welcome back to hell ^-^

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The first thing Marinette did – deny.

It's was a ridiculous notion – Adrien? And Chat Noir? Two completely different people – different personalities, different auras.

She'd be lying if she never noticed the physical similarities, but of course, there were millions and millions of people in Paris – at least some of them were bound to share those same physical traits that Adrien and Chat Noir pertained.

Of course…that scar looked so familiar…

Marinette subsided her thoughts of doubt to examine Adrien once more. He was certainly taller, succeeding in making her feel small, but not too small. His hair was a bit longer, a bit more spread out, too, but just as well taken care of as it had been before she left. It always looked soft. His eyes were a medium green, not too dark and not too light, friendly, but deep, containing millions of emotions brewed together into a fanciful emerald cocktail. He blinked, snapping her back into reality and back into the present.

"Adrien. Hi. Hi." She rushed to think of something halfway intelligent to say. "Yes. I am back. How are you?" …close enough.

He smiled, and suddenly, Marinette remembered. She remembered loving this boy (well, man now) for years, and literally falling at his feet at the given opportunity. She remembered days and days spent over him, hurting and aching and wishing she could work up the courage to just say something to him.

She had yearned to know him more intimately than anyone else – and yet, she'd never even managed to scratch the surface of Adrien Agreste.

"I'm…pretty good, yeah." He answered. She blinked, forgetting she had even asked a question. He had that sort of effect on her that made her forget everything she had said and done in the last five minutes.

"That's…that's great!" She awkwardly announced. She mentally grimaced, here she was, right back in her shoes four years ago, making an absolute fool of herself.

"So…what are you doing here?" He asked her, not disrespectfully, but in the sense of 'why are you even in my house' tone.

"Um…business! The company I work for wanted your company to…um…help out…" She made a few awkward hand gestures and shrugged.

"You're going to be doing business with us, then?" He concluded. Of course. It made sense that Adrien would stay in Paris and assist the family business. Maybe he was still modeling, after all these years, he still had every ounce (if not more) of his renowned radiant beauty.

Marinette mentally kicked herself. Way to put all those years of maturity behind her.

"Yes. I work for the Lenden Fashion Corporation now." She informed him, keeping her voice as steady as possible. It was just a boy. Just Adrien. No need to freak out. So what if her world revolved around him for a good portion of her youth? That was…completely…irrelevant…

"All the way in Italy? So you weren't kidding then, I was sad to see you go that day. You really left in a hurry, it seemed." He pointed out. Marinette went rigid at the memory of leaving Paris. Such a fuzzy memory. But it made her stomach tickle at the thought of him noticing her as she left.

"I guess so," she mumbled, twirling a lock of hair absently, searching for an interesting source of small-talk. "You…you got taller!"

"Did I?" He asked, looking down at the floor to measure whether or not it had gotten farther away. "Maybe. You stayed the exact same height."

Marinette blinked. Was he…teasing her?

With a newfound smitten demeanor, she grinned. "Do you have a problem with my height, Adrien?"

His eyebrows lightly played to his expression, a curious experimental smile stretching across his lips. "No, I happen to like the fact that you're just…pocket-sized."

She tried not to laugh. "Pocket-sized?"

"Yup." He patted his pocket, as if he were half expecting her to hop into it.

She covered her mouth to keep from giggling like a stupid teenager. She was twenty-two years old, she should have the restraint to not fall head-over-ass for some attractive man who happened to be quite funny and sweet too.

"Maybe you'll just have to teach me to be tall, then." She smarted, avoiding her old advice of not falling for Adrien and instead doing the very wrong thing and flirting right back with him.

"It would take a lot of time and effort, from a shorty like you." He made a leveling gesture with his hand to symbolize her lack of height.

"I'll be learning from the best," she mused, as if actually considering taking a lesson from Adrien for the vertically challenged.

Adrien looked like he was about to elaborate further on the fictitious class, but was interrupted by a voice she hoped she wouldn't have to hear again.

"Adrien," Gabriel Agreste's voice echoed from down the vacant hallway. "I'd appreciate if you could keep your head out of the clouds and focus on your job."

Adrien's face got dark so fast Marinette could've sworn a shadow had passed overhead.

"Yes father," Adrien said through gritted teeth. He said the word father as if it were equivalent to a weapon of mass destruction. There was clearly tension between them, as Marinette assumed there would be, after all, Gabriel Agreste was perhaps the most intimidating, steel-tongued bitter man she'd ever met.

"And don't distract our guest," Marinette shivered at the way the elder Agreste referred to her as a guest – more like prisoner. "She is here for strictly business purposes only."

Right. Business.

Marinette turned back to Adrien, feeling a bit guilty for getting him in trouble. He was still as stone-faced as he had been when his father first made his appearance.

Before she could say anything else, that stupid scar jumped out at her once more, like a neon sign that simply read don't forget the evidence.

Don't forget the evidence. Of course. She couldn't let herself, not now.

As much as every fiber, every cell of her being begged to disagree, she couldn't allow herself to sweep the fact under the rug. She would have to keep in mind that there was a possibility – however slim or wide – that Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir.

"I should…probably go…" She spoke quietly. Adrien's face regained its emotions and he blinked a few times before responding.

"Ah…I'm sorry, Marinette, really. Don't pay too much attention to him, alright?" He advised her carefully.

"Right." She faked a smile. Easier said than done.

"I hope I'll get to see you more often, then." He smiled, and if Marinette had even a lick of sense left in her empty brain, she'd have noted that he was most definitely smirking.

"It's a possibility," she murmured anxiously. She was beginning to feel her face turn red and was eager to escape his searching emerald gaze, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a blush.

"Until then," he gave her a tiny bow, before exiting as dramatically as he had arrived. Marinette reserved the right to laugh hysterically inside her head. He was so damned cute. Bowing? He was so extra it was ridiculous.

Head bubbling with memories of past encounters, she allowed herself to indulge in the thought that maybe this time, she'd get past the surface of Adrien. Maybe this time, she'd actually get to know him as she so desired.

She smiled. He had actually managed to brighten up a day that had seemed as dark as a closed closet, thanks to his own father.

Right. It was going to be an interesting few months here in Paris. That was for sure.

.

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.

"Mom," Marinette greeted softly, lightly leaning over and resting her hand on her mother's forehead. "How are you feeling today?"

Her mother smiled and clasped her hand, like she was grateful for the simplicity of human contact. "Just fine…just fine…"

Marinette retracted her hand and forced a small smile. "That's good. Has dad been here yet?"

Her mother nodded slowly. "Yes, yes. A few times."

Marinette took her mother's hand and squeezed it lightly. "Do you want me to get any medicine or food for you? Do you need any-"

"No…no." she mumbled, blinking her tired eyes. "I just want to look at my daughter's face…so lovely…"

Marinette flushed and smiled sheepishly. "Mom…"

"Be quiet, now, you've matured so much…such beautiful hair, lovely features…why, you'll be married in no time." her mother paused to cough a few times, stirring tears behind Marinette's eyes. It wasn't…it wasn't fair…

"Why did it…" she gasped, taken aback by the sound of her own strained voice. "Why did it have to be you, mom? Why not someone…someone else…"

"Ahh, my dear, sometimes, these things happen…" her mother told her, voice hoarse from the coughing.

"I know…I know…" Marinette soothed herself with her own words. It'd be fine. Her mother was strong, she could recover.

Sensing the discomfort in the topic of conversation, Marinette's mother moved on.

"How has your work been?"

Marinette blinked.

"Ah…good, good. I get to work with the Agreste Industry…" She added guiltily.

Marinette's mother weakly raised an eyebrow. "Agreste? Isn't that the name of the boy you used to-"

"HAHAHAHA. No, you must be mistaken…" Marinette defended, a bit too quickly. Marinette's mother looked appropriately skeptical.

"Whatever you say…" she spoke slowly.

Marinette smiled, enjoying her mother's company much more than she had imagined. She a had missed her for all those years in Italy, unfortunately she hadn't been able to call as frequently as she should've. She had been so invested on getting her dream job, she practically shut out everything else important and sold her soul for something as trivial as occupation.

It seemed that now was when the world was deciding to make her pay the price for her selfishness.

"Mom…can I ask you something…off-topic?" She asked kindly, on the mental topic of her betrayal.

"Of course, my dear. Anything."

Marinette breathed in, keeping her blood pressure low and calm.

"While…while I was gone…can you tell me about Paris? Specifically…the super-heroes, I mean. How have they been?" Marinette cringed at her own phrasing. Surely her mother would be suspicious as to why she wanted to know about something as odd as that. But how else was she going to get proper information about Chat Noir? The internet was insufficient. In all honesty, she had turned to Alya's Ladyblog, but was disappointed to see that it had been taken down sometime before. She was completely blind, and now she just needed her mother to be her eyes.

"Ah…yes. The young boy. I figured you would ask about him…"

Marinette's eyes widened. "Wha…why is tha-"

Marinette's other smiled and rested her head back. "Marinette, a daughter can only hide so much from her own mother."

A few seconds of stark silence passed.

"…M…Mom? What are you say-"

"I'm proud of you, Marinette. I couldn't have asked for a more brave and selfless daughter." Her mother said softly.

Marinette bit back tears. Selfless. The word mocked her now.

"And yet…" her mother continued, silent judgment fleeting across her eyes. "You left the young boy alone to fight for Paris. I always…I always wondered…"

Now Marinette allowed her tears to cascade down like thick, salty waterfalls. Why did she have to leave? How could she have done this?

Sabine Cheng pursed her lips. "If you want the truth…it always finds you, Marinette. The boy has had many troubles without your help, that's true. But I believe that if you return to him, forgiveness is still possible."

Marinette shook her head. "Oh…mom I can't, I hurt him, I can't be Ladybug again…I just…I can't…"

"You can," her mother told her. "You can't hide forever. You've run before, and now it's time for you to let yourself go…"

"I don't…" Marinette sniffed and rubbed the half-dried tears away from her cheeks. "I don't think I'm strong enough, I was so selfish, I don't even remember why I left, I'm awful, and I hurt so many people, I'm selfish and naïve and stupid-"

"All these emotions," Sabine's eyes shimmered with sadness. "So much despair. If you are able to show him the regret you feel, forgiveness is always possible. And…let me tell you…if you do not seek out this forgiveness…you will regret it…for the rest of your life…" her sentences began shortening from exhaustion, and Marinette quickly silenced her with a few soft shushes.

"I know, I know…I know, Mama." She sobbed.

"Marinette," her mother began, voice strained like a tightrope. "You always moved so fast, running after your dreams as quickly as you could. You need to know…you need to learn…to slow down. The world will wait for you – you have…all the time in the world."

Her final sentence was so bitterly ironic, Marinette almost laughed. All the time in the world, just as her mother's time was close to running out.

"Slow down, my daughter." She advised, kissing her daughter's hand slowly.

"I will, mom." She said tearfully. "I will."

.

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"Well, that's three down, seven to go…" Tikki commented aimlessly. Marinette dropped her camera onto her stomach, bouncing a few times while swinging back and forth on the strap that was tight around her neck.

"Seven more. Right. Now we just have to find seven more people that actually have a sense of style." She said monotonously. Seemed like it would be easy in a place as populous as Paris, but everyone was always moving all the time, it was hard enough to get a photo of one person at a time without it being blurry or obscured. And if there was one thing Marina Lenden hated, it was anything less than total and absolute perfection.

"What about that guy? He has a...hat…" Tikki pointed out. Marinette shrugged, red baseball caps didn't elicit any sense of fashion superiority. At least, not for her.

"Keep an eye out for people wearing scarves, that should get me on Miss Lenden's good side." Marinette grumbled. Before Tikki could speak a response, a gathering of people next to a corporate building and the sound of some uproar interrupted them.

"I wonder what's going on over there," Tikki spoke aloud. Marinette was already moving there quickly, a sense of dread pooling in her stomach.

She pushed a few people to the side, ignoring their protests as she saw what had begun unfolding on the street. An all-out brawl between two oversized men and – of course – Chat Noir, happening in between flying cars and smashed windows. How had she managed to miss all of this happening?

"Tikki, there's two of them," Marinette whispered. Two akumatized people, and Chat Noir had to fight them both by himself.

She wondered if this had happened before. If he'd ever had to fight many enemies without her.

She wondered how many close calls he'd had, and she wondered how many she could've prevented if it hadn't been for her self-centered-ness.

She watched Chat Noir, breathless, as he avoided confrontation with both men and strategically waited for the right moments to land his hits. He was stronger, faster, and smarter. But…he couldn't do it on his own. He shouldn't have to do it on his own.

Marinette, blank-minded and granite-faced, turned around and began walking. Just walking, aimlessly, with no clear direction. She just needed to get as far away from the fight as possible, as far away from Chat Noir.

Slow down Marinette, you have all the time in the world.

Slow down. Slow down.

She looked down at Tikki, they were alone behind a school building just down the street from the fight. Her face read an endless amount of emotions, but none more prominent than guilt.

"Marinette…what are you going to do?" Tikki asked her slowly. This was a trial – it would test her character and moral, and could determine the rest of her stay at Paris, and whether or not she'd harbor regret for what she did four years ago.

"Tikki," Marinette said, voice low and steely. "…Spots on."

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before you ask...yes i do hate being cliffhanger trash

thank you ALL for this amazing support! there are so many of you and im so excited that youre all so nice to me, especially with my limited ladybug knowledge, so please bear with me while i struggle with updates and such~~ thank you all so much for your reviews as well! feel free to pm me bc im really nice and i love to talk!