**A/N: This is it! This is the chapter that started it all. The one I used as a teaser back in September. It has evolved a little bit, and I hope for the better. The whole thing was inspired by the song "Why We Lose" by Cartoon and featuring Coleman Trapp.**


CHAPTER 11: TRUTH

I was eerily calm when I woke up, my mind still briefly blank. My emotions were more in check after sobbing myself to sleep. There was still a melancholy, but not an overwhelming sadness and sense of defeat. I stayed still as I took in my room. My soft pillow under my head, the warmth of my blanket draped around me, the crispness of the air still wafting in through my window.

The same one I leapt through earlier.

My heart condensed into a rock that ripped through my stomach. I had leapt through that window after my pathetic show as a superhero against Terravenger. Ladybug had tried to tell me otherwise, but I still felt like I failed her.

I wanted to crying again, but my eyes stayed dry. What was done was done, and Paris was saved regardless. I had to figure out a way to make it up to Ladybug, but that wasn't my priority. My priority was to figure out how to get myself out of the mess I dove into, so I would never be that pathetic a partner again. Assuming I would still be her partner.

I rolled over to look at my desk. It was late; hours after Ladybug had saved the day. Plagg was nestled inside a nearly empty Camembert container that he had floated up from the mini-fridge. I wondered if he had any cheese left after getting it back from the encroaching vines, or if he had greedily devoured it all. It didn't matter. I could get him more easily enough. It was the least I could do for him sticking by me all this time.

Next to Plagg was a red string with an assortment of plastic beads strung across it: Marinette's good luck charm. I had taken it out of my jeans pocket the night before; during my withdrawal symptoms. At first I thought it would calm me, like it nearly did that second night. Then I just wanted it out of my pocket; away from me. I didn't deserve the gift, and I wanted nothing to do with it.

I didn't get very far with getting rid of the bracelet. I never figured out what to do: hide it somewhere, stash it in with my valuables, pack it and have Nathalie put it in storage, send it back to Marinette, throw it out? So on my desk it sat; calling out to me. Mocking me.

Marinette knew you'd like this, it taunted. Marinette was able to do a nice thing to cheer you up. She could always find a way to cheer you up. She's such a great friend, and you repay her by spying on her. Betraying her trust.

I sighed. My chest ached with heartburn. I couldn't handle the charm mocking me, so I got up and shoved it in the same hiding place as my unsigned valentine's day card. I just needed it out of my sight, but I also still needed it safe.

I was pathetic.

I had waited long enough. Put it off long enough. Given enough excuses to try to justify my procrastination. I could have procrastinated longer: it was nearly eleven. I could wait another day to confess to Marinette.

But, I really couldn't. I still had no clue how to interact with her the next day with all of this on my conscience. She'd be smiling that goofy, toothy grin as she gave me the soup she made; hoping it would help with my recovery from an illness I didn't even have. She'd check in on me to make sure I was alright, and I'd have to lie and say "yes" to make sure she wouldn't worry. I'd have to go the whole day pretending everything was alright while my insides would be churned into butter.

I mean, I'd have to do all of that anyway, but with the added bonus of her being repulsed by Chat Noir if I confessed. On the flip side, at least she'd know. She deserved to know. With everything she tried to do for me, the very least I could do was let her know. And promise I'd never do it again. Not that it would matter at that point.

I hated it, but I had decided. Without any of the fervor I normally had, I held up my hand. "Plagg," I sighed, almost afraid to say the next two words. "Claws out."

He got sucked into my ring and a green light glowed around me. I didn't go through my normal joyous routine of spreading my mask on, messing my hair as the ears popped up, or clawing at the air around me as I was draped in my leather-like costume. Instead, I stood still with my arms straight out to each side and with my eyes closed; letting the transformation just happen to me.

Once I was Chat Noir, I stood solemnly in the middle of my room. My eyes slowly raised to the open window. I knew where I needed to head, but I just wanted to hide in my bed again. I had already failed Ladybug that day, I really didn't want to add Marinette to the list.

"I have to. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep putting it off." I took a deep breath and jumped up into the window. I scanned the streets. Maybe I was hoping that I would be distracted again, like when Marinette came to drop off the soup this afternoon.

My stomach dropped into my knees. Further proof that she was a much better friend. I would have never thought to bring her anything to help her recover from an illness. Man, I suck.

Choking down some bile, I leapt over to the fence around my father's house, and then another leap into the park leading to Marinette's home. The place looked exactly like it once did; not a trace of Terravenger or a battle in the park was left behind. Of course there wasn't. Ladybug's restorative powers were exactly as the name implied: miraculous. It still amazed me that such grave destruction could happen to Paris, and with two words it could all be erased as if Paris was never touched by anything foul.

In a minute or two I was at the Ladybug and Chat Noir statue. I paused at the monument and fought back the urge to use Cataclysm on my bronzed face. I wanted to wipe myself off that tribute. Ladybug was the only one who deserved to be on a pedestal. I stared myself down.

"You're no superhero. You're only a super-loser."

The bronzed version of me just grinned dumbly. He didn't care what I thought of Chat Noir. He was simply happy to be there. My eyes drifted to the Ladybug part of the statue. She was leaping off Chat Noir's back. He was supporting her. If he wasn't there, she couldn't be.

"I can't be Ladybug without you. I never would have if it weren't for your encouragement." I heard her words ring through my head. I leapt up onto the pedestal of the statue in order to look upon her better. My heart eased. I was expecting it to run rampant out of guilt, fear, or regret. Yet, seeing that smile on her statue, I somehow knew that she was telling me the truth.

Once more I had screwed up. In my opinion it was way worse than whenever I got brainwashed by an akumatized supervillain, because I was fully in charge of my mind and body, and I still failed. Yet Ladybug continued to remind me that she believed in me; trusted me. That we were partners: always.

"We're cool, right?"

"Always."

Marinette had reassured me that we'd always be friends. Regardless of what she thought of Chat Noir, maybe Marinette's friendship with Adrien could survive. Didn't mean I really wanted to test that theory though. I stared up at Marinette's room, and prayed that she'd be asleep already. It was about eleven on a school night.

Thing is, black cats don't have good luck; kind of the point of my powers. The light was still on in Marinette's attic bedroom; flooding the top floor of the Dupain-Cheng bakery. This was it. This was going to be the last night I would creep up to Marinette's room. This was the last time I'd watch her without her knowledge. It was possibly the last time I'd see her at all as Chat Noir. I was finding it hard to swallow, but I used my baton to shoot myself up to the window facing Place des Vosges.

I landed just above the drain pipe that ran across the third floor, and secured my baton to my back. I motioned to tap on her window, but my fist stopped mid-air. She was dancing again. Dear lord, she was dancing in her room, and it made me freeze.

She had her pajamas on: little pink shorts with white cherry blossoms on them, and a matching white spaghetti top adorned with a tiny black bow at the center of the neckline. She wasn't listening to Jagged Stone this time. It was electronica, but not the soulless sound of XY. It had a haunting synth whine, a gritty guitar melody, an empowering drum build, and mournful vocals. The whole thing pumped melancholic energy into the air, but it was somehow sensual at the same time.

And there she was, in those pajamas, swaying her hips and bobbing her head to the slow build of the music. She was packing up her homework into her bag as she fluidly moved to the alluring melody. Once everything was picked up off her desk, she zipped her bag closed; getting her shoulders into the hypnotizing wave of her body. Lifting the bag over her head with one hand, she twirled over to her chaise and rested it at the foot.

I tucked under her window sill to make sure she didn't see me, but she remained facing the other way. I peeked back in as she slithered over to her full length mirror. She started pulling her hair out of her pigtails just as the bass climbed up in intensity with a reverberating synth tone. The bass dropped, the pace of the song doubled, and Marinette shook her hair loose with enough fervor that her whole body convulsed with the beat.

The music erupted into the pounding chorus riff. Marinette skated across her bedroom floor like a ballerina transitioning into hip hop. Her freely loosened hair cascaded over her shoulders, waving wildly as she tossed her head to the song. Her ebony locks flung into her face, but in another bob of her head they were out of the way again. She jumped up onto her chaise before twirling and sliding back onto the floor.

She was so dizzying to watch that I began seeing deep pink streaks of light jet around her, just as I did when I watched her dancing to Jagged Stone. I blinked a couple of times to re-adjust and the pink streaks were gone. Must have been a trick of the light combined with the pink of her shorts.

Marinette was still clueless of my watching her as she continued to dance. She hopped up a couple of stairs towards her bed before dropping back off. Landing with one knee in her computer chair, she spun it across her room, using her free foot to drag and direct the chair's dancing.

As she neared the window I was watching from, I ducked against the roof so she wouldn't notice me. Tonight was not the night to be caught. I couldn't confess simply because she caught me. I had to confess out of honest guilt. I pressed my head against the shingles of her roof and listened. I heard the pounding of the bass beat, the sorrowful synth whine, and the encouraging pain in the singer's voice. There was also the padding of Marinette's bare feet against her floor as she danced. I didn't dare to look again; she was still too close to the window. Instead I just stayed frozen against that roof, eyes closed, and picturing her dance. My heart raced.

Stop projecting, I scolded myself. I couldn't help it, though. Seeing the smooth lines of Marinette's bare arms and legs reminded me so much of Ladybug that as I pictured my classmate dancing around her room I didn't picture her in the pajamas. I pictured her gracefully leaping around her room in Ladybug's costume. Then I realized I was just picturing Ladybug in Marinette's room.

"What is wrong with me?" I softly hissed.

"Marinette?"

I jumped, and nearly fell off the building as I heard Mrs. Cheng's voice. I wasn't sure what would be worse, Marinette catching me peeping, or her parents. Mr. Dupain seemed like a gentle giant, but I definitely didn't want to see if he had a temper when provoked.

With my own jumping, I almost didn't notice Marinette getting just as startled; tripping over her backpack as her mother's voice broke the spell of agility the music had cast on her. As she always seemed to do while in her room, Marinette recovered with a few simple hops before catching her balance and standing on both feet again.

"Y-yeah, Mom?" She timidly called back down through her bedroom trapdoor.

"It's past eleven and you have school tomorrow. Turn off the music and go to bed already. You're late often enough as it is without being a night owl." The woman's voice was stern but also soothed with maternal care. Anyone who heard it could tell that she meant business, but wasn't harsh about it.

"Sorry, Mom. You're right. I'll go to bed. Night. Love you."

My heart sank past my stomach as I heard Marinette's response. It wasn't her voice, or how she replied with equal parts meek and energized. It was the fact that she had someone checking in on her to make sure she got enough sleep. It was the fact that Marinette had someone to say goodnight to. I couldn't recall the last time I saw my father past dinner. I don't remember if I've ever told him goodnight, at least, not as the last thing I said to anyone before going to bed. Same went for Nathalie or the Gorilla. If I did bother to say goodnight to any of them, it was generally hours before I went to bed, when we realized we wouldn't see each other anymore that day. Saying goodnight as the last thing spoken before bed? I don't think I've done that since Mom disappeared.

I choked back some tears as my pain was emphasized by the melancholic sound of the song Marinette had been listening to. The song ended, and there was silence as Marinette turned her computer off. All at once, I wanted desperately to run into that room and just hug her; thank her for the last few moments, and for attempting to give me the soup. I also wanted to stay pressed against her roof, or even climb to her balcony, and just rest there, knowing that I was at a loving home; the same reason I started coming to Marinette's house as Chat Noir in the first place. Finally, I wanted to take that warm feeling and just sprint home so it could tuck me in, and maybe I could get a good night's rest.

The only thing I was certain of was that I didn't want to ruin anything by confessing to Marinette what I had been doing. I couldn't throw away this sanctuary I built. I felt guilty, but I also felt the most at peace at this home. I wasn't just some guest like I was at Nino's. I was silent. I was unnoticed. I was part of the building, and I could experience the raw, unfiltered wholeness of Marinette's family.

I hated myself for slipping again. I was better than this. Marinette and Ladybug both deserved me to be better than this. Tears streaked my mask as I realized that I just couldn't bring myself to let Marinette know, and give all of this calm. Give up my mental zen garden. I pushed myself into a pouncing position so I could hurry home before my conscience could kick in.

Then two words choked me into staying.

"Night, Tikki," Marinette yawned softly in her room. She was already up in her bed on the other side of the attic bedroom. I wasn't actively paying attention. Yet the sudden stillness of the night made my heightened hearing zero in on those two words.

Night. Tikki. Who was she talking to? She didn't have any pets. She wouldn't call her parents by their name, and Tikki wasn't her mother's name anyway. We didn't have any classmates named Tikki, so it couldn't have been anyone she might have had on the phone. Besides, why would she dance around her room if she was on the phone with someone? I felt like I had heard the name before. Somewhere, but I couldn't place it.

Tikki. The name rang out in my mind, creating a small, dark spiral hinting at who Tikki was. The darkness threatening to consume my mind was countered by a microscopic flame of hope starting in my chest. It couldn't be true. There was no way. But it also made sense somehow. I had to check. I didn't care how much of a creeper I was, I scurried up to Marinette's balcony, and peeked into her skylight.

Marinette had already snuggled against the cat body pillow that curved along the head of her bed. Her eyes were closed as she curled into awaiting slumber. She was adorable, but my focus was on a small deep pink spot on the pillow next to her.

I couldn't quite tell what it was, but it had a bulbous head, and a small body with two arms and two legs, but no distinguishable hands or feet. On its forehead, and each side of its face, was a large, black spot.

I forgot how to breathe. My heart stopped beating, but there was deafening pounding in my ears. My muscles locked up and became jelly at the same time. I felt like I was going to vomit. I felt like I was lighter than air. I was hot. I had a chill.

The pink thing looked so similar to Plagg's body type. I couldn't think of any other explanation: it was a kwami. It was Ladybug's kwami, just like Plagg was Chat Noir's. Just like Plagg was mine. This was Marinette's kwami. This was Ladybug.

I sprinted to the banister on the opposite side of Marinette's balcony and tried to force air back into my lungs. Paris spun around me, and I had to collapse to the floor.

That night that Marinette drew the sundress, and I thought she was talking to herself. When I thought I heard an echo while Marinette was struggling with her homework. The times people thought she was talking to her purse. The other night when she was dancing to Jagged Stone and I thought I saw pink streaks of light around her. Just a few minutes ago, when I once again thought I had been imagining the pink blur following her as she danced. Was it all Ladybug's kwami that whole time?

"Plagg, claws in!" I was louder than I wanted, but managed to keep my voice low enough that it didn't seem like Marinette heard me. My voice was panicked, calm, excited, terrified, confident, and confused. There was also a bit of a prepubescent-like squeak that I hoped Plagg wouldn't tease me about. Thankfully, he had his own concerns.

"Was that?" His eyes were wide and pleading. I had never seen Plagg like this: just as shaken as I was. He was normally so lackadaisical that I hoped his lethargic nature would calm me. The kwami never failed to break my expectations of him as he zipped over to Marinette's skylight.

"It is her! It's Tikki!" Plagg's voice was strained as he fought back emotions, which, frankly, I didn't realize he had outside his love for Camembert. He lingered, silent, at the window.

"Plagg," I whined, "Get back over here."

He stayed by the window a long moment more before sadly drifting back over to me, keeping an eye on the window the whole time.

"That's- that's Ladybug's kwami, right?" My voice was tight as I mentally begged for him to tell me yes.

"That's Tikki." He had a longing in his reply, a coo that had a joy behind it, like when he just had a good laugh at my expense.

"But Tikki is Ladybug's kwami, right? Does- Is Marinette Ladybug?" I wanted to reach out and grab him. I wanted to press him against my nose so he had to focus on me. I shook as I waited his confirmation.

His wistfulness broke away from him as if he just awoke from being akumatized.

"You did it, Adrien! You found your Ladybug! Don't just sit here, come on, let's go tell her!"

My chest swelled with a warm burst and a chill ran up my back. She was right there. She was sleeping not even a meter below me. I had found her! I had found my Ladybug!

Why wasn't I excited? Why was I scared? Wasn't this the best of both worlds? I had always loved Ladybug, and I felt like I was betraying that love because I was growing a crush on Marinette. I didn't need to feel guilty; I was just falling for the other side of her.

Was I, though? I never thought about Marinette in a romantic sense before I started picturing her as Ladybug. Was that it? Did I only love her Ladybug half? I would want her to love both my Chat Noir and Adrien sides, but could I truly say that I loved her as both Ladybug and Marinette?

"Plagg, Claws Out!"

"Adrien, wait-"

I was Chat Noir again before he could protest, and I raced home. I ran from Marinette. I ran from Ladybug. I ran from the Dupain-Cheng house. I ran from all the confusion. I ran.


**A/N: Poor guy. He ALMOST figured it out completely on his own.

Last year I was in a slump. I wanted to kill some time while eating dinner, and decided to see what all the fuss was about with "Miraculous Ladybug." I was hooked pretty quickly. That was July. For August I was part of a summer writing challenge, and I challenged myself to write a new prompt each day. I sat in my room and listened to "Why We Lose" while trying to figure out a different prompt, and this chapter popped into my head. Specifically, Marinette dancing to the song and Chat Noir watching her. I polished it up and posted it in September, but I knew there was more there. For November's NaNoWriMo I wrote the rest of "Peeping Tomcat." It was a struggle, but you can check out my blog for details. I took a break in December, and started editing January through March. Which brings us to the version you've been reading. Such a journey, but I'm so glad to be on it.

Thank you for being on it with me. Love you all!

See you next Friday!**