu chanted and it took Adrien a solid moment to realize she was quoting the national anthem. Like miraculous user, like kwami, Adrien could never tell where their minds were at.

“There’s a tune that goes along with that, you know. It’s not just a chant about watering furrows with impure blood,” he informed her.

“It’s a war song, I can sing it however I want,” Suluu declared, still not raising her eyes from the book that was bigger than her tiny kwami body. “Plus, nowhere in here does it say I have to sing La Marseillaise correctly, it just says, quote, ‘the national anthem is-’”

“Believe it or not, but I’m actually rather familiar with your constitutional rights, thank you. It’s generally a good thing to be aware of if I’m a superhero.”

“If anyone ever takes Chat Noir to court, I’d be more than happy to represent you.”

“You’re not certified.”

“I never said I’d represent you well.” She glanced up from her book, beak turning upwards into a smile. “I just said I’d be happy to.”

“Great, well, I’ll keep that in mind.” Suluu was so talkative and willing to engage, the complete opposite of Plagg who usually only spoke to Adrien to complain. It was easy to forget that Suluu was a little sun god who was millions of years old and not, in fact, a teenager like himself just trapped in a bird body. He had a tendency to ignore it whenever she was in human form, but now, in her kwami form, she served him a friendly (and mildly unsettling) reminder.

“Interesting,” Peter said aloud. “Very interesting indeed.”

“You’re not actually watching nature videos, are you?” Adrien guessed.

“Correct, and quite frankly I’m surprised you bought that in the first place,” Peter responded. “I’m on a stakeout.”

“A stakeout?”

“Yes, and I think it’s time.” Peter flipped right side up, sending his mask away to reveal his flushed face to Adrien. “Call your lady, it’s about time I told you all the truth.”

“About the Papillon?” Ladybug said in Adrien’s ear as he ran across Paris’s rooftops.

“I don’t know,” Adrien confessed, dodging a pigeon. “He said he was going to tell the truth, and I can’t think of anything else he would need to tell us.”

“His identity, maybe,” Ladybug mused.

“Good guess, Buginette, but I already know that.”

“Right. Then I guess it must be the Papillon’s identity.”

“Well, he went to go talk to Master Fu to clear something up, probably to tell him that he was about to tell us so we’ve probably got a few minutes at least.”

“He must think the Papillon is planning something. Why else would he tell us this out of the blue? Maybe he’s figured out that the Papillon is planning an attack on Paris.” Her voice was no longer just through his staff as the duo landed on the same rooftop. Ladybug snapped her yoyo shut, brow drawn.

“What if,” she braved, “what if the Papillon discovered his identity?”

“Spiderman is way too careful for that kind of thing. If he so much as suspected that the Papillon knew his identity, we would’ve been taking him down already. I mean, Spidey’s whole logic is centred around telling us things at precisely the right moment, right? Maybe this is just the right moment.”

“I guess it is ideal since we’re good now, and Christmas akumatizations are over, so now the ball is in our court. That’s a smart theory, chaton.”

“Smart enough to earn me a kiss?” Adrien prompted, leaning forward.

“I guess,” she rolled her eyes in playful annoyance before melting into his arms. Of course, they didn’t have long to enjoy each other’s presence before they were rudely interrupted.

“Can you two not keep your hands to yourselves whenever you’re together? Is that what this is?” Spiderman said as he landed. “Because I am not trying to be an active part of this relationship. I have lived in blissful ignorance of your sex lives and I am not trying to break that trend now!”

“We were just kissing,” Adrien said, glaring at his friend.

“Okay, kissing, whatever. Look, I have reason to believe that the Papillon is going to try and lure Ladybug and Chat Noir into a trap sometime soon, mainly because I hacked into his house’s security system and have been keeping tabs on him, but the main point is the trap. He’s planning on taking two hostages and threatening their lives until Ladybug and Chat Noir give up their miraculous. Fortunately for us and unfortunately for the Papillon, the two target hostages are safe and sound.”

“Who are they?” Ladybug narrowed her eyes and began to pace, obviously stressed out.

“Adrien Agreste and Peter Parker.” Adrien’s head snapped up at his words, but Spiderman seemed unfazed. “However, as you can see, Adrien is right here with us, and Peter Parker has been safely relocated elsewhere. Now comes time to get to the root of this.”

Spiderman took a deep breath, turning away from the both of them and looking out at the Eiffel Tower in the distance. Adrien’s own hot breath fogged in the air.

“It’s time I told you the identity of the Papillon,” Spiderman said finally. Adrien was suddenly nervous. Why was he nervous? He was going to find out who the bad guy was, that was a good thing, was it not? He needed to know before they could stop him, obviously.

“Okay,” Ladybug said. “Let’s hear it.”

But Spiderman wasn’t looking at Ladybug. He was staring straight at Adrien.

“Chat, Adrien, I want you to know that I tried everything.” Spiderman came closer to Adrien, stopping only a foot away. “I want you to know that I tried getting through to him, but I just couldn’t. I told him to think of you, I told him this wasn’t the way to go, but he didn’t listen, and I’m so so sorry.”

Adrien could barely focus on Spiderman’s words. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears as his breath became erratic. Spidey was poking at the sleeping dragon of a truth Adrien ignored, one he didn’t want to admit to himself. But it made sense, didn’t it? It always made sense in the end, as much as he didn’t want it to.

“I tried so hard to save him. And I’ll keep trying. But I want you to know that it was never supposed to be him. All I ever wanted was to protect you, even from the truth. But now I have to protect you in a different way. If you don’t recognize it now, if you try to block this truth out, it’ll put us all in danger.”

“No,” Adrien said firmly, tears beginning to blur the corners of his vision. “You’re wrong. You’re lying!” He yelled. He was angry because he knew Spidey was right. Angry at himself for never realizing.

Then Spiderman did the one thing Adrien had never expected him to do, at least not in front of Ladybug.

Spiderman removed his mask.

He heard Ladybug’s small gasp beside him, but he didn’t so much as spare her a glance because Peter’s eyes were full of tears too. Peter was staring at him like he could feel Adrien’s anguish, and maybe he could.

“The day I went to Alya’s…,” Peter said slowly. “That’s when I found out. And I wish I was lying, Adrien. I really, really do.”

“Gabriel Agreste,” Ladybug said, her tone one of insidiously dawning comprehension. “Gabriel Agreste is the Papillon. Your dad,” she turned to Adrien, “is the Papillon.”

He couldn’t move, couldn’t nod, anything. Adrien was frozen.

And once again he was struck by how funny it all was. The irony of it, really. The way his world took only the slightest of pushes to go spinning out of orbit once more. Just when he thought he’d got it all figured out, once again that precious stability had evaded his grasp once again. And Adrien was mad.

“God…” he let out a strangled sound of anger. “Goddamn it! Goddamn him!” He whirled on the spot, seething and crying at the same time. Why did it have to be him. Why was it always him? Was it so selfish of him to just wish for once that life would pick on someone else?

“I wish that was everything,” Peter said softly. Adrien felt Ladybug slip a reassuring hand into his, rubbing circles on the back of his hand.

“There’s more?” Adrien was surprised his voice didn’t crack from how hoarse it had gotten.

“Your mother isn’t dead.”

Forget a slight push off of orbit, Adrien felt like a meteor had smashed his world to smithereens. Flashes of the funeral, when they’d buried an empty casket, blinked through his mind. How much unnecessary pain had he endured?

“She’s not dead, but your dad has her kept in a sort of suspended life tank in the hopes that when he gets both miraculous, he can revive her. I’ll tell you right now, he can’t.” Peter, ashamed, didn’t seem to be able to look Adrien in the eye. “I’ve studied the miraculous these past few weeks, I’ve seen her condition, there’s nothing we can do. All I could do was get the peacock miraculous away from Nathalie before she could wind up the same way.”

Nathalie, Mayura, of course. How had Adrien been so blind? She’d had many of the same symptoms as a his mother before her death. From the peacock miraculous, that leaked unrestrained magic into her. The one that Peter had fixed.

“There’s no way to-” he began, but Peter silenced him with a sad shake of his head.

“Part of me being Helios is that I can-” he looked like he was going to be sick “-sense death, in a way. Phoenixes are associated with death, and my kwami could feel how weak her life force was, and I could feel it in Nathalie too.”

“You’ve seen her?” Ladybug said. She was crying too.

“I didn’t know what I would find, otherwise I never would have gone looking. Adrien, I can never apologize enough. You don’t deserve this.”

His mom was alive, yet beyond saving. His dad and Nathalie were evil. Why was life so determined to be cruel to him? He’d wanted to live a poetic life, in the end, but not this sort. Not one that left him confused and questioning and alone, always so alone.

Adrien had spent his whole life alone while surrounded by people. The ones he thought he could trust were no more than smoke and mirrors that dissipated and broke, only to leave him clutching to the shattered remnants of the lies they’d told him. He’d always wanted to be taken out of the dark he was left in, but now the light of the truth was blinding and he had nowhere he could hide.  

He did the only thing he still knew how to do. He ran.

Adrien ran and ran, all the way home, barrelled into his room and grabbed as many things as he could, stuffing them all into the backpack that Peter had given him before he took off running once more.

He couldn’t put enough distance between him and that godforsaken house with its godforsaken occupants. A small part of his mind wondered if Ladybug and Spidey were looking for him. Another part of him didn’t care, and wanted to get as far away as possible.

Adrien barely registered reaching the airport. He barely registered purchasing a ticket and boarding a plane. He felt nothing but a lost and confused numbness, and he didn’t even know where he was going.

The only important thing was that it wasn’t where he was right now. He’d live a life surrounded by people yet still alone for the rest of his life and be content with it, so long as he left behind the life where he was surrounded by evil yet still good. Everyone was a little bit evil, he’d realized this long ago, yet he hadn’t been able to recognize real evil when it was right in front of him. His own father, attempting to ravage the city on a weekly basis out of the anger of his heart and Adrien, never so much as realizing. Maybe he’d make it far enough to live in the dark once more. Maybe ignorance was bliss.

When he got off the plane, Adrien made his way to the only other place he knew. Somehow he knew the way, and night had fallen by the time he reached his destination.

A tired hand knocked on the door as his tears started anew. He was alone, he was scared, and he had nowhere else to go. Thank god the door opened.

“Adrien?” May asked. “What are you doing here?”