Marinette wakes up at 1:01, like she does most nights.
And, like most nights, she thinks. She remembers.
"I want to ask you something," she says. It's a question, but she isn't asking it.
Adrien smiles, and prompts her on with a casual, "Shoot."
Marinette hesitates. "Are we friends?"
And he looks at her with steady green eyes, but the smile never wavers. "Of course. You know nothing will ever change that."
She wanted to change that, years ago. They did. It changed back.
She's happy. "Good."
He chuckles, tells her she's getting sentimental over Payday Parfait. She tells him she can't help it.
Marinette's happy, but she still asks questions, because she can't tell if she really is anymore.
"The people in Paris can be so emotional," Chat Noir says as he lands beside Ladybug, and leans over to her. "Don't you agree, m'lady?"
Ladybug pushes him back with a finger to his chest. "Did you forget yourself?"
"Alas, I will forget everything else when I'm around you," he says, falling to his knees and throwing his hands out.
Ladybug puts her hands on her hips. Chat has always been forward, but he's become more poetic in the last few months.
The same months that Le Papillon chose to fight them on the front lines, every few weeks. Today – a good day, Ladybug thinks – he doesn't come out, and instead has three Akumatized citizens fight for him.
Ladybug wants to think that even when the fighting gets tougher, they get tougher, too. Things have changed, inside and out, but fighting always stays the same. It's always the hardest part.
Ladybug and Chat agree things have gotten harder – but Ladybug thinks of Marinette, and Chat thinks of Ladybug. In the end, they both fight only for Paris.
Because Ladybug is the hero, Chat Noir is the romantic, and they both save the people before they save themselves.
"What can I say? I love a good rom-com!"
"They'll start calling you the Runaway Bride or something."
"Sure, if I get Akumatized."
They both laugh, and Marinette watches Adrien while his eyes close and his face lights up. It's dangerous, because they've already put that behind them and because she's driving and he's distracting.
He used to drive them. Things change.
This time, it's because Adrien – who had gotten his license in secret, against his father's wishes – risked his life and the family car to drive Ladybug across the icy evening streets to save Chat Noir from The Blizzardress. It ended as expected.
So, it's Marinette's fault. Adrien doesn't know this, but she does.
Still, that's the second reason she won't hesitate to drive Adrien anywhere. Above all, she just wants every excuse to still be around him.
She runs the red, and her tiny gasp makes him laugh again.
She doesn't mind; she loves it when he's happy.
"But, y'know, Marinette?" She also loves the way he says her name. He makes it sound like wind chimes. "That just won't happen, 'cause you'll never get Akumatized."
Marinette's focused on the road now. "Everyone gets Akumatized. Sometimes more than once."
"Not you. You're special like that."
"But-"
"Not in your lifetime," Adrien assures with a shake of his head. "I know you."
Marinette wants to argue, but Adrien's always been right when it comes to her. Besides, she likes how he knows he knows her.
She turns right. Carefully, because it's past midnight and Paris never sleeps. "Ladybug and Chat Noir have been taking it rough lately, huh?"
Adrien sighs; he's always had the softest spot for Ladybug, and though Marinette knew he wanted to, he never quite reconciled with how far out of reach she would always be. "Yeah. But they'll pull through, I promise."
"You promise?"
"Yeah," Adrien says, without missing a beat. "I dunno about Chat, but I know if there's people like Ladybug fighting for justice, they'll never lose." He shrugs. "That's what heroes are."
Marinette takes a moment to answer, because she doesn't know how to. She tries, "and you say I'm a sap for cliché."
He laughs again, and it takes more effort than she has to keep her eyes on the road. "Hey, you rubbed off on me."
If Marinette's honest, she knows she's reading too deep into the things Adrien says – she always did. But she wants to believe her habit, parts of her, will always live on in Adrien.
Maybe they'll remind him.
"You're one of the Ladybugs in the world, y'know," Adrien says after a quiet moment.
It's not the first time he's called her by the name of someone he wants more.
"As long as you're not any of the Chats," Marinette says. She reaches for the radio – the clock reading just after 1 – and tunes into a channel that plays old rock.
"I was just thinking of this song!" Adrien chirps, raising the volume.
Marinette wants to tell him she was, too, but she doesn't want it to sound like she's just saying it – not that Adrien would indict her on it, but she thinks it's better not to bother him anyway.
Instead, she says, "Hey, 101.0 always has the best tracks on."
"Yeah, our station, am I right?"
Well that's not fair, Marinette almost thinks, that Adrien can say things like that and it doesn't hurt him like it hurts her.
But she doesn't, because she sees the vivacity in his eyes and can't help but smile.
"Oh Savior of Paris and Savior of Me," Chat Noir croons, taking Ladybug's hand and brushing her knuckles. "Your eyes sparkle brighter than the evening sea."
This time, Ladybug doesn't pull away. "You know Chat, if you keep these sonnets up, I just might fall for you."
"I'll sing a thousand and one – "
"Don't push it," Ladybug quips quickly, but not unkindly, and takes her hand back.
He steps away, and looks out at the sky that goes on forever beyond them. At least something does.
"Ma cherie, there's a reason La Papillon will never control you."
Funny, that. Adrien mentioned something like that a few days ago.
But Ladybug is a hero, a persona, who doesn't choose one civilian over any others. She thinks of Chat instead.
"Why's that, ma mec?"
"You're pure of heart," he says, and there's a certainty that she rarely sees in him. It's gone as soon as he adds, "And you've kept mine captive for years!"
Ladybug doesn't know if that's true, but she knows, somewhere deep down, that if she ever was Akumatized, Chat Noir would free her, just like she freed him tonight, and just like she has and will free him every time he needs her.
She wonders if Adrien could – would – save her, but she remembers she's still Ladybug.
She wonders if Chat ever feels conflict like this, but then she glances over at him, and she knows that look in his eyes – she's seen it in Adrien's, and she's seen it in Chat's since the day they met.
He's in love with someone who's looking back.
Somehow, it makes her happy.
She humphs anyway. "Don't start making excuses, now. I need you to fight by my side."
He grins with feline pride, and bows theatrically. "I will, every time," he purrs before leaping off and dissolving into the night and, sooner or later, back into his own life.
Ladybug watches him go, but stays where she is. She still has some time, and it's almost 1 o'clock anyway.
Alone, she thinks.
When Alya texts Marinette that Adrien's fighting with "his belle fléau" over something he said, she's upset over it.
She can't help it; as much as Marinette wants to feel something else than empty and happy and thinking too often, she just can't take any solace in something that's a thorn to someone else. Be it someone who took her place or not.
When she sits at the – their – table outside the café, stirring around her melting dessert, she realizes it's the first time Adrien's ever missed Payday Parfait.
Things change.
She thinks – might as well, it's all she ever does these days – back to their first time ordering parfait with their first paychecks, their own hard-earned money and independence to waste and regret when they're not young anymore.
They'd get their pays every second week, and every second week they'd buy a parfait and sit at the same table to celebrate. After that, it just became a thing. So did they.
The next time she sees him, after class, he's apologising until they're outside. Marinette doesn't pry, but he's always liked sharing things with her. She's always liked that, too.
"She – ah, she says I talk about you too much," Adrien says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. He doesn't need to explain the rest; it ended as expected.
Marinette feels her throat fill up with something that feels like tightness and mist. She knows he's downplaying the situation, and she knows he's unhappy.
She thinks it's pretty much her fault.
"We can go today," Adrien suggests eagerly. "We'll even buy doubles. On me!"
But Marinette declines, makes some excuse about "a hundred-and-one things to do today!" and they compromise to buy seconds next time.
Marinette has a sinking feeling – one that keeps the tightness in her throat lingering – that missing Payday Parfait can easily become a new thing.
Things end. They did.
They're saving Chloe again, because heaven knows she's half the reason anyone gets Akumatized. Chat's once said that she should consider, "penning a manual called How To Villain-ise The City Your Father Runs 101, and send a signed copy to La Papillon."
Ladybug wonders if La Papillon has ever considered a sidekick.
It used to bother her, most things about Chloe. But Ladybug likes to think she's – Marinette's – grown past that now, or is just so used to it now it's like a pair of shoes you've finally learned to work with.
She finds solace, just for a moment, that some things don't change – even if they're the things you really don't mind changing.
"Meow-ch!" Chat yelps, jumping back and shaking the embers off his paws.
Ladybug throws the fire extinguisher – her lucky charm, though lately they've been on the nose – his way, then puts herself in The Heatwave's line of fire. "When I count to three – "
"Gotcha!" salutes Chat, and he charges his Cataclysm.
They're starting to read each other's minds before they even think anything – which is a stretch for Marinette these days.
They continue in that vein, working seamlessly around each other in battle, and it ends as expected.
They're down to a pair of minutes, and Chat does his little bit about wanting to know who Ladybug really is, because "he already knows her, he just wants to know her now, too."
Ladybug doesn't have to argue, doesn't get the chance; they feel the air rumble, and watch La Papillon descend upon Paris' sunset skies.
They share a look, and part ways as the masks fall off. They know the war is still raging, and if the wicked never rests, neither can the savior.
Ladybug – Marinette, now – runs the corner and cradles Tikki in her hands.
But she can't shake what Chat said; she wants to ask him so many things. She wants to know how he can stand to be around someone who doesn't feel the same.
She wants to know what he'd do if things became perfect, and then fell apart, and then went back to a routine that she used to be a part of instead of watching from the outside.
She shakes her head to shake the thought; if Marinette's going to become Ladybug again, she's going to have to think bigger than herself.
Paris needs its heroes.
When Marinette wakes, it feels like she never slept.
Her bones still ache from facing off La Papillon, and her head still aches from thinking about anything, and her heart still aches from the moment Adrien asked her to end them.
It all comes at her at once, and she isn't ready.
She cries into her pillow.
And even if, in the dead of night, she can finally let herself feel unhappy, she still can't well up with anger, or bitterness. It just doesn't come to her.
If she tries now – when she isn't Ladybug or Marinette surrounded by the people she worries more about than herself – she just thinks of Adrien, and his sadness pains her, and his happiness warms her.
She wonders about Chat Noir, if he feels like this. She doesn't like the thought of him crying, so she dries her eyes and hugs her pillow close.
She wonders how Adrien feels. But then, if it's not the same as her, it's the same things over again: she thinks, and her mind does pirouettes around those thoughts, and it ends as expected.
Marinette rolls over to her side and curls into her blankets. She thinks of Ladybug, who's the epitome of heroism and honor, who's a pillar of strength and justice.
Maybe for Ladybug, the fight is the hardest part, but for Marinette, it's the giving up.
She pushes her hand through her hair, and watches the empty night sky. Seeing that every night doesn't change, but that doesn't make it easier.
Still, life goes on, and Marinette goes with it, as does her heart.
She sighs, breathes in, and rolls over to check the time.
The clock reads 1:02.
A/N: Ah, misery, you come with heartbreak and midnight. It hurts me to see Marinette like this. She's so precious. Leave me with your thoughts, reader.
(Also, 1:01 was supposed to be some fancy metaphor of a zero/nothing/life coming between two people. It was originally 1:02, and I left a typo at the end, but that somehow signified moving on, so I left that last line as it was.)