Hello! I'm sorry to have been distracted from Sparks, but I had another idea and this one has been absolutely demanding my attention. It's darker than the other, and is written in an entirely different vein. The two stories are unrelated, beyond the shared source material. And yes, Adrien is kind of an idiot in this one. Depression doesn't lend itself to rational thought. And apologies in advance-it's very long and I wasn't shy with the foul language. Eh, sorry, not sorry. Consider yourself warned. ;)

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Plagg watched as Adrien wove in and out of traffic with precision, his music blaring and the city little more than a blur as it flashed by the windows. Finally leaving the congestion of the city behind, Adrien hit the accelerator and shifted more aggressively than necessary. His speedometer kept climbing well past what was safe, but he didn't notice or care. He just shifted again and kept going until the whine of the engine told him that he was pushing it too far.

Given that he was behind the wheel of a late model Audi R8, this was saying something. He eased his foot off of the gas, and let his speed drop.

Ladybug watched in confusion as the gunmetal grey Audi sped away from the city. She'd recognized Adrien's car, sitting in traffic, while out on patrol, and had followed him on a whim. He'd been distant recently, and more often than not had declined invitations to hang out with his friends, even Nino. She knew she should respect his privacy, but curiosity and concern had won out. Now, she had more questions than answers. Where the hell was he going?

She idly swung her yoyo on its cord, as she considered waiting for him. There wasn't much to consider. Unless she was willing to sit there all night, and hope that he would come back the same way he'd left—which she wasn't—there was nothing for her to do but to complete her patrol and head home.

And so she did.

Adrien had learned to drive at age 16, at his father's behest. It had surprised him, at the time, that his father would want him to learn such a thing. Apparently, Gabriel's PR manager had sad that it would do the company's image good to see the face of its label driving himself around. And so, it became another skill that the elder Agreste had deemed necessary for his perfect, model son to acquire.

Plagg deemed Gabriel an idiot, but that was neither here nor there.

Adrien hadn't argued. He had embraced learning that new skill unreservedly and had become an adept driver quickly. Since then, he'd been driving himself around, albeit with either Nathalie or Gorilla in constant attendance. It had afforded him a measure of freedom and control that had been largely absent in most other areas of his life, and brought him a measure of joy as well.

When he turned 18, he could finally get on the road without his babysitters. By that time, Adrien's desire for freedom had well out-paced his acquisition of that commodity. When he moved out of his father's house 9 months later, the sudden freedom had been heady. Now, though, he felt restless and reckless in a way that not even his nightly outings as Chat Noir could disperse. More and more often, he sought the release of racing down the highway at breakneck speed, music blasting, and his whole mind focused on controlling the car.

It wasn't a permanent fix, not by a long shot. Plagg had pointed out, more than once, that Adrien would be better served to confront his demons, rather than running from them, and further, that his chosen pastime was likely to get someone killed—most likely, himself.

That did not phase Adrien as it should have.

It was not that he was youthfully, foolishly assured of his own invincibility. No; his time as Chat Noir had shown him that he was not. Nor was it that he wanted to die, and he most assuredly did not want to hurt anyone else. But such was his pain that he was numbed to those considerations, and so he drove.

Plagg sighed as the speedometer leveled off at a still-dangerous 200kmph, and tucked himself back in his secret pocket to wait for Adrien to head home.

The next morning, Marinette looked for Adrien in their shared algebra class, but he never showed. This was highly unusual. He'd been flaking on their group, but he hadn't once missed class, not even when he was sick. He'd arrived late, he'd been surly and taciturn, but he'd been there. That he missed the entire class made her worry spike.

Marinette packed her things away in her bag, and headed for a café on campus to study until time for her next class. Twenty minutes later, she threw down her pencil, grabbed her phone, and texted Nino.

::M:: Hey, did Adrien come home last night?

::N:: Not that I saw. Why?

::M:: He wasn't in class.

::N:: Shit, let me go look in his room.

::N:: He's passed out in his bed.

::N:: I can't believe I didn't hear him snoring.

::M:: Haha, ok. Thanks.

::N:: (thumbs up emoji)

Marinette put her phone away with a sigh, and wondered again where he had gone the night before. At least she knew he was safe. She really ought to get back to studying, but she couldn't concentrate. Her gut told her that something was wrong, and the feeling had been growing for some time. She couldn't put her finger on what it was, but she'd learned to trust her gut.

Marinette was a few months into her first year at University. She had graduated from Lycée with honors, in spite of her frequent tardiness and absences. Her transcript and design portfolio together had garnered her a full scholarship to a prestigious arts program in Paris. That scholarship, coupled with the modest funds her parents had set aside for her, allowed her to focus on her studies without needing to manage a part-time job as well. Given that she already had a job on the side, this was very good, indeed.

By some miracle, they'd all decided to attend the same school. So, even though they were all pursuing very different fields of study, they still saw each other regularly. They even had a few classes together. Alya was in her history class, and Adrien was in her algebra class.

It was going well so far, especially since it had actually become easier to balance being Ladybug with her personal life. She had more control over her time, and had fewer people to answer to. That might change soon, since the two girls were discussing the possibility of getting an apartment together for the next semester, and it would be even harder to hide her secret from Alya if they lived together. Still, it would be worth it to have her best friend so close. And who knew, it might even be worth it to let the blogger in on her secret—so long as it didn't end up on the Ladyblog.

Unfortunately, if it had gotten easier for Marinette, it had gotten harder for Adrien. She didn't know all of the details, but it seemed that Gabriel had continued trying to control every aspect of his son's life, even after Adrien attained his majority. It hadn't ended well, and now father and son were entirely estranged. Gabriel had replaced Adrien as the face of the Agreste line, and Adrien pretended that he had no father at all.

Marinette sighed again, and pulled out her sketchbook. If she couldn't study, at least she could draw.

In an apartment not far from campus, Adrien lay staring at his ceiling. Nino had tried to be quiet, but his surprised laugh had been enough to rouse the former model. Now he was awake, he was aware that he had missed class, and he was miserable.

In the grand scheme, one missed class was not the end of the world. It would not cost him the class, and it would not cost him his enrollment in the school. But his enrollment was vital; he could not afford to let school slide.

Literally. Adrien scrubbed his hands over his face, and thought back over the last several months despondently.

His father had not just cut him off; he had disowned him, because Adrien would no longer bow to his wishes.

Thankfully, his mother had left a trust fund for him, and he was wealthy enough in his own right that his father could not manipulate him financially.

And he had tried. That was the source of the rift.

Adrien had been completely blind-sided when he was approached by a lawyer shortly after his eighteenth birthday. Gabriel had known about the fund, of course, but had conveniently kept the knowledge from his son in the hopes that Adrien would continue to be dependent on his father. If the lawyer hadn't contacted him, he'd still be in the dark and jumping to his father's every whim.

There was a catch, though. Adrien had full access to the fund—which had grown significantly since his mother had created it for him, and it had been a huge sum to begin with—but his mother's will stipulated that he must attend some sort of post-secondary school after graduating from Lycée. Otherwise, he would not be able to use it until he turned 21. This was not itself a problem; he had intended to go to University regardless. But it stung that even his mother was trying to control him.

It stung even more that his father had attempted to block his admission to University, to block his access to the fund and render him dependent once more. Fortunately, the school's administration had flatly refused to be cowed by Gabriel Agreste. It wasn't often that someone dared to defy him. That Adrien was now doing so on a regular basis, and that the school had sided with Adrien over himself, had left Gabriel incandescent with rage. He had delivered an ultimatum: either fall in line, or leave.

Adrien left.

Gabriel retaliated, quickly and viciously. He disowned his son, and replaced him as the face of the Agreste label. He wasted no time in expunging every last image of Adrien from each and every marketing campaign, at great cost to the company. This served to make the rift very public indeed, and initially, he couldn't poke his nose outside without being inundated by the press.

Publicly, Adrien gave no indication that he cared, or even noticed what his father had done. Not even to his friends. Privately, the abandonment and betrayal burned. He wasn't a son to his father; he was barely even a person. He was a possession, a pawn.

It was all he had ever been.

It wasn't Ladybug's night to go on patrol, but she went anyway, in the hopes that the physical activity would help her to burn through some of her anxiety. She was too restless to stay home. After transforming, she tried to call Chat, so that they could meet up, but he didn't answer. Maybe he was running behind? With a shrug, she decided to get started. It wasn't a bad idea to run two separate patrols, anyway. They tried to avoid being predictable, and that was as good a way to mix things up as any.

She was about an hour into the patrol when she found Chat Noir. He'd clearly come out for his patrol, and found a bit of action along the way. There were two women trapped at the end of an alley, one of whom was lying awkwardly on the ground, with her head resting in the other's lap. In the middle of the alley, Chat was toying with two men. Chat could easily handle two normal men on his own; if they were still fighting, it was because Chat wanted to draw it out.

Ladybug dropped down into the alley near the women, her yoyo swinging. "Chat, stop playing with the mice!"

"Ladybug, oh dieu merci!"

She turned toward the voice, and found two tear-streaked faces regarding her expectantly. "Are you both ok?"

The one kneeling shook her head. "I'm ok, just a bit of a bump on the head. Amelie twisted her ankle when they knocked us down. She can't put any weight on it!"

Her voice had an edge of hysteria to it, and Ladybug responded immediately by kneeling in front of them and putting a comforting hand on each of them. "It's going to be ok, now. I am going to call this in to the police, and they will send an ambulance. Can you wait here a little longer?"

Both women nodded, and she gave them each a reassuring pat before standing and moving a few steps away to phone the police. She watched as Chat continued to tease the attackers, surprised that he was still drawing it out. It took only about a minute to notify the police. When she finished, she flicked out her yoyo, binding both men in its cord and yanking them both back into a jumbled heap at her feet.

"Sit, and stay," she told the two men. They ignored her, and began struggling against the cord. She shrugged, knowing that they would not escape, and looked at her partner. He stood a few feet away, his staff slung across his shoulders, his arms hooked over either end, and a fake smile on his handsome face. "What's with you tonight, Chat?"

"I was only keeping them busy until the cavalry arrived."

She frowned at him. "There was no cavalry coming, until I called them. And you had no way of knowing that I would show up tonight."

His only response was a shrug, and she let it go at that. She could hear sirens approaching, and knew that they would need to give their statements to the police before they could leave. They could talk after they finished cleaning up this mess.

They finished their patrol in silence. Ladybug wanted to wait until she could give him her full attention, and Chat was glad for the reprieve. They were not far from the Arc de Triomphe when they finished. It was as good a place as any for a private conversation, so she swung her way to the top and sat with her feet hanging over the edge. She could see the Eiffel Tower to the south, lit up against the night sky.

Chat landed lightly behind her, but didn't sit. She heard him pace to the other end of the monument.

"Come sit with me, Chat." He didn't respond, and she turned to see that he was staring pensively out over the city, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "Chat?"

Adrien heard her calling his name, and he sighed. "I don't think I can do this anymore."

She gaped at him, sure that she'd misheard. "I—I'm sorry?"

He finally turned, and met her eyes. "I can't be Chat Noir anymore."

Filled with sudden panic, she leapt to her feet and crossed to where he stood, her hands on her hips. "Why would you say that?"

"You saw me tonight. I was knocking those guys around just because I could. "

"So? You didn't really hurt either of them!"

"I wanted to," he said quietly. He had set her back on her heels again, he could see. But she rallied.

"No. I don't believe it. You wouldn't!" She laid a hand on his forearm, and squeezed gently. "That's not who you are."

"You have no idea who I am." He scoffed, shaking off her hand. "You never wanted to know."

Ladybug recoiled from the venom in his voice, startled and frightened by the change in his manner. For a moment, he reminded her of Adrien, who had been snarling like this for months. She gritted her teeth angrily, determined not to let another friend drift away from her. Especially not this friend.

"I may not know your name, Chat Noir, but I know you. Don't do this. Don't push me away. We're a team, damnit!" She stamped her foot for emphasis, tears glistening in her eyes. "Whatever is going on, let me help!"

His face had softened as she spoke. He hadn't expected this reaction, hadn't expected her to object so vehemently. He stepped closer to her, invading her space. For once, she held her ground, rather than shying away. He was surprised again. As close as they'd become over the years, she'd always maintained a certain distance in their relationship. He'd all but given up on ever having more than this with his partner, but her proximity, her willingness to be so close to him, brought those old desires dangerously close to the surface.

He raised a hand to her cheek, and drew one leather-clad finger down her jaw. Her lips parted, and he saw anger give way to something else. Shaken, and suddenly afraid of what that something might be, he stepped away from her.

Marinette released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Chat, I don't know what's wrong, and I can't know unless you tell me." He said nothing, and she swung away from him in frustration. "I—I have this friend. We've known each other for a while now, and I thought that we were close. But then something happened, and he's…changed. He's pulling away from me, from all of us, and I am so worried about him! And there's nothing I can do, because he won't talk to me or anyone else. And now you—" She spun back to face him, then threw her arms around his waist and buried her face against his chest. "Chat, you—I won't let you push me away. You mean too much to me."

He stood in shock for a few beats, stunned to feel her arms lashed tightly around him at a time when they hadn't just almost died. Then he wrapped his arms around her, and propped his cheek on the top of her head, trying to process what she'd said. He felt torn between jealousy of the nameless man who had so carelessly discarded her friendship, and a budding hope that perhaps she felt more for him than he thought. They stood like that, wrapped tightly around each other, for several minutes. Her warmth seeped into him, and it felt like a balm to his soul. "Ok," he finally said.

She pulled back without releasing him to look at his face, and he saw that a single tear had escaped to make its way down her cheek. "Ok?"

He brushed the tear away with his thumb. "Ok. I won't try to push you away."

She smiled. "Ok."

They sat quietly together on top of the monument for more than an hour, simply holding one another, and watching the stars track across the sky. She'd pulled him down next to her, and then had promptly scooted against him to lean her head on his shoulder. She'd surprised him again with her show of affection, but he was not complaining. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and clung to her until his Miraculous began to beep.

Marinette lifted her head sleepily, and smiled. "You're about to ding."

"Yeah. I should go."

"Me, too."

They stood, a little awkwardly, and readied their respective tools. "Hey, Chat? Can you patrol with me, tomorrow?"

"As you wish, milady." He grinned, feeling more like himself than he had in ages. "I'll see you at the Tower."

Marinette had been falling asleep on Chat's shoulder when his Miraculous had sent them both home, but now that she was tucked into her bed, she couldn't sleep.

'Milady,' he'd said.

When was the last time he'd called her that? When was the last time he'd called her Bugaboo, or used any of her other nicknames? Why had he stopped, and how had she not noticed?

With a low growl, she threw back the covers and strode from her bed to her desk. She clicked on the lamp there, and pulled out her sketchbook. Mostly, it was full of design ideas, but it was peppered here and there with drawings of the people in her life. Earlier that afternoon-nope, scratch that-yesterday afternoon, she had drawn Adrien. Now, she couldn't stop thinking about Chat. She began to sketch him at the bottom of the page, just as she had seen him that night: standing stiffly away from her, his eyes distant.

Had Chat steadily been slipping away from her, just like Adrien? She'd noticed that he had become more reserved around her, but if she thought about it at all, she'd chalked it up to his finally gaining some maturity. She wracked her brain, thinking back over the last several months, and tried to recall every detail of their interactions. Certainly, he'd never told her of any problems or difficulties. But-that, in and of itself, was telling.

Everyone has problems. And once upon a time, he'd shared his with her. When had he stopped? And how could she have possibly been so oblivious, that she completely missed his withdrawal?

She paused in her drawing to survey what she'd done, and on seeing again the sketch at the top of the page, she gasped. Adrien. She'd been so preoccupied with worrying over Adrien, whose woes were so very public, that she'd been blind to her partner's quiet misery.

"Oh, Chat," she whispered, drawing a finger over his likeness. "I'm so sorry."

The next morning, Adrien merged onto the highway, relieved to see that there was little traffic on the road. He hit the gas, and lost himself to driving. This time, though, he didn't feel compelled to push his engine to its limits. He eased back on the gas at around 150 kmph, and kept it there. He was still going too fast, for sure, but he just didn't feel quite so driven today.

He laughed to himself at the pun, and Plagg poked his head out of his shirt. "Are you laughing?"

"Perhaps a bit."

"And you're going at a slightly less idiotic pace than you usually do."

"So I am."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain spotted Lady, would it?"

"It might."

"You're such a sap."

"Shut up, Plagg."

"I'm glad."

Adrien glanced his kwami with raised eyebrows.

"Eyes on the road!"

Adrien laughed again. "Relax, you scaredy cat."

"It's not me I'm worried about," the tiny cat muttered.

"Why Plagg, you're being downright sentimental this morning!"

"I am not! If you get yourself killed, where am I going to get my camembert?"

"Uh-huh. We'll go with that."

Plagg muttered something about 'snarky cats' and disappeared into Adrien's pocket again, but he was smiling.

Adrien returned to Paris a few hours later, feeling better than he had in weeks. Months, even. The drive had allowed him to clear his head, and after the first 30 minutes or so, he had slowed still further so that he was no longer driving fast enough to get himself arrested.

Whether she knew it or not, Ladybug had thrown him a life line last night, and he had chosen to grasp it in both clawed hands. She cared. He'd assumed, before, that her distance meant that she didn't care about him, beyond his role as her akuma-fighting partner. And so he'd withdrawn from her, as he had from everyone else in his life. None of them had fought for him, but she had. And it made him wonder, if he had been wrong about her, could he have been wrong about his other friends?

'I have this friend...and I'm so worried about him...'

Ladybug's words still rang in his ears. He didn't think much of this "friend", but he felt strangely indebted to him. After all, whoever he was, he'd inspired Ladybug to fight for his friendship and so had given Adrien a second chance. He didn't intend to squander it.

He pulled smoothly into the parking garage beneath his apartment building, and headed up to his flat. Nino didn't have his own car, having chosen instead to rely on public transportation, so Adrien had no way of knowing whether his friend would be home until he got there. Still feeling buoyed, he let himself in and called up the hall to see if Nino was home, then continued on to the kitchen.

He'd just dropped his keys on the counter and started going through the mail when Nino joined him.

"Hey man, what's up?"

Adrien glanced up at Nino, and felt like scales had fallen from his eyes. His friend was regarding him with barely concealed concern, as well as a bit of trepidation. Merde, how did I miss that? He wondered to himself. He cleared his throat. "I went for a drive this morning. I just got back."

Ninos expression cleared a bit. "A drive? Where'd you go?"

There was an official-looking envelope with his name on it, and he started ripping it open. He shrugged. "Nowhere. I just...drove."

Nino nodded slowly, clearly not sure what to make of that.

"Maybe next time, I can take you with...me..." Adrien's words died as he read the letter in his hand, and then his hand began to shake.

"Adrien? You oka-"

"GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!" He exploded, shoving away from the counter.

"Whoa, dude, what just happened?"

"This!" Adrien waved the crumpled letter in front of him, and then stalked into their living room. "THIS is what fucking happened! That goddamn manipulative bastard!"

His father had frozen his accounts by contesting the legitimacy of his mother's legacy. Everything he had from her, which was literally everything he had, was now tied up by the suit, and he would not have access to any of it until the matter could be settled in court.

One moment, he had been one of the wealthiest men in Paris.

The next, he had nothing.

He felt the blood drain from his face, and he sat heavily on the couch. He had nothing. How was he going to continue paying for school? How would he pay his share of the rent? How would he make his car payment? What would he do?

Nino watched as his best friend sat frozen on their couch for a moment, then gently pulled the letter from his limp fingers. After scanning its contents, he cursed almost as foully as Adrien had.

Adrien didn't so much as twitch.

His face grim, Nino pulled out his phone and texted the girls. His message was simple, and to the point.

N: Adrien 112. Get here.

Marinette and Alya had just finished their shared history class and were headed to the cafe for coffees, when both of their phones buzzed. They laughed at the coincidence, and stopped to check their messages.

"Shit! Mari-"

"I know, I got the same message." Marinette looked at Alya's worried face, and knew that the same concern was reflected on hers. "Let's go."

Marinette worried the entire way to the guys' flat. She fretted, imagining scenario after scenario, each of them worse than the last. Alya had text back to let Nino know that they were en route, and to get more info, but Nino wouldn't say what had happened; only that Adrien was there, and needed them. This left a lot of room for speculation, and Marinette was a creative woman. By the time they arrived, she flew in to the apartment, half expecting to see Adrien's battered corpse on the floor.

What she didn't expect to see was Nino and Adrien wrestling on the floor.

She and Alya both stood frozen by the door, stunned by the sight that greeted them. Adrien was face down on the floor in front of the couch, his face red with exertion. Nino, his glasses askew, sat with one knee in his friends back, and Adrien's arm bent awkwardly behind him. As they watched, Adrien levered Nino off of him, and smoothly reversed their positions.

"What in the HELL?" Alya's sudden shriek caused both men to freeze, and look guiltily toward the women. "Get the fuck off of my boyfriend, Agreste."

With a last shove, he stood. "He wouldn't let me leave."

"Damn right, I wouldn't let you leave," Nino replied angrily. "You were going to run again, dude." His face softened, and concern replaced the anger. "You've gotta stop running. We're here for you. Talk to us."

Adrien was reminded forcefully of his conversation with Ladybug the night before, and all of his anger drained away. He visibly deflated.

Without taking his eyes from Adrien's face, Nino scooped up the letter and handed it to Alya. "Read this."

She took the paper curiously, and held it so that she and Marinette could read it together. Neither bothered to read the whole thing; they read only enough to figure out what had happened.

"Son of a bitch, that's low." Alya dropped the letter to the ground. "That's low, even for him."

Marinette just growled, low in her throat.

Adrien laughed hollowly, and dropped back onto the couch, propping his forearms on his knees and staring at his hands. "No, it's not. He's already disowned me."

Three sets of eyes widened in shock. "WHAT?"

He nodded miserably. "It wasn't enough to kick me out and purge my face from the label. He legally disowned me as well."

Nino moved to sit on the opposite end of the couch, throwing his arm along the back. Alya sat next to him, in the lee of his body, but close enough that she could put a hand on Adrien's arm.

"Adrien, why didn't you tell us?"

He shrugged, not looking up. "You didn't ask."

The three friends exchanged glances. "We-we were trying to give you your space, respect your privacy."

"The press were all over you. We figured that the last thing you wanted was for your friends to hound you as well."

Marinette, who had still been standing, rigid with fury, finally moved. She knelt on the floor in front of Adrien, sitting back on her feet, and firmly took his hands in hers. "Adrien," she said softly. "Adrien, look at me." She waited until he raised his eyes before continuing. "Did you think we didn't care?"

He didn't answer, but he didn't have to. It was written on his face.

"Dude, how could you think that?"

Adrien shrugged again.

She closed her eyes for a moment, cursing herself for her failure to be the friend that he needed. When she opened them again, he'd lowered his gaze to their joined hands.

"I don't know what I'm going to do. I-" He stopped, and swallowed thickly. "Until this is over, I have nothing."

"Bullshit." Alya had pulled her hand back, and was staring at him with her arms crossed over her chest. First, and most importantly, you have us. And you can bet your trust fund that we aren't going to let you push us away again."

Adrien laughed again, more genuinely this time.

"Second, you have a lawyer. Call him."

"But I can't pay-"

Alya interrupted him. "Yes, you can. There's no way that the courts are going to side with your dad on this."

"And dude, whatever else you're worried about, we'll handle it. Even if the worst happens, and that bastard somehow wins, it'll be ok."

Marinette squeezed his hands, and he looked at her again. "Just...don't shut us out. We..." She glanced at Nino and Alya, and back to Adrien. "We love you. Don't shut us out."

Marinette was exhaused, but it didn't even cross her mind to back out on patrol that night. If anything, she was looking forward to it. After the days' revelations, she needed the fresh air and the distraction. Not to mention that she was looking forward to spending time with Chat, even if she did owe him an apology for being so blind.

When she arrived at the Eiffel Tower, he was already there, sprawled on a cross-beam two thirds of the way up, as only a cat could be. She swung up to join him, a smile on her lips.

"Hello, chaton."

He flicked a glance at her. "Ladybug."

She frowned, stung by his cold manner. "Chat? Is everything ok?"

"No. But, I don't want to talk about it. Let's just get started on this patrol."

"Chat-!"

But he had already leapt from his perch. Dismayed, she jumped after him, working her way back down the Tower.

They worked silently through the city, much as they had the night before. Marinette was once again overwhelmed with worry, but for now, she chose to respect his desire to leave it alone. Finally, when they had made a full circuit of the city, she followed him back up the Tower. This time, rather than stopping at a random cross beam, he went all the way to the observation deck at the top.

This suited Marinette just fine.

Adrien stood at the railing of the deck, staring out over the city. She stood next to him, her arms crossed over her chest and her hip hitched against the rail next to his hand. She watched him for a full minute, before speaking.

"You're doing it again."

"I know."

"Don't shut me out, Chat."

Don't shut us out...

He glanced at her, frowning. "I've been hearing that a lot lately."

"Then you obviously need to hear it."

He made a non-committal sound in his throat, and went back to looking out over the city. He heard her sigh beside him, and ignored it.

He had no idea why he wasn't talking to her. The words were there, churning just below the surface, but he couldn't bring himself to voice them. He closed his eyes, willing the mass of pain down, away from where it hovered on his tongue. He probably ought to just leave, but he craved her company as much as he feared it.

Marinette had nearly undone him that afternoon; Ladybug had the power to destroy him utterly.

Marinette stayed where she was for several long minutes, waiting for him to speak. When he didn't, she sighed again, and moved to stand behind him. He stiffened almost imperceptibly when she moved. When she laid her cheek on his back, and wrapped her arms around his waist, his body turned to granite.

"If you don't want to talk then listen," she began quietly. "I don't know what happened today, that you're pulling away again, but I will not let you do it. I'm sorry, so sorry that I didn't see it before. I'm sorry that I didn't see your pain, and that I wasn't there for you. But I see you, now, Chat. Whatever it is, I'm here." She tightened her arms around his waist, and turned her face so that it pressed into his back. "I won't let you go."

Slowly, very slowly, he felt himself begin to relax. He released his death grip on the rail and laid an arm over hers.

"I feel like I'm drowning."

He felt her arms clutch tighter, but she said nothing.

"Things...changed for me several months ago. Today, it got worse. My friends, they're trying to help, but...it feels hopeless."

Ladybug pulled her arms away, and tugged on his hip to turn him around. He let her move him, and leaned back against the rail, facing her.

She looked at him, her eyes luminous behind the mask. She still had the fingers of one hand hooked through the belt at his hip; with the other, she cupped his face. "It's never hopeless, chaton."

Something inside him shattered. Without rational thought, he put his hands to either side of her face and kissed her. The dam had broken, and suddenly everything he'd tried to stifle came pouring out of him, not in words, but in his kiss. Her lips were warm and pliant, and once she recovered from her surprise, she began to kiss him back. She slid her arms around his neck to anchor herself, and when she felt his tongue at the seam of her lips, she opened to him. His tongue dipped into her mouth, tangling with hers.

Swept away by the passion that had flared between them, he lashed his arms around her, and lifted her against him. In response, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he staggered forward, bracing a hand against the Tower. She tore her mouth away on a gasp, breathing his name and beginning to kiss her way to his jaw.

That soft sound was all it took for him to return to himself. He set her away from him and backed away in horror. Dazed by passion and confused by his sudden retreat, she could only watch in bewilderment as he turned without a word and disappeared into the night.