"Chat Noir, look out!"

Chat Noir dodged the fist being thrown at his head, rolling under the legs of one of the girls in his college. Which, normally, wouldn't be possible, but she had grown considerably bigger under the influence of Hawkmoth and his akuma. She was larger and more muscular than a gorilla, let alone any grown man he had ever met, and if he was remembering her correctly, that was a dramatic change from the usual four-foot-eleven build of the twelfth year who had asked Adrien to sign an autograph one of the first days he had gone to school.

The completed roll left him crouching at Ladybug's side.

"Any ideas?" she asked.

They had already diverted the girl away from the center of the city, and Paris was catching on that running away from an akuma attack was a good plan, so the civilians were all out of the way. The tremendous girl wore what they considered to be a standard boxing costume—black shorts, a black cropped tank top, and a matching robe with her villain name across the back in gold lettering. Heavyweight.

"Nothing's cat-ching my eye yet, m'lady," Chat replied with a wink.

She furrowed her brow. Ladybug was anxious to end this fight. The girl—she was fairly sure she went by Lucie—was a decent fighter without the akuma. She was the older sister of Juleka, so sometimes her and Alya would meet up with her at the gym, where they would watch Lucie practice. Ladybug didn't know how much of the fighting was Hawkmoth's doing and how much was Lucie's own talent. The fact of it was that Heavyweight had come close to landing some good hits, and there was a bruise forming on Marinette's ribcage that proved that she had power behind them.

"Hand over your Miraculouses," she announced. With a roll of her shoulders and a skillful change in stance, the champion sent them a wicked grin. "And I'll promise not to crush all of Paris."

Heavyweight sprinted towards them, completely in attack mode. Ladybug and Chat Noir leapt in opposite directions, both pulling out their weapons. Heavyweight followed Chat Noir, so Ladybug whipped her yo-yo out, wrapped it around her ankle, and yanked.

She fell to the ground. A roar tumbled out of her mouth as the ground shook beneath her.

"She's a meow-ntain of trouble, m'lady. But I think I see where the akuma could be hiding."

"Where?"

"The gold pin on her jacket. It looks like two boxing gloves."

Ladybug's eyes lit up. "Good job, kitty!" He felt his face flush at the praise while she tossed her yo-yo high above her head. "Lucky charm!"

A large red and black spotted mass fell on top of her and she fell to the ground. "Oof!" With a chuckle, and a quick exclamation of, "Nice cat-ch!" Chat Noir pulled her to her feet.

"Shut up," she groaned, and lifted the item. It looked like… "A champion's belt?"

This one was easy to figure out. Tikki's usual red and black highlighted nudges in the right direction weren't even needed. The duo sent mild grins at each other. Chat volunteered to be the distraction, so he grabbed the belt and slung it around his waist.

"Hey Heavyweight! Bow down to my su-purr-ior tail-ent!"

The gargantuan blonde's attention swiveled to him and for a second, he forgot why in the world he would volunteer for this job. The corners of her mouth tugged down as she saw the championship belt around his waist and, remembering his duty, he waggled his hips to show it off.

She really didn't like that.

But it did that trick, and within minutes, the golden pin was broken, and the dark butterfly rose from its remains. All Chat could do was watch as his partner purified the akuma and performed the cure. The ladybug swarm magicked everything back to how it was before Hawkmoth corrupted Lucie. He held out his fist for his partner to bump, and it was done. Over.

Ladybug went over to handle crowd control, like she usually did. They had unspoken roles, and Chat Noir had no problem with that. The press, the mayor, law enforcement, and Alya were all her job. He made his way over to the ambulance, where Lucie was sitting. It was the usual deal—the paramedics always took the time to check over each of the akuma victims. They weren't hurt due to Ladybug's cure; nor could they remember what happened to them. But this time, Lucie had an oxygen mask over her face, and the medic was hovering above her.

"Is she alright?" he asked the woman, who nodded.

"She had a minor panic attack when she realized what had happened. We're giving her oxygen to help with that. Otherwise, she's in tip top shape."

"Do you mind if I talk to her?"

The woman shook her head and gathered her things, giving him a moment with Lucie.

"Chat Noir," she breathed, removing the oxygen mask. Her eyes were wide, searching, as she looked up at him, terror and guilt slathered over her features.

"It's Lucie, right?" he asked with a warm grin, and she bobbed her head in affirmation. With a wave to the paramedic, he plopped himself down less than gracefully next to her. This was his job, and he was proud of it. He hadn't needed to use his power during the fight, so Plagg would give him more than enough time to chat with the girl. Which was good, because she looked so small and scared.

"I believe this is yours," he said, and with a flourish, he dropped her pin in her outstretched hand. He watched her face carefully as she rubbed her thumb over the gold piece. She drew in a deep breath, and—

"I'm sorry!" she hiccupped, loudly, hysterically. Sobs racked her shoulders, and she folded in half so instantaneously. "I was just so…upset…and Nina and I fought…it was so dumb, and…and…and…"

Chat wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. "Look, Lucie, no matter how you felt before Hawkmoth sent his akuma to you, we know that you would never do anything like this."

"But they said I tried…I tried…" She couldn't finish the sentence, so the cat waiting patiently for her to take her breaths. He didn't let go of her, and she didn't pull away from him. "What if that is me and Hawkmoth knows it? What if Heavyweight is me on the inside?"

And there it was. The bottom line. Not all the victims got there. There was always the denying—"I didn't do it, I swear!"—and the apologies to him and his lady and the city. But about half of them had approached him with the question. What if they were the true monsters? He knew the answer, but it didn't matter what he thought. Chat Noir wasn't a trained professional, able to show her in the way she needed that she was taken over by a madman. He wasn't a familiar face, someone who could tell her exactly what she needed to hear. He was a stranger in a mask. The most they had in common was the same college, and she didn't even know that he went to the same school as her.

He sniffed at her ear, the closest part of her to him, and she cringed away. Lucie looked up at him with the bridge of her nose scrunched up. Chat Noir let her go but searched around her, lifting her arms, one at a time.

"What are you—"

"Lift up your feet please," he said simply. She obeyed, pulling her knees to her chest. Dropping to his knees, he inspected her shoes. He continued circling her, letting her nose scrunch up in confusion again before he sat in front of her. The black cat sighed, considering her small, blue eyes again. "Here's the thing, Lucie. While you might've have a valid point, I don't think you could be hiding Heavyweight anywhere. You're too tiny, and she's a little on the heavy side." He let a teasing grin take over his face.

She giggled.

Relief drenched him. There was the key. "Plus, Heavyweight doesn't have as pretty of a laugh as you. So I wouldn't sweat it, Lucie. No one blames you. Least of all me."

"Thanks, Chat Noir."

He gave her a two-fingered salute and sauntered to where his lady was waving him down.

"How is Lucie?"

He smiled. "She'll be okay, I think."

"Good, good. Hey, I gotta get out of here, my earrings are beeping. Are you good?" She grinned at him, and he felt his insides melt. Would that ever stop happening?

He nodded, giving her a small smile. She flung her yo-yo, and a few seconds later, she was gone. And then his baton gave a beep. Chat rolled his eyes. "You got it, Plagg." He extended his baton and went home, Lucie's miserable eyes on his mind the rest of the night.

It was days like today when Adrien could understand why he and Plagg, the black cat of bad luck, were bonded.

To start off his morning, he had fallen oh-so-gracefully out of bed and had a bump to prove it. Halfway to school, he realized he had forgotten his physics assignment on his desk, and when he went back home to get it, he had overheard his father talking on the phone with somebody important who was inviting them to something pointless for the first Saturday morning he'd had off in a month. And then his father had the gall to give him a disappointed look as he rushed back out of the house to where his driver was waiting. All that glamour had led him to be late for his first class of the day.

Adrien had never labelled himself as being an individual with particularly bad luck. If he focused on it enough, he supposed he was deserving of the title. There were people who had it a lot worse than him, so he could usually push the idea out of his mind. But it was days like today where it clung to him like Velcro.

As he slumped in his seat under Miss Bustier's disapproving gaze, Adrien pulled out his tablet. It was all he could do not to groan and fall to the floor dramatically when he saw a reminder message from Nathalie. He had forgotten about it in the chaos of the morning, but his lunch break was taken by his least favorite appointment of all.

You have an appointment with Dr. Dubois today at lunch. I will be there at noon to escort you.

The model decided that he was giving up. Happiness just wasn't in the cards for him today. Somehow, looking to his left, his best friend had gotten the same memo.

"Nino," he hissed at his friend. Maybe he could convince the DJ to come with him to his appointment. They could get lunch after, maybe that sandwich shop Nino had mentioned a few times lately.

Nino wasn't listening to him. He wasn't listening to Miss Bustier either. He was staring into space, lost. His headphones were slung casually around his neck. Adrien look at his hands, the only things not frozen. His best friend was twirling something between them. Slowly, deliberately. Something about it was familiar, but Adrien couldn't quite put his finger on it.

If Nino noticed the questioning look on his friend's face, he didn't acknowledge it. He kept staring off into space. Everything on the internet said he should get rid of it, the possessed item. But when he went to throw it away, he found that he couldn't bring himself to let go of it. The small vial of bubbles had stayed on his dresser since Adrien's birthday. Until today.

"Adults are taking the day off—so make the most of it! No chores, no homework, no more nagging! Just fun, fun, fun! This is the Bubbler's gift to you!"

Nino winced at the words echoing in his head. It was true that he hadn't remembered much of the initial…possession? Was that the term? How could you explain the strange feeling of being there, but not being there? Of having your memory stolen, being left with a blurry mess, only to recover it piece-by-piece over the following six months?

"Nino," his friend nudged, harder this time.

"Oh, sorry dude." He shrugged off his mood, grateful for the distraction.

"Where'd you go?" Adrien murmured, careful not to draw attention.

"I just zoned out," Nino replied. He put the vial in his pocket. That was enough of that for the day. "What do you want?"

"I have an appointment at during break. Do you want to come? I'll buy lunch."

"You're on."

Behind them, Alya was fuming. "Did you go online this morning?"

Marinette was busy doodling cats in her notebook. Cute little black kittens pouncing on balls of yarn. One kitty even wore a green necktie and glasses. He was cute—cuddly even.

"Mari!" Alya hissed.

She jumped, dropping her pencil on the ground. The teen hastily bent down to grab it, but at the same time, Mylène leaned across the aisle, eager to help. They collided with a loud crack, and both rubbed their heads with vigor from the pain. Matching blushes colored their cheeks as the class turned to face them. Chloé rolled her eyes and huffed from the front row.

Marinette made eye contact with a certain pair of green eyes and she turned three shades darker than the tomato red she already was.

She squeaked. "Sorry, Mylène!"

The blonde in question just smiled shyly at her and passed her the pencil that had caused all the trouble. "No sweat, Marinette." The class continued, despite the intrusion, and Miss Bustier held back a chuckle. Leave it to Marinette.

"What, Alya?" the embarrassed teen growled at her best friend, who couldn't help but chuckle.

"Okay, I was totally upset before but you totally just cheered me up."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Of course. I'm glad I could help."

"But seriously, did you go online this morning?"

"No, why?"

"Some idiot was posting on my blog—my blog—about the akuma victims."

"What'd they say?"

"Blasphemy that puts the blame on us victims. It got downright nasty."

"Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack. Can you believe that?"

"Not really. If you know the vicitms before they're akumatized compared to when they are akumatized…it's like a whole other person."

"Yeah, and that whole other person is Hawkmoth. I just can't believe someone would post something like that. Especially on my blog, where I wasn't exactly secretive about being Lady Wifi."

Marinette sent her friend a sympathetic look. She kind of understood. Sure, she hadn't been akumatized herself—she wasn't even sure it could happen to her—but most of her class had been. She had seen firsthand the transformation from good to evil; it was plain as day. But if you didn't know the victims, like most of Paris didn't, it seemed like a madman was giving kids powers to take what they wanted all along.

She just hoped that didn't become a popular opinion.

"Alright Adrien, it's been a month since we last talked. How are things?"

Yes, Dr. Dubois was his therapist. No, Adrien didn't feel any shame in that, thanks for asking. It was his monthly appointment, which had only begun after Nathalie became his father's executive assistant. She and the good doctor both insisted they were just check-ins and he had nothing to worry about. So, he didn't. Of course, that didn't make the experience any more awkward. Especially because he was supposed to be honest and open while also guarding the biggest secret in the history of secrets.

"Uh, well, let's see," the blonde stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's a lot of the same on my end, to be honest. School, homework, photo shoots, fashion shows, you know?"

"Do you still like physics?"

"Yeah, uh, it's my favorite subject. I just finished a project that was worth a quarter of my grade, and I feel pretty good about it."

"That's good to hear. How's your relationship with your father?"

Adrien felt his face heat up, and his hands fell to his lap. "That's…pretty much the same. Nothing new to report."

"So you still feel ignored?"

"I never said that."

"I know," Dr. Dubois amended. "But I got the feeling from you last session."

"You didn't tell him that, did you?" Adrien felt his heart speed up, as if he had just finished an hour of fencing practice.

"Doctor-patient confidentiality, Adrien. You know that."

"Right."

"Do you want me to tell him?"

He shook his head. "No. That'd hurt him." The model wasn't actually sure if it would. His father wasn't exactly overflowing with emotions.

Sensing his uncomfortable shifting, Dr. Dubois considered him before changing the subject. "How about your mother?"

"Well, she's still missing, if that's what you're asking." He tried so hard to keep the agitation he felt out of his voice.

"I'm aware, Adrien. I'm just asking if you are waiting for her to come back?"

Adrien opened his mouth and then closed it again. That was almost too much for him, but he didn't want this session to go into overtime, so he racked his brain for a healthy response. "Here's the thing: I'm not expecting her to appear on our doorstep. Realistically, if she's been gone for this long, she's probably not coming back. But I still hope she will."

Adrien studied the man who was studying him in return. He nodded his head to write some notes on the notepad in front of him. Dr. Dubois had dark, frizzy hair. He was younger than any therapist Adrien had seen…of course, he only knew the graying old white dudes from the movies. He supposed he was good at his job, but it just felt wrong to spill your guts to someone whose first name you didn't even know. Unless it was Doctor, then that would be a pretty awesome coincidence.

"I can tell you're done talking to me, Adrien, so let's cut this session short. I believe you have a friend out there who's eager to get lunch with you. And, believe it or not, we made progress this session." The doctor smiled eagerly at him, and Adrien could help but give him a small smile in return.

"Cool. Thanks, uh…see you next month." Adrien pushed himself to his feet, relief coursing through his veins. That went better than usual.

"See you next month."

Nino was out in the lobby, patting his thighs in a beat that Adrien didn't recognize. "Hey, that was quick!"

"Yeah, I guess I'm not crazy this month," Adrien offered. "So that's a relief."

"Not any crazier than normal, at least," Nino corrected, and Adrien rolled his eyes.

"You ready for lunch, then?"

"Always! But, uh, you go ahead. I want to talk to the head doc for a hot second, cool?"

Adrien scrunched his nose. "Uh, alright. I'll wait in the car."

There was literally no reason that he could think of for Nino to need to talk to his therapist. Unless he really and truly considered Adrien to be crazy. But, if either of the two of them was going to turn out to be mad, it would be Nino. They had decided this months ago. (One of the first times Adrien had ever had a sleepover, actually. Of course, his father had taken a good look at the dark circles under his eyes the next morning and Adrien knew that convincing him to okay another one would be a difficult undertaking.)

Before he knew what he was doing, Nino popped his head in the dude's office. "Uhm, hi. Are you busy, dude—er, sir?"

Dr. Dubois looked up from his laptop and gave the teen an unreadable look. "You're Adrien's friend, Nino, right?"

"Uh, yes, dude—er, sir."

"Come on in. Take a seat." He removed his glasses, and he suddenly looked less intimidating to Nino. "Any friend of Adrien's is welcome here."

"Well, this, uh, isn't about Adrien, exactly," Nino stammered. "But I've never been in a head doctor's building, let alone his office, ya know?"

"Okay, then. Spit it out."

"I guess—has Adrien told you about our, uh, college? How most of the kids in our classes have been getting, well, akumatized?"

"Yes, he's mentioned it before. He hasn't been though, from what I understand."

"Oh, nononono, dude—I mean sir!, he hasn't," Nino amended. It was times like these when he wasn't sure why anyone let him out in public. He was a stammering mess. The DJ sighed, and let his left hand tap out a quiet, calming rhythm. "I have, though."

Dr. Dubois's eyes widened. "Oh really?"

"Yeah, and at first, I didn't remember anything. Any time I tried to remember, it was just like a fog. But, uh, I've been getting glimpses of what happened, and what I did, and uh...well…" Nino shuddered. "It's not great, remembering. And it's been so long now…no one really worries about me anymore. And that's fine, but—"

"I'm sorry to do this to you, but I only have a few minutes before my next session. What exactly do you want from me, Nino?"

"Okay. I want you to start a group session. For akuma victims. To just talk, or listen, or whatever, ya know? I can get in touch with them, if you want, one of my best, uh, friends runs the Ladyblog—I don't know if you know what that is, but the point is," Nino spat out hastily, noting how much rambling he was doing. "I think more people are going to start remembering, and it would be great if there was somewhere we could do that together."

Dr. Dubois stared at him, not saying anything, and the silence is what got Nino. He couldn't deal with it for more than a few seconds before he got fidgety. The doctor seemed to pick up on that so he heaved in a deep breath and leaned forward.

"Let me think about that. But that's not a bad idea."

Nino's face split into a wide grin, and the thoughts of the Bubbler that had been closing in on him during the meeting evaporated into thin air. "Thanks dude! I—I mean, sir!"

"Thank you, Nino. Now, I think Adrien mentioned something about getting tacos...?"

"Yeah, perfect! Thanks du—sir! You won't regret this!"

Nino was walking on cloud nine the rest of the day, to the point where Adrien didn't feel the weight of his bad luck anymore.

A/N: I replaced the first chapter-y/preview-thing with this full chapter after I got a few good comments yesterday. I've had this idea in my head for a while, and when I sat down to write it I kind of word-barfed. Let me know any questions/comments/concerns/ideas/theories/etc. that you might have!