"Adrien!" Tom exclaimed in greeting, as I entered the bakery. "How are you son?"

I had just finished up fencing practice a few minutes earlier and decided to stop by Marinette's house. It had been over a week since Marinette had stayed home sick, but, even though she had been to school, today, like every other day, she had left as soon as the bell rang.

"As well as can be expected, given the circumstances," I replied, returning the baker's kind smile. This was the first time I had seen him since my father's arrest.

Tom nodded in understanding. "Of course. That must have been quite traumatic."

Sabine, who had been pulling bread out of the oven, came over and enveloped me in a warm embrace. "Well, you let us know if there's anything you need, Adrien. Marinette too. We're always here for you, dear." She gave me a soft, motherly smile. "How about a passion fruit macaron? Marinette tells me they're your favourite."

I nodded. "Yes please!" Sabine opened up a container of fresh macarons from the counter. As she turned back towards me, I took the opportunity to get down to what I was really doing at the bakery.

"Speaking of Marinette," I said hesitantly. "I actually wanted to visit her. Is she upstairs?"

Tom and Sabine looked at one another, worry in their eyes.

Tom shook his head. "She hasn't come home since school ended today. It's been like this every day for the past week. We were wondering if we should go look for her, especially after what she's been like the past couple of days."

"We don't know what to think." Sabine sighed. "We don't know what happened and she won't talk about it. We were surprised she left her room last week, let alone went to school."

"Would you like me to go look for her?" I asked. "That way you can stay with the shop."

The couple looked at me in gratitude. "Would you, dear?" Sabine asked. "That's ever so kind of you."

"Of course," I responded. "Marinette is one of my best friends. I'll make sure she gets home safely. Maybe I can cheer her up a bit along the way."

I left the bakery and made my way down the street. I had a few ideas as to where Marinette could be.

As I walked, I couldn't help but think of the real reason I wanted to see her. Ever since I turned in my Miraculous, I had felt like something was missing. Maybe it was seeing Ladybug. Maybe it was Plagg's sarcastic comments and cheese-related advice. Maybe it was just the feeling of being free that came with wearing a mask and having superpowers. Whatever it was had left a gaping hole in me, one that I was struggling to fill.

But I had to let it go. I knew that as soon as I saw LB on our first patrol after defeating Hawkmoth. She had smiled at me and called me "Chaton". She was excited; we had just fought our arch-nemesis and won, after all. We were still Paris's heroes, the daring duo. She was My Lady and I was her trusted partner. It was as if nothing between us had changed, except that everything had and she didn't know it.

Because Hawkmoth was my father. I was the son of our sworn enemy, the person who had tried to kill us more times than I could count. The man that had used negative emotions to wreak havoc upon the city for his own selfish gains.

And that was the worst thing of all: I couldn't say for sure that I wouldn't have done the same thing, if I were in my father's position. Would my love for my mother have surpassed my sense of doing good? Would my greed have overcome my judgement?

The fact that I couldn't answer those questions didn't help at all. Was I really any better than Hawkmoth? Did I really deserve the trust Ladybug had given me?

That was why I wanted to see Marinette. She had this way of speaking that helped me calm the storm in my head, even if I couldn't tell her exactly what was wrong. I needed someone I could be myself around. I also knew in my heart that Marinette would never judge me for my father's actions, unlike a lot of the press and students in class with me.

After trying a few of Marinette's usual haunts, I approached one of the last ones on my list: the Champ de Mars under the Eiffel Tower. As soon as I saw the emerald green of the trees and grass I had a strong feeling that I would find her there.

Five minutes later, I saw her sitting on a bench, side facing me. Her raven-blue hair hung loose about her shoulders, waving slightly in the breeze. As I moved toward her, I could see she was hunched over what appeared to be her sketchbook. I smiled at the sight. Marinette was such a talented designer and I was glad to see that she was doing something she loved instead of brooding.

But then my smile faded as I got closer. Although the book was open and a pencil was in her hand, she wasn't drawing. She was writing, the pencil gripped so tightly her knuckles were white. Her eyes looked empty as if she didn't realise what she was doing. I caught a glimpse of the page before I dared to sit on the bench beside her. Dark, harshly scrawled words and phrases cluttered the page. Many were written one on top of another making them difficult to read, but the words I could see turned my blood cold.

Liar. I'm sorry. Love. Why? Gone. Repeated over and over.

"Marinette?" I said, hesitantly.

She blinked slowly,as if waking from a trance. She noticed me sitting next to her and yelped in surprise, jumping backwards, her arms flailing in the air. I caught her hand just before she fell off the bench entirely.

Marinette righted herself hastily and turned to me, composing her expression.

"Adrien," she said in greeting. "I didn't expect to see you here."

I smiled slightly. "I know. I stopped by the bakery to see you but your parents said you were still out. They were worried, so I volunteered to go look for you."

"Of course you did," Marinette replied. "And you found me."

I nodded and found myself glad that Marinette and I could carry out a normal conversation now. When we had first met, about six years ago, when we were 12, Marinette could barely complete a full sentence in front of me without stuttering and turning red in the face. I had attributed it to her being nervous of me because I was a model and the son of her fashion idol. I always felt guilty that I had caused her such embarrassment. Luckily, she had grown more comfortable around me, even if it had taken a couple years. I now considered Marinette to be one of my closest friends and my confidant.

I tilted my head towards her now closed sketchbook. "So….working on any new projects lately? I know you like to come out here for inspiration."

Marinette sighed. "Yeah, I do like to come out here, but I haven't been feeling very inspired lately. Ever since…" she paused, her gaze flickering up to where the top of the Eiffel Tower stood against the blue of the sky. "No...nevermind." Her pencil could almost be groaning in pain at how hard she was holding it. I was surprised it didn't break. "My mind has just been blank," she continued. "Everytime I try to think of something to design, my brain just shuts down. It's like I can't help but think of the one thing I'm trying to forget."

Her hands balled into fists on her thighs, so I reached over to grab one. She jumped a little in surprise but didn't pull away.

"Marinette," I said gently. Her sky blue eyes turned to meet mine. "We're all really worried about you. Please, will you tell me what happened? I can't bear to see you like this."

She averted her eyes guiltily. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't want to worry anyone. And I'm fine, really, or at least, I will be. I just lost something that was very important to me and I didn't know how to handle it."

I frowned at her. "You know that your friends are always here for you, right? Alya, Nino and me, whatever it is, we want to help and support you."

"I know. It wasn't really something I could talk about then. Maybe sometime, though." Then Marinette scowled. "What am I doing, burdening you with my problems when you have so many of your own. Are you doing okay? How is home life after...you know…?"

I smiled a little. This was more the Marinette I knew, always looking out for others before herself. "I'm okay Marinette. It's been a little lonely at home, but then again, it was usually like that anyways. Since my dad and Nathalie are waiting for their trial, Gorilla has been given temporary custody of me until I turn 18. But that feels so far away and I can't help wishing that I didn't have to stay in such an empty house." I shivered. "Especially considering what went on in the basement. It feels like the house is haunted or something."

Marinette looked thoughtful for a moment. She opened her mouth, then reconsidered and stayed silent. Looking at her watch, she started packing her things into her bag. "I'm sorry, Adrien. I think I really should be getting home."

I stood and extended my hand. "It's okay. I'll walk you back. I promised your parents after all."

She smiled and grabbed my hand. As she stood, I saw her take an almost sad last look towards the Eiffel Tower. I offered her my arm. "Shall we?"

She looked at me, skeptical. "What will the press think if they see us like that? I don't want to make your life any harder."

"Marinette, my father is in prison for being a terrorist, I doubt the press could make a bigger scandal if they tried. Anyway, it's not like I'm in a relationship with someone else."

She stared at me for a while, before accepting my arm.

"Okay Agreste. You can be my escort for the evening."

Pleased that I had appeared to get Marinette into higher spirits, I started walking. Even though she hadn't revealed the whole story, I was glad she had at least talked to me. It was a start.