Thanks for being patient!

Chapter 10: Echo

Ladybug flattened himself against the wall of the building, trying to keep his heavy breathing as quiet as possible, even though the akuma probably couldn't hear him from all the way on the other side of the street. His fingers squeezed tightly around the yo-yo in his hand, hoping to somehow channel the same familiarity and comfort from this foreign weapon that he could with his staff. But the yo-yo wasn't any less unfamiliar, and Ladybug wasn't any more ready for what he was about to do.

He had a plan... kind of. It probably wasn't a very good plan, and it involved taking many, many risks he probably couldn't spare to take. Ladybug wasn't too confident that it was going to work, because so far nothing had even made a dent in the akuma's seemingly unbreakable armor, and with a strategy so bold and parlous he was probably going to get killed in the process. But damn it if he wasn't going to try his best to save her.

Tikki's advice resonated through his head again. "You can do it, Adrien. Coax her out of it. Remind her who she is."

"You can do it," he repeated to himself, under his breath. The faux confidence in his voice sounded almost believable. "You can save her." His resolve began to slip as quickly as it had stationed. "You… you can…"

Ladybug hurriedly shook his head. This wasn't the time to start spiraling downward. His hands were shaking and his heart was pounding, and somehow, through the weight of it all, he found the power within himself to take a deep breath and unwind the string of his yo-yo. And, before the doubt could sink back in, before he could let himself back out, he hurled his yo-yo and swung himself off his feet.

He could do it.

Swinging across Paris at the mercy of a yo-yo was about as difficult as it sounded, even for a sort-of-experienced superhero. Magical or not, a yo-yo was still a yo-yo, and Ladybug didn't even know how to use the toy for its inherent purpose, nevertheless how to use it to beat up bad guys and soar through the city. He'd hoped that this would be easier than he expected it to be, but... let's just say, the journey to rescue His Lady was not off to the most ideal start.

Ladybug remembered the first moment he ever saw Ladybug (the Marinette Ladybug, not the Chat Noir/Adrien one), when she flew through the air and crashed on top of Chat Noir, consequence of her lack of yo-yo-swinging experience. It took both of them a while to adjust to this whole hero-thing, although Chat liked to think that he was more excited to learn than his partner—no, he knew he was. But Maribug's reluctance did not make her any less of a phenomenal hero. In fact, if anything, it was Chat's 'act first, ask questions later' approach that proved to be a larger hindrance, if his first overexcited transformation was any form of admissible proof.

The point was, this costume, this weapon, these powers—this was not his niche. His skill-set wasn't developed with this miraculous; his abilities wouldn't align with these provisions, at least not right away, not in the time he needed it to. And while he wasn't normally against winging things, while he was often excited to test his luck to its limits... now was not the time.

Luckily, he didn't have to precariously swing for much longer. He found her shortly after his search began, sitting on the lawn in front of the Musée Rodin, her black ladybugs continuing to circle around her in their screaming terror. Clumps of grass and dirt flew through the air as the lawn eroded, and Ladybug jumped—i.e. fell—behind a tree before she could sense him, as well as before something could fly in his face and render him blind.

After taking half a second to catch his breath, Ladybug recalled phase two of his alleged 'plan.' He untied the yo-yo from his waist with stiff fingers, and, as quickly and quietly as possible, he summoned his Lucky Charm. There was a brief flash of light, and he blindly fumbled to catch the light item in his hands... only to nearly drop it when he realized what it was.

(He didn't know charms could be any color other than red and black.)

Forcing himself out of his shock, he shakily pocketed the Lucky Charm and rewound his yo-yo, his mind spinning. He didn't need to think over how he was going to make use of the magical item, but in all of the chaos over the past few days, he'd completely forgotten about it. He—he didn't—

He hadn't told her yet.

...

Two Nights Earlier

...

It was all Plagg's fault.

Well. Maybe it was also sort of Adrien's fault for not noticing it earlier, but that's only because he was terribly oblivious, which was because he had the worst luck on the planet, which, oh wait, was also Plagg's fault.

As of late, the lazy kwami had taken to sleeping in Adrien's sock drawer, for god-knows-what reason. When questioned, Plagg's only explanation had been, "Well I'm not going to nap in your underwear." Adrien was more than a little peeved by this, but by this point in their less-than-perfect relationship, he had learned to, when in doubt, let Plagg do whatever he wanted. Doing so had spared Adrien a lot of grief that he couldn't afford to waste on a pesky cat.

On that night, Adrien was so tired he was almost falling asleep on his feet. Earlier that day, he'd had two difficult tests, three Chloé tantrums, a photo shoot right after school, and then patrols right after that until midnight. He probably would've patrolled longer than that, too (Hawk Moth's absence continued to hang over the his and Ladybug's heads, and by this point they didn't even question patrolling overtime), but then Ladybug reluctantly told him that she had to leave because she had a big assignment due tomorrow, and Adrien suddenly remembered that he himself had a physics project due in the morning that, considering how little time he'd had lately, he hadn't even started to work on. So, after a fast farewell, the heroes departed and headed home, Adrien a little more quickly, to complete their individual work.

Fortunately, physics was one of his favorite subjects, and years of private tutoring had taught him how to do work quickly, efficiently, and independently. By 1h00, he'd typed out a third of his paper, which only left two-thirds and the oral presentation, which would probably only take him an hour or two to plan out. In the end, he would be done by 4h, or 5h at the latest. And that still left him with one complete, wholesome hour of sleep, which was probably more sleep than the overworked child had gotten all month.

Unfortunately, when calculating his plan, Adrien hadn't factored in the possibility of Plagg fucking up everything, which he probably should have, because of course Plagg was going to fuck something up have you even met the guy.

He didn't notice it at first. Adrien's nose was so used to the stench of Plagg's stupid cheese, and he was too immersed in his work to pay much attention to the atmosphere of the room. The smell gradually got worse as Adrien gradually grew more and more focused, and when he finally did notice it he just decided to ignore it, as one learned to do when living with the distasteful kwami. But then the stench got so horrifically putrid that simply breathing became a dreaded task, and Adrien slammed his textbook shut with an irritated sigh before relenting to find out why his room was smelling like camembert much more profoundly than it usually did.

"Plagg," he called, standing up from his chair. His eyes flitted around the room, searching for the troublesome roommate. "What the heck are you doing with your cheese?"

Adrien's sock drawer rattled, then popped open. After a beat, Plagg's head poked out. "Eating it, of course."

Adrien walked over to the drawer and peered inside. He immediately recoiled and pinched his nose with his fingers to block out the stench.

No wonder the room smelled so bad—his entire drawer was covered in camembert.

His eye twitched. He looked back at the shameless kwami. "Why."

"Well it wasn't on purpose."

"Oh my god."

So instead of working on his very important physics project, Adrien spent the greater half of the night trying to clean the inside of his drawer while reminding Plagg every other minute how much he was hated.

Adrien ripped the disgusting drawer out of the dresser, astoundingly not breaking the framework in the process, and stomped over to his bathroom like a disgruntled child. Then, holding his breath, he grabbed handfuls of sticky socks and blindly shoved them in a plastic bag, grumbling under his breath. He had half a mind to set the bag on fire once it was filled, rather than to deliver it to the washing machines, but he begrudgingly shoved that pyromaniac idea back in the idea box.

(Adrien's taxing fatigue was not corresponding well with his overwhelming stress.)

Distracted by his exhaustion and his desire to be doing literally anything else but this, Adrien didn't realize he was finished until his hands grabbed the final article in the drawer, which was too long to be a sock. Eyes watering from the stench, Adrien reluctantly looked at the item in his hand.

It was the blue scarf. The scarf he cherished so much, the one his father gave him for his birthday earlier this year. His heart pounded, worrying that it had gotten stained by the cheese, but after a quick inspection the present fortunately appeared unaffected.

Adrien vaguely recalled how the scarf ended up with his socks in the first place. The last time he'd worn it, he took it off after a long day of back to back photoshoots that tired him out to the core. Instead of bothering to place the scarf back on its designated shelf in his closet, he'd tossed it in his open sock drawer and made a mental note to put it back later. The note didn't stick and the scarf never left.

Adrien nostalgically ran his fingers over the soft fabric. It was a token of one of the rare displays of affection his father had given him this past year. Not that Gabriel was all warm and cuddles before Adrien's mother disappeared, but... her absence had certainly been hard on both of them.

The hero's train of thought halted when his fingertips discovered an odd consistency in the yarn, like something had been sewn into it. Adrien blinked and peered down at the seam. It was barely visible, but he could tell something was stitched in the fabric that he had never noticed before. It was a name. A familiar name.

"Marinette?"

Plagg looked up from licking camembert off of one of Adrien's socks. "Huh?"

"Marinette," Adrien repeated, not taking his eyes off the loopy signature. He recognized it as Marinette's handwriting, small and neat and decorated with swirls. And it was hidden in plain sight, just like how she hid her signature on the derby hat.

This was her work.

Adrien sat down on the toilet seat, the scarf hanging limply from his hands. He scratched the side of his head. "Why would my father give me something Marinette made?"

Plagg cocked his head. "You're kidding, right?"

Adrien looked at the kwami. "What?"

Plagg stared at him as if he were stupid. "Nathalie stole Marinette's gift and delivered it to you as your father's. Didn't you already figure that out?"

"What?! No? I never—" Adrien stood up, frazzled. "Wait, you knew?"

"Well, duh," Plagg said, rolling his eyes. "And I thought you knew, too, but I guess you really are just hopelessly oblivious to all obvious things."

Adrien's eye twitched. "Wh—what made you think I knew that?" (Not that he was terribly surprised that his father had lied to him. Again.)

(Not that he appreciated it, either.)

Plagg wrinkled his nose as he recalled the mental image. "Whenever you wear it, you get 'the look' on your face. And your cheeks get all blushy and you bury your nose in it like it's the best thing you've ever worn."

His cheeks reddened in embarrassment. "That's because I thought my father gave it to me! What does that have to do with Marinette?" He frowned. "And what the hell is 'the look?'"

Plagg's expression transitioned from incredulous to genuinely shocked. "Oh my god."

"What?"

"I cannot believe you."

"What?!"

"Marinette!" Plagg yelled. He flew off the counter, hands thrown up in the air. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng! The girl you have a huge major fat crush on! You always act like that around her."

Adrien choked on his own spit. He doubled over and began coughing violently, his hand gripping the side of the counter to keep himself from falling over. When he straightened back up again, his throat burning and his heart pounding, he looked Plagg in the eye and exclaimed, "What the hell."

Plagg remained unphased. "Don't blame me just because it takes you twenty years to figure out everything."

"I do not have a crush on Marinette!" Adrien denied, petulantly crossing his arms over his chest. "We are just friends. That's all I think of her. As a friend."

Plagg mimicked Adrien by crossing his own arms. "Oh yeah? Then why are you trying so hard to deny it?"

"Because it's not true!" he growled, jabbing a finger in Plagg's face. "I love Ladybug! There's no way I can like Marinette too."

The I-think-you're-stupid expression returned to the kwami's face. "I've dealt with the fickle love lives of humans for a long time, kid. I know it's possible to like two people at once."

Adrien shook his head. "Well of course it's possible, but Ladybug is the love of my life. I..." He sighed. "There's no room for anyone else."

"Well, you may think that, but your red cheeks say otherwise." Plagg poked Adrien in the face.

He recoiled away, his blush darkening. "It's hot in here. That doesn't mean anything."

"Oh, and I suppose complimenting her all the time is also just circumstantial?"

"I compliment everyone."

"Not as much as her." He kept going. "What about how you're always spending time with her?"

Adrien huffed. "We do that as friends."

"You're always paying attention to her. You're always trying to talk to her. You take every opportunity to help her. You never stop looking at her."

"Now you're just lying," Adrien lied.

Plagg saw through his facade. "You always flirt with her as Chat Noir."

Adrien spluttered over his defense. "Wh—no I do—that's your influence."

"Oh, for god's sake, Adrien," Plagg snapped. "Stop denying it! You know I'm right!"

"No you're not!" he cried. "Stop it! I don't like her like that! We're just friends! Just because I think she's smart and brave and pretty and talented and I like her laugh and I like to spend time with her and I want us to be closer doesn't mean—" Adrien stopped.

Plagg just continued to observe patiently, his green eyes staring sharply as the revelation unfolded before him.

"...Oh my god." Adrien slowly sunk to the floor of the bathroom. "Oh my god."

"You're a fucking idiot."

"Oh my god," he repeated, looking up at Plagg. His eyes were wide and wild. "I like her. I like-like her."

"Congratulations, you just graduated maternelle."

He ran a hand through his hair. His head was pounding. "I—Marinette? I like Marinette." He was going to be sick. "Oh my god."

Plagg flew down to Adrien's level. "Why the long face? Can't you just accept that I'm smarter than you?"

"I like Marinette," he said. Did he say that already? "Oh my god."

"Okay, this was funny at first but now I'm bored." Plagg poked Adrien in the face again. "Yes, you like Marinette. Now we can move on with our lives."

The epiphany finally sunk in, and Adrien put a disbelieving hand on his forehead. "That's not possible," he said. "I can't like Marinette."

Plagg scowled. "Yes it is? We've been over this already."

"No, it's not. I can't." He dug his fingers into his knees. "I already love Ladybug. I—I'm devoted to her."

The kwami's expression turned sour. "I'm pretty sure devotion is supposed to be mutual."

He shook his head. "That doesn't matter right now! I know how I feel. That can't—this feeling—it isn't just going to go away."

"So what?" Plagg whined, clearly getting fed up. "She doesn't like you back!"

Adrien's breath hitched.

Realizing what he said, Plagg amended his statement in a softened tone. "...Well, at least as of right now, she's not interested. Who knows, maybe you two have a shot in the future, but... but right now she's waiting on someone and that someone isn't you. Marinette, on the other hand—" He stopped himself. "Actually, that's enough surprises for today. You can figure that one out by yourself."

Adrien slumped back against the base of the counter. He hated it when Plagg could make sense. "How did this happen?" he asked, to no one in particular. Maybe to himself. "How did I ever... When did I ever start to stray from Ladybug?"

Rhetorical or not, Plagg reassured him, "That doesn't matter now. You didn't do anything wrong. You're not cheating on LB by liking Marinette too; taking a shot with Marinette doesn't invalidate your love for Ladybug any less. If this doesn't work out—which I seriously doubt will happen," Plagg added under his breath, "—then you can always go back to obsessing over your 'one true love' or whatever."

"I don't obsess over her," Adrien grumbled.

"Uh huh."

Adrien took a deep breath, trying to clear his head. "Okay. I like Marinette."

"Oh god, not this again—"

He cut Plagg off. "So... if I like her, I should... ask her out?"

"That would be the correct first step, yes."

"Okay." Adrien hauled himself to his feet. "Good. Okay. Good. I'll do it. Tomorrow. Good."

"Good," Plagg drawled.

"Good," Adrien agreed, missing the sarcasm. "Yeah. Okay. This is good."

Plagg sighed and ruffled Adrien's bangs. "I'm proud of you, kid," he said, his voice encouraging for once, rather than cynical. "I know this is hard for you to admit, so don't chicken out of it."

"I won't," Adrien promised. He scratched the back of Plagg's ear. "Thanks loser."

Plagg rolled his eyes, but he quirked his lip. "Don't thank me yet. You still have to finish your project."

"...Oh no."

Ten Hours Later

"Dude, are you okay?"

Adrien jerked up from the bench in the courtyard, where he'd been lying in the fetal position ever since lunch began. He had been on the brink of falling asleep for what would've been the billionth time that day. Finishing the physics project had taken him the remainder of the night, and recently Adrien's average number of hours of sleep per night had been teetering dangerously low. He didn't think he'd ever been so desperate for a nap in his entire life.

Nino stared down at Adrien with an eyebrow cocked, one hand laid on the headphones around his neck. Adrien could hear the faint sound of rock music coming from them. He repeated, "Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah," Adrien yawned. He rubbed his eyes. "Jus' tired."

"Aren't we all." Nino stuck out a hand to help him up. "C'mon. Let's go to the library. You can sleep on my lap."

Nino led a drowsy Adrien to the back of the library, where he took a brief nap on the couch with his head, as promised, in Nino's lap. The brief moment of rest didn't completely satiate his desire to sleep, but it did help smooth the edges of his headache. Nino woke him up fifteen minutes before lunch ended so they could grab some food, preferably something caffeinated. Or drugged.

(He was so. tired.)

They were on their way to the exit, Adrien shuffling along like a senior citizen, when Nino suddenly snagged Adrien's arm to get him to stop walking. Adrien looked back and saw him staring bright-eyed at Alya and Marinette, who were sitting by themselves at a table with a bag of croissants. "Did someone say food?" Nino asked.

Alya quickly shoved a croissant in her mouth. "Noo..."

Nino leaned over her and tried to snatch the bag of goods from her hands. "Gimme!"

Alya hissed and slapped his hand away.

Adrien wasn't paying attention to Nino and Alya's bickering, but his head didn't feel so fuzzy anymore. He was staring down at Marinette, who seemed to also be tuning out their friends' mindless fighting, and suddenly all traces of drowsiness had evaporated from his brain.

Having a crush on someone and being fully aware of having a crush on someone were two terribly different things. Awareness made him notice the curve of her face and the blue of her eyes and the delicate texture of her hair and the freckles on her skin and...

He needed to tell her.

He promised Plagg he would tell her. He couldn't chicken out of this. He had to do it. Now.

Adrien decided that he was not going to be afraid. He would walk into this with his head up and a smile on his face and he was just going to tell her that he knew about the scarf, knew about his crush, and knew that he really wanted to be with her. And he would tell her that as much as he'd had this figured out, he still had no idea what he was doing.

'But all I want is you.'

Adrien wrung out his hands. Cleared his throat. Took a deep breath.

"Marinette."

...

Present

...

Ladybug peeked back around the tree. The akuma was still simply sitting on the grass, her legs crossed and her eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to her hair whipping around her head and her clothes spinning and the tornado of insects destroying the property surrounding her. She appeared to be meditating, but why she was doing so, he wasn't sure. In fact, he didn't even know why she was here—by this hour, the museum was closed. Not that it wouldn't have already been evacuated by now.

A few hours earlier, when he was facing off with her as Chat Noir, he barely had a chance. He had only fought with her for twenty minutes, but those few minutes had been degrading and... horrifying. It was short-lived, but the encounter gave him more than a taste of her full potential, seeing as she didn't hesitate or hold back in the slightest.

Her face was blank, but her wrath was malicious. She never stopped firing ladybugs at him, never stopped chasing his tail, never stopped pushing him into corners that he miraculously escaped from. It was like she was spellbound, like she had transformed into an indestructible war machine that was programmed to annihilate him, and if he hadn't finally run off when he did, he was certain she would've gone to any extent to reach her goal. She'd had the complete upper hand, and she knew it. He might have felt humiliated if it wasn't so unsettling.

She wasn't the Ladybug he knew. She wasn't the Marinette he knew. She... she was... he didn't even know her akuma name.

He didn't know her at all.

The sound of a trashcan crashing against Ladybug's hiding tree abruptly dragged him back into reality. Mentally scrambling to recollect himself, he bit his lip and absently smoothed his hand over the blue scarf.

...

It was time to end this.

...

...

I didn't update for like four months whoops.

This chapter wasn't as action-packed as I'd originally planned... but there's been some subtle foreshadowing leading up to this. Who caught it?

The next few chapters are going to be wrapping up the story, so expect BIG THINGS.

**cross-posted on ao3

**tumblr: chatnono