Every time the Screamer opens his mouth, Marinette's voice comes out. Rattling screams, desperate pleas, broken sobs, poisonous words. Every time, a small part of Chat Noir breaks.
He bends and fissures and cracks and shatters. The night air is cool against the wet tracks on his face, proof of his guilt, of his internalized anger, and his heart aches with such a sickness he wonders fleetingly if he'll throw up. Something inside him trembles with white-hot heat as he grits his teeth and swings his baton down at the villain.
The akumatized thief dodges it effortlessly, easily predicting Chat's reckless abandon as they parry attacks. Chat tries his best to retain a sense of the moment. Tries to remind himself that this isn't Marinette, that she is safe and probably on her way to him now, that nothing the akuma says is truth.
"Chat," he hears Marinette's voice say "stop!" He swipes outwardly with his claws, clipping the Screamer on the shoulder. Chat clenches his jaw tightly as another one of Marinette's screams rips out of the akuma's mouth. "You're hurting me! Chat!"
"Marinette is safe!" Chat isn't sure if he's saying that more for himself or to trick the akuma into thinking that the attacks aren't effective. A vicious growl tears out of his mouth as he pounces, pinning the Screamer to the ground, staff pressed to his neck to keep him down.
Somewhere locked away inside Chat Noir's reasonable side, he knows he ought to be searching for the location of the akuma. That's what Ladybug would do. She's big picture, she's the one with the sensible plans and strategic execution. She is unpredictable and impulsive at times, but he can read her. He's her shadow, her support, her partner. He knows her best.
That's why, even though Chat knows that finding and releasing the akuma is priority, he can't see past the face of the boy lying underneath him. Because that's what Ladybug would do, not Chat. He's the follower. This boy trapped beneath his baton is nothing but a victim - but, no, Chat remembers, that's not right either. With or without the purple shadow on his eyes, the Screamer is a villain. A stranger, a person ready and willing to assault innocents, someone who has threatened Marinette not only once but two times.
And he hurt her.
He breathes out heavily through his nose, resisting the urge to do something stupid. Marinette is fine, he reminds himself. I'm not a vigilante, I'm a hero. I save people I don't spoon out revenge. I'm a hero.
"Chat Noir," Marinette's voice comes to him, sweet and decadent as honey, "please stop hurting me. All you ever do is hurt me."
He stares down at the akuma, heat shivering behind his wide eyed gaze. All reassurances stop short and it's all he can do not to choke on his own breath.
"It's because of you that I was taken. It's because of you. You've ruined my life. He hurt me, Chat Noir."
"Stop," Chat says quietly, the rage a soft snarl caught in his throat. His hands clench around the staff.
"Why don't you just leave me alone? If you left me alone, I might be safe. I would be happier without you. Safer. I never would have been hurt. It's your fault. This is all your fault."
He grits his teeth, and presses against the akuma's throat with the baton. The words hurt because they're true and Chat knows it. His heart seizes, and he didn't think it'd ever be possible to hate himself more than he already did when she ended up in a tabloid article about her love affair with him but he does. "Stop! Shut up! Just shut up!" A sob breaks his voice cleanly in two. His hands shake. "I know, alright!? I - I…"
The Screamer smiles - not in a way that's particularly evil, but the satisfaction is almost just as bad. An akuma mask appears around his face and Chat knows he should be doing something other than sitting there on top of the villain, quivering with every last bit of guilt. His eyes feel hot and they burn with unshed tears.
Hawkmoth is saying something to the Screamer and even when the akuma's hand wraps around Chat's wrist, he can't make his mind move fast enough to tear himself away, can't even see straight well enough to note that the Screamer is inching towards his miraculous.
Suddenly, something squeezes around his chest and shoulders and then he's flying backwards. His baton goes flying off and when he hits the ground on his back several feet away, the wind is knocked out of his chest in a weighty gust. He stares up at the starry sky and the shadow that blocks his view of the moon.
"Are you okay, Chat Noir?" her voice is a painful rasp as she kneels down beside him, but the words are hers and for a moment he is totally and completely and iridescently okay. Her throat sounds as raw as his heart feels and it is a selfish thing when her appearance makes him believe he can't possibly be as awful as he thinks.
If she comes back for him, doesn't that mean he's worth something? If she crouches by his side and looks at him with eyes as wide and desperate as midnight, then doesn't that mean she never blamed him in the first place? Seeing her there brings him out of his head, thousands of miles away from the horrible words the akuma spoke. For just a moment, he allows himself to remember her tender touches and fevered words of admiration spoken in shadows, meant only for him.
It's not enough to earn his own self-forgiveness. Adrien was brought up to fit into the mold of perfection and while he's recognized his own faults, the fact he couldn't live up to that expectation for Marinette just might kill him. If there is anyone he should be perfect for, it should be her. She is more than capable of protecting herself - in fact, she's strong enough to be his protector, too - but she shouldn't have to work double time on that because he was stupid enough to put her in that position. In this case, Chat Noir didn't just fall short of perfect; it was never even in his sights to begin with.
Someday, he thinks with a clinging sort of desperation, half way between hope and despair, I'll make it up to her.
"Just fine, my lady," he lies. His suave bravado is ruined by the way his voice cracks at the end. She retracts her yo-yo from its coiling around him and he rolls to his feet in a crouch beside her lithely. "I'm glad you made it here okay."
She looks him over slowly with a frown. He can't help but stare at the cut over her mask, still angry and oozing blood. Her head must hurt. She must be in a lot of pain. And yet, here she is, saving him like she always does. Him first, the rest later. Is her kindness - her selflessness - really so endless? Chat draws strength from it.
He shifts into a fighting stance, his signature grin pulling crookedly at his lips with near genuinity. "You look good, you know." Tough, invincible, flawless, and utterly too good to be true.
She gives him the slightest hint of a smirk as her eyes snap back to his and she straightens up next to him. "What a clumsy pick up line, kitty, but I'll take it."
He blinks, absorbing her words before snickering. Did she know that he'd been talking about the fact that she was standing here ready to fight and not trying to flirt for once? It's the wrong time for this kind of banter - there is too much at stake - but it feels good to laugh, to feel the cloud of guilt ease away for a moment. Maybe that's why she'd said it.
He goes to reply with something hilariously witty when suddenly fire scrapes up his throat, and his own voice comes out of the akumatized villain standing in front of them. "Pay attention to me."
::::
Ladybug's eyes widen in horror before she takes a defensive stance and clutches her weapon. Chat coughs at the pain, nearly going dizzy with it. He takes a tipsy step to the side to catch his own balance, hand at his throat, gasping for breath.
"Take my voice," she hisses, gripping her yo-yo like a vise. "Leave his." She is acid and a snarling, protective fury at the prospect of this boy leaving any sort of painful mark on Chat. The thief already cut him once. Every inch of her feels bruised but her well being is sturdy enough at the moment. Chat's mental health is already plummeting and she will not let this akuma damage him further, physical or otherwise.
"Lady - " Chat manages to mutter before coughing once more.
The Screamer responds again in Chat's voice. "The only reason I'm here is so I can destroy Chat Noir and take both of your miraculous stones."
"Why just Chat Noir?" Ladybug demands, unable to hold back her tongue.. "Marinette was the one who hit you."
"Ladybug," Chat mutters around the rasp in his voice.
She plows on, clenching her hands at her sides, her yo-yo secured by a white-knuckled fist. "Marinette humiliated you and left you lying there in a puddle."
The Screamer watches with amusement as Chat's protests grow stronger. "Ladybug! You -"
"You were after Marinette. She's the one you should really be -"
"Ladybug!" Chat's voice is a growl now, dark as he crouches beside her, his tail twitching and lashing violently. "Stop."
The akuma begins to walk in a circle around the two of them and they keep their shoulders squared to him as he paces. "That's a simple answer, Ladybug. I would have had this girl named Marinette if Chat Noir hadn't showed up. His tiny human lover is of no interest to me, or Hawkmoth."
Chat seems satisfied with that answer, despite the scowl that remains on his face - she can see it in the way some of the tension in his shoulders lessens. And she knows why. She supposes if a villain admitted that they wanted nothing to do with Adrien she'd feel the same way. Her stomach tightens as a flicker of anxiety crackles across her skin, sharp and sickening.
This akuma, however, is targeting Chat Noir specifically.
"So come and get me then," Chat seethes unevenly, throat throbbing.
And the idiot isn't doing himself any favors. The Screamer merely smirks as he stops his pacing and then he opens his mouth, a blood curdling scream ripping out into the world, tearing the silence like pulling pages out of a book. The sound is piercing, painful, and both Ladybug and Chat Noir flinch as they clap their hands over their ears. The heroes stumble backwards, trying to put space between them and him. The Screamer is faster, though, and he lunges while Chat is taken off guard. Ladybug watches in horror as the two of them go sprawling across the top of the roof, the Screamer pinning Chat Noir down.
"Chat!" she cries out, and she hears the desperation in her voice - it makes her wince. The Screamer can't know about her identity, but if she says his name like that, there's no doubt he'll figure out. And if what Tikki has told her in the past holds true, Hawkmoth can see everything through the eyes of his akuma. The Screamer revealing Ladybug as Marinette would be the beginning of the end.
"I got this, LB!" Chat responds easily, if a bit winded, as he uses one knee caught awkwardly under the akumatized thief to push the villain away. She dashes toward them, wrapping her yo-yo around the Screamer and pulling him as Chat shoves him away. Before either of them can execute their actions perfectly, Chat goes taut and he coughs violently as the Screamer opens his mouth and lets out a blood-curdling yowl.
Ladybug's blood turns to ice at the sound of pure agony that fills the night air. Her knees tremble weakly, but she manages to keep upright with the knowledge that the Screamer is only imitating Chat's pain when he steals his voice.
"Chat, get up! We have to find the akuma!" She shouts as the ice burns so cold it sets her veins on fire. Her fists tighten and she plants her feet, yanking on the string of her yo-yo. The Screamer gasps in surprise when he's pulled backwards by her, and Chat is on him in an instant, hands clawing at the pockets, desperate to end this nightmare already.
A look of victory breaks across his face like a sunrise as he holds up a wallet in the air. "Found it!"
The shared triumph between them creates a smile on her face and she punches her fist into the palm of her other hand. "Break it, Chat!"
The Screamer growls. "Not so fast!"
The scream that pierces the air next is so loud and so devastating that Ladybug goes dizzy, clamping her eyes shut against the attack. Her grip weakens and her head pounds, reminding her that while the suit makes her damn near invincible, she's still hurt underneath the mask. And with the akuma using Chat's voice like this, it's only a matter of time before he becomes injured, too. She's not sure how much her healing light will take care of - she can't let it get any worse.
She falls to her knees, dropping her yo-yo as she cradles her head until the screaming stops. When she squints her eyes open, she's startled to see Chat on the ground, desperately trying to scramble away. From the way his lips are moving, he's protesting profusely, and from the unamused look on the Screamer's face, she guesses that whatever corny pun he dropped was not enough of a distraction. She pulls her hands away from her face, and springs into action.
The Screamer is so consumed by Chat Noir that he doesn't even realize the wallet possessed by his akuma is lying forgotten where the two boys had been struggling. Ladybug ignores it, fury setting every inch of her ablaze when the Screamer bends down and takes Chat by the throat, the other hand moving for Chat's miraculous.
"Lucky charm!" she cries out in a bout of desperation, tossing her weapon in the air. A rush of wind swirls around her and a pocket of light explodes above her head before a pair of earplugs fall into the palm of her outstretched hand. For the first time in her entire superhero career, she isn't at a loss as to what these are for.
Straight forward.
Simple.
Just like her goal.
Stuffing the plugs in her ears, Ladybug thunders across the rooftop, and when she reaches the villain, she reels back her elbow and sends her fist flying squarely at his jaw. A satisfying thunk vibrates between her knuckles and his cheek, giving her a thrill of victory that makes her cry out. The Screamer makes a grunt of surprise as he releases Chat's throat, falling away in shock.
She leans over the gasping akuma, slinging her yo-yo around to secure his arms to his torso, his face outlined in a purple butterfly again. "You," she nearly snarls, "are done for, Hawkmoth. You're done using Marinette to get to Chat Noir, and you're done using Chat Noir to get to me."
The Screamer stares up at her with wild eyes, and almost involuntarily, he opens his mouth and lets out a sound that sends Chat - who had been crawling toward the forgotten wallet - crumbling face first into the rooftop of the old warehouse. Ladybug stands tall still, the earplugs blocking out the worst of the attack and she tightens the string of her yo-yo before bounding over toward the wallet. Ungracefully, she stomps the thing into the ground.
The space of air all around goes suddenly very, very silent.
A rush of relief floods all the cells of Ladybug's body as she reclaims her yo-yo. She feels how tired she is, how hard it is to stand, and how glad she is that finally, this is over.
"Get out of here, little akuma," she whispers eyes following the black butterfly, spinning her yo-yo around. "I free you from evil."
::::
The police take the boy who had been possessed into custody. Chat Noir waits patiently for Ladybug to finish up her last few remarks with the reporters on the corner of the street, arms crossed over his chest, tail twitching. There is so much they need to talk about, but, he thinks, it can wait for another night. He's anxious to take her home to her parents. He feels an itch under his skin that he can't scratch - a desperation to get her out of here, a desire to make her safe, once and for all.
His eyes follow her as her talks with a humble smile on her face, frowning at the way she shifts uncomfortably, trying to maintain her balance on knees that are weak, on a body that has expended too much energy to be okay. With a final nod, she turns her back to the reporters and takes Chat by the elbow, leading him away.
"I need to take you to the hospital," he says as he wraps an arm around her waist and then hoists them into the air on his baton. They land on another roof, and even with him half supporting her, she nearly crumbles to the surface under their feet on impact.
"Chat?" she says and he doesn't think he's ever heard her sound so fragile.
He finds her eyes, all the pain of his throat being torn by screams muted to a dull throb by her lucky magic. "I'm here, my lady," he replies, using the bleached moonlight to observe her cracking expression.
She reaches up without an ounce of hesitation, cupping his face securely in her hands. Her eyes shine in the pearly light with unshed tears and he's overcome with awe once again at how amazing she is. How resilient and brave and self-sacrificing and confident and perfect and wonderful and Marinette she is. He touches the back of her hands with his own softly, the guilt that festers in his chest easing away at her tenderness.
"Are you okay?" she asks, and through the smallest touch he can feel how she's trembling. How she's struggling to stay on her feet. Her miraculous beeps incessantly, signaling the end of her transformation.
His arms are around her in an instant, pressed chest to chest. "Thanks to you, LB," he whispers, rubbing his forehead against hers. "You saved me."
She kisses him. He doesn't expect it - actually, he's taken entirely off guard when she drags his face down to hers and smothers her mouth against his. Before he can respond, she glows in a haze of sparkles and light, and then Marinette is there, tears slipping over her cheeks as she holds him close, as she kisses him with every bit of strength she has left. Chat's eyes slip to a close and he crushes her against him.
A part of him thinks that this is not the right time or place. He still needs to process and work through all the guilt that feels so ingrained into his every pore. She's hurt and her parents are terrified. But, more important than responsibilities or emotional fallout is this moment. Where, somehow, they're both okay and both exhausted and they both need this.
Chat feels it when her knees give out completely and he thinks he should stop now, but she doesn't let him. Her mouth is ruthless, taking and taking and taking until his breath belongs to her and her hands snatch at his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. He feels her name leave him with every sparse exhale and every murmur. It's the only thing he can say because she is the only thing that exists. A perfect, imperfect world fit snugly into the circle of his love-starved arms.
"I'm so afraid!" she gasps, her nose squished against the dimple in his cheek as her lips skim over his jaw. Her face is still damp with tears, voice broken. "Chat," she mumbles, shaking. "Chat, Chat, Chat." She kisses him again on the mouth, fiercely.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles against her, hands clenched into fists at her shoulder blades, her shirt crumpled in his grip. "It's over, Marinette. You're safe."
"I'm not worried about myself, Chat Noir!" She yanks away from him suddenly, eyes wide and he thinks he can suddenly see everything in her gaze. He's never been more in love with her than he is right now at this very moment. "You - Chat Noir, you -!" Whatever she's trying to say isn't enough to be put into words and he can see that.
Marinette has never said it out loud, but the way she's looking at him right now - like he is an entire galaxy and she's afraid all the stars are about to die out - brings the revelation down on him like a strike of lightning. They've spent two years together, dancing around each other's dual identities and maybe he mourns what they could have been if they'd been able to share their secrets from the start.
But the strong friendship that lies under this star-filled gaze of hers is what makes him sure that he will belong to her forever. Her concern, mixed with his guilt, is too much. Like water pouring from a spout, his heart fills up with warmth, heat in his cheeks, behind his eyes, and then he's crying.
"Chat?" she squeaks, cupping his face again as tears slip over the cover of his mask.
"No one has ever loved me the way you do," he says softly, almost immediately after she speaks, so that she knows he's not in pain. She stares up at him and awe and he offers her a crooked smile as he reaches up and brushes the bangs back from her eyes.
His gaze lingers on the small slit of a cut on her forehead, almost completely healed by her healing light, and then he turns his eyes back to her expression. More tears leak out. "Natalie ignores me. My father ignores me. My mother left me. But you. . .you love me so much." He presses his forehead down on hers, on the side that isn't injured. "Thank you, Marinette."
She laughs, but in a way that makes him feel endearing, not ridiculed. "Thanking me," she mumbles to herself, sniffling as she strokes his jaw. "It's not like you make it hard, kitty. Those people who have had you don't cherish you. That's on them, and they're missing out. Maybe that's why you feel like you have to do something or be someone specific to deserve love." Marinette sighs. "But you don't. You're enough."
He wraps his arms back around her and then dips down so that his face is pressed against her neck. If she says another word he'll crumble to the ground and he'll never get back up. "You're amazing," he whispers into her skin. "Thank you. Thank you."
They stay like that for as long as Chat's conscious will allow. As much as he'd prefer to stay there with his head buried against her, breathing in her smell, feeling her warmth, until the sun came up, her parents will have seen Chat Noir on the TV by now. They'll be expecting him to bring Marinette home.
So he does. Scooping her up into his arms she makes a startled squeal and flings her arms around his neck. "What are you doing?!"
He smiles at her as he locks her legs around his waist. "Your parents are very worried about you. I promised I'd bring you home."
"You talked to them? Are they okay? My mom -"
"She's fine. Just worried," he soothes, walking over to the roof edge and lowering them. She holds on fast as he uses his claws and cat-like footing to climb down the wall.
"Was she mad at you?" Marinette questions, almost too soft for him to hear.
He thinks for a moment before responding, landing gently on the ground in a near-crouch. "Not. . .mad."
"That doesn't sound convincing."
"It's hard to explain."
Both of them are quiet as he sneaks through the more shadowy streets of Paris to bring Marinette home. She hugs him as he walks in a trot, her grip never once loosening. His own arms keep her secure and it's peaceful. An off-set stillness settles over them, but it's not bad. After everything that happened in the past two weeks - the reveal, the news headlines, the akuma - their hearts are still racing, still watching the shadows for eyes.
But they are alone and safe, and it'll take some getting used to.
When they reach the alley over from Marinette's house, she untangles her legs and slips to the ground, steadying herself against him.
"Chat, I'm going to tell my parents I broke up with you," she says without preamble.
He grins even as he plays the part of a wounded cat. "Was it something I did?"
She rolls her eyes. "I'm serious. No more Chat Noir in my room. I'm going to make an official statement tomorrow and hopefully all these people fascinated with us will leave me alone."
He hums and then kisses her briefly. "I like it when you're serious."
"One of us has to be the adult."
"Me-ouch."
"Dork." She kisses him back. "I'll text you, before I go to bed."
"Don't forget - I might stay up all night waiting if you don't."
"Alright, alright." She smiles and reaches for his hand. "I want you to walk me to my door at least. Are you comfortable with that?"
He thinks the hardest confrontation with her parents has already passed, so even though his stomach clenches with a touch of anxiety, he nods. "Yeah."
Her fingers thread through his and she clings to him as she pulls him, still a little shaky on her feet, out from the alley and to her front door. She goes to say something to him but the door is pulled open and suddenly, her parents are there, pulling her into a hug. Her hand is ripped from his, and he folds his arms behind his back, smiling as he watches. He's grateful that her family loves her so much.
Mr. Dupain doesn't let go of Marinette and she holds onto him fast, too, as Sabine pulls away of the group hug and meets his gaze from over her daughter's shoulder.
"Thank you," she says, her voice full of motherly warmth.
Marinette pulls away from her father. "Chat Noir saved me. Please don't be mad at him."
Chat smiles awkwardly. "I just wanted to see her home to be sure she was safe," he says, channeling as much of his formal Adrien charm as he can.
Tom surprises everyone - most of all Chat himself - when steps away from his daughter and gives Chat a hug. "Thank you!" Mr. Dupain says, his voice colored with relief and gratitude. He pulls back and Chat watches in awe, feeling warm. How long has it been since he's been shown parental affection at all?
He rubs the back of his head bashfully and straightens his shoulders. "She'll be safe from now on. I promise." With a shy smile, he looks back to Marinette. "Bye, Marinette."
She gives her parents one lingering look and then turns back to Chat, throwing her arms around him. A nervous blush erupts across his face as he feels her parents watching the two of them intensely. He can only bring himself to smooth his hand over the back of her head and rub her back, returning the hug briefly, before taking her by the shoulders and pushing her away.
"I get the feeling your parents aren't cat people," he whispers with a grin.
"They had a bad experience with a pesky stray," she giggles.
"Stop laughing. You're breaking up with your handsome boyfriend; you're supposed to be heartbroken."
That only makes her laugh harder, and loudly, she responds. "You're awful, Chat Noir." Her eyes sparkle with humor. "Don't be a stranger. Come by the shop and say hi to us anytime."
Immediately unsure about that, he glances over at her parents who now look subtly amused by the exchange between them. At least they don't look angry anymore. Still, for as fresh as all this drama is, a clean break is best for now. He turns his attention back to Marinette. "Saving Paris is a full time job. I'll see what I can do."
Her smile turns soft. "Bye, Chat."
He gives her his signature, two-finger salute and then catapults into the air using his baton. By the time he finally reaches his house and crawls back in through the bathroom window, the guilt that had been so potent earlier has finally eased away.
Marinette has forgiven him. Never even blamed him at all. Shouldn't that have been enough? Of course it is. Whatever she is, whatever she gives him, it will always be enough. Her parents were kind to him. He still has much to do, as far as his relationship with Marinette as Adrien can go with his father around, but that's for another day.
For now, he's okay. Marinette is okay. They are going to be okay.
"Plagg?" he calls on his kwami who, now full of cheese, is snuggled up on the edge of Adrien's pillow.
"What? I'm trying to sleep, kid. You really kept me out all night."
"I know," Adrien replies with a smile as he shifts his head on the pillow. "Thanks for lending me your strength. That's all I wanted to say."
Plagg sounds appeased. "Finally, some appreciation."
"Don't get used to it."
Another beat of silence and then, the kwami says, softly. "Adrien, you did good."
