Recontre

Days passed since our victory against Stoneheart. I didn't wake up in a hospital bed with my family next to me, with my best friend next to me. No, instead I go to sleep and wake up as Marinette.

"Marinette," Marinette's mom says as I'm halfway out the door, the word bursting with meaning.

I stop because it's expected of me but can't bring myself to say anything.

"Have a nice day, sweetheart," she says quietly – and what else can she say.

I grip the new box of macarons more tightly than is probably safe.

"Thanks, mom."

I fly out of the bakery like a bat out of hell.

School, thankfully, isn't far from home and I've managed to memorize the route there with little difficulty. Ladybug or not, there won't be any tardiness from this Marinette, not while I'm in charge.

The word 'lazy' rings in my ears though no one here has spoken it to me and I can't shake it.

I make it to school on time and present the box of macarons to Marinette's class with her teacher's permission, issuing a small apology for interrupting class days in to do so.

"The last box had a little accident, you could say," I offer up, brushing Marinette's bangs back anxiously. "I hope you guys enjoy them."

I pass them out without making eye contact with anyone. I know I need to make friends with Alya and Nino at the very least due to their futures as Rena Rouge and Carapace, but I missed my initial opportunity and don't know how to start over. For one, I wasn't even sitting next to Alya. Since I'd made a beeline for Chloe's old seat on the first day of school, she'd taken the seat next to Alya to be closer to Adrien with little trouble and I was stuck next to Sabrina.

Marinette's classmates seem grateful for the treats, at any rate – I return a slight smile and a nod to each 'thanks' I receive, but I can't bring myself to actually look at anyone.

Especially not Adrien, whose sunny 'thank you!' makes a wave of sharp, sudden nausea turn my stomach. I hold out the box for Nino to take one and practically flee back to my seat.

The day ends without me working up the nerve to talk to the people I know I should be talking to. The next day ends the same. I speak when spoken to, only in response to Marinette's teacher, my answers quiet and succinct. I go through the motions of Marinette's life like I am made of wood, withdrawing from everyone around her because she is no longer here.

The only person other than Tikki I have any real, meaningful human interaction with is Chat Noir, who never knew Ladybug as Marinette. We fight together, Chat Noir and I – behind the red mask, with Tikki's power coursing through my veins, I am alive.

"Wait – milady!" Chat called out when we'd taken care of the akuma. What a mess, I'd thought…

"Are you alright, Chat?" I asked him, a bit concerned. I was usually gone the moment we were done, so I didn't know if it was out of character or not for him to call me out.

His cheeks pinked – just a little, nothing to worry about.

"I'm fine," he blurted, and while I felt a little bad that he was so awkward around me, I was more relieved for it than anything – this Chat didn't flirt with me like Chat did with Marinette as Ladybug.

"I'm glad," I told him, wishing for a brief moment that I knew some way to convey the sincerity behind the words. "Take care of yourself, okay? I don't know what I'd do without you."

He perked up, a wide grin slipping over his mouth and I couldn't help but beam back.

"Milady," he started, and then shook his head, gazing at me rather fondly. "I will. You take care of yourself, too."

I saluted him instead of answering – because I couldn't promise him that.

"Bug out!" I cried, making use of the traces of adrenaline still pumping through my blood to make a fabulous exit.

I never looked back to see his wistful gaze trailing behind me.

"Until next time, milady."

To be honest, Chat Noir and Adrien Agreste, no matter that I know the truth, become two completely separate people in my mind (much like Ladybug and Marinette Dupain-Cheng). Adrien Agreste is another face in the crowd at school and I pay him no notice.

I drown in Marinette's day to day life, unable to do more than fake a smile for her parents and assure them as best I can that 'everything is fine.' I make it a point to get grades that place me above Marinette's teachers' scrutiny, and…

And I cling to being Ladybug, rely so heavily on Tikki that I risk calling attention to her throughout the day just for her to reassure me that she's there.

"Breathe," Tikki whispers anxiously, and I take in a shaky breath of air and wonder for a split second how long it has been since I last inhaled.

She doesn't say my name because I don't remember it, and she doesn't call me by Marinette's name because I flinch like a kicked dog when I hear it.

"Sorry, Tikki," I whisper back, clutching my bag carefully close to remind myself that she's there, that I'm not alone. She smiles kindly at me and I feel like my lungs can freely expand and contract again.

She cuddles into me through my bag – I can feel her there through the soft nest of the 'spare' t-shirt I carry in my bag for her comfort – and I manage to focus again on what the teacher is saying.

I am staring with blank eyes at the door when that same panic starts to bubble up in my throat again. What am I doing? I don't belong here. I'm not Marinette. I wasn't meant to – to settle into this life, into this role.

I was meant to die and stay dead. Instead, I was here.

An eerie calm washed over me at the thought. I couldn't settle here. This is not my home. This is not my life. My life is over. And if it's not – if I'm dreaming in a hospital bed because I've been given a real second chance and not this farce of one – then I owed it to my family to do my best to wake up.

And there it was, that terrible feeling of falling short, of not being enough. The calm washed over me, pushing me mechanically through Marinette's day – and then the guilt settled in.

What am I doing? I can't stay here and pretend everything is well and dandy. This isn't my life and I refuse to live it. I refuse. If I can't go back to my life, I won't live any life at all. It made sense, didn't it?

(I didn't deserve a second chance, and if I did, I didn't deserve this easy life with loving parents and classmates that seemed to care, that could be friends.)

I disgust myself. This was an elaborate fantasy. A world in which there was nothing chemically wrong with my brain and I couldn't do things right anyway.

Class passed me by in a blur. I couldn't focus. All I can think of is that I am a disgrace and I am failing my real family. I lose myself to the kinds of negative thoughts my therapist had tried to talk away with soothing words and gentle, encouraging expressions.

But all my bad thoughts are right. They are true. I think of Marinette's parents – the kind of parents I hated myself for wishing I had had in my real life – and think that they aren't real and if they are, they deserve better than me.

I am swallowed up by these thoughts, and when the bell rings I robotically put my things in my bag, a new resolve forming.

The memory of the pain of the scabs that have formed on Marinette's knees and elbow and palms from saving Master Fu is so distant that it doesn't seem real. I forget about it completely, because all I can think of is that right here, right now, there is no proof that any of this is real.

I am dreaming, and there is only one way I know of to wake up.

If Tikki tries to catch my attention subtly from the bag, I don't notice. I put one foot in front of the other with single-minded determination, plans being formed and discarded in my mind as I go. The last time I tried to kill myself, I had done it the cowards way, overdosing on prescription medicine and pain killers.

I thought of what it was like to be Ladybug and soar, unfettered and free, and all I could think was that this time I would do it right.

My feet took me to the bridge of their own volition. I didn't have to think about it. I just walked there with zero coherent thought in my head past the all-consuming impulse to just do it.

"Marinette! Marinette!" Tikki cries in the distance as I abandon my bag by the railing of the bridge. I didn't hear her over the sound of the cars speeding past or my blood rushing in my ears.

The sun is setting, I note distantly, feeling the warm light on my face and wondering if it were possible for me to go to heaven.

I lean against the railing, quivering at the thought. It will be so easy. All I have to do is jump and then I can be free. I'll fly like Ladybug and then there will be blessed nothing, or I will be home again (to try again). I won't have to live like this. For a split second, I even think that when I do it, I will remember my real name.

"Marinette!"

I keep my eyes fixed on the setting sun as I carefully sit myself on the bridge's railing. All I have to do is swing my legs over – nice and easy, that's it…

"Marinette!"

I want to be free. I just – I just want to be free.

Adrien Agreste would never know what it was that made him ask his bodyguard to pull over when he saw his classmate that never spoke leaning against the side of the bridge, her hair lit up in the light of the dying sun. He would never know what it was that prompted him to get out of the car, to see if she was alright.

All he would remember of that moment was watching her slip her legs over the railing and then-

"Marinette!"

His heart thundered against his chest as he broke into a run and tried to grab the girl with both arms in the instant she pitched forward. She almost slipped through his fingers – but he grabbed tight and managed to secure his grip on her arm.

"Marinette, you have to help me," he cried out, struggling to pull her up. If only he were Chat Noir – then he would have the strength to pull her up but he couldn't even transform.

Her bluebell eyes glanced up at him, abject fear evident in her features.

"Marinette, please," he begged – honestly, he wasn't even one hundred percent sure that was her name but that didn't matter right now-

She stared at him, panic slowly dawning over her features as she took in (his green, green eyes) the situation, as she seemed to come aware of how painful dangling from one arm must be – because her other hand came up and clasped his forearm and then-

And then Adrien could have cried in relief because his bodyguard was there, pulling her up with him. She let go of him as soon as she was back over the railing, collapsing to the ground, her chest heaving as she burst into tears. He waved off his bodyguard's concern – he wasn't the one that needed it right now.

"Marinette," he tried, and seeing her flinch cringed because that must have been the wrong name after all. "Are you okay?"

The words seemed hollow in the face of what had just occurred (honestly he didn't even know what had just happened, or perhaps just couldn't accept it), but they were all he had.

His hand comes down on my shoulder so gently I want to be sick.

My arm hurts. I'd forgotten that there was pain in this dream that – that it had to be real because my arm, Marinette's arm, it hurts, it hurts so badly I'm afraid that I've dislocated it.

But this isn't the time for that – this is the time for lying, for covering myself.

So I do, badly.

"I was trying to take a picture." I say, as though I'd had my phone out and my intentions hadn't been clear. "Thank you so much."

The words are hollow. I wish he'd have just let me fall. I'm shocked there isn't a crowd forming – all the cars are just going on their merry way, thankfully. Yes, I'm grateful for that at least. Guilt churns in my stomach but I push it back.

He can't know. He doesn't know.

He hands me my bag and I can't stop the sobbing that starts bubbling up in my chest, nearly hysteric. Tikki. How could I do this to Tikki. How irresponsible of me – to have tried to leap off the bridge with the earrings on I was an idiot, how thoughtless and stupid-

"What's your name?" Adrien asks kindly, and that just makes me sob harder because I don't know, I still don't know, I don't have one.

"Mari-" I try but I can't get the whole word out. I just can't. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, hey," he says gently, trying to calm me down. It's kind of him to try, but it's not happening. I can't stop crying.

Adrien's bodyguard looks anxiously at his watch, clearing his throat to signal Adrien that they had taken long enough. Adrien is saying something to me but I can't quite make it out – and then his eyes are wide and he is hauling me away from-

From a black butterfly flapping right in my direction.

Tikki what do I do? I ask, but of course there is no answer. I try to shove away the all-consuming guilt I was too familiar with and focus on positive things. I can't be akumatized. I can't. I'm – I'm Ladybug.

Adrien is telling me to fight it, his hand squeezing mine as he pulls me to his car. I nod dumbly, trying to think of happier things – but thinking of my real family, my real friends, threatens to push me over the edge of despair. So instead I think of being Ladybug, think of how imperative it is that I do not succumb because it's too late to give Adrien my earrings and tell him to run-

"It's going to be okay," he tells me, green eyes wide and sincere. "Just do your best to fight it, we'll do it together, alright?"

Together. For all that he is different, this is my Chat Noir. My only friend besides Tikki. He may not be in his true form, but-

I think of Marinette's parents and how kind and loving they were, how concerned they must be. I think of what Chat would say if I am akumatized and Ladybug never shows.

And gently, oh so tentatively, I squeeze his hand back.

"Okay," I say, and just this once, let myself believe in someone else.

The butterfly phases right through the car door Adrien has closed behind us, drifts slowly past him, and right as it reaches me, turns away and flies out the window.

The danger is past.

I laugh and then I can't stop laughing, hardly able to breathe through desperate gasps for air. Adrien keeps holding my hand until I stop, squeezing it tightly as the hysteria passes.

"Thank you," I blubber, and I mean it this time. Mean it with every ounce of my being. "Thank you so much."

I don't apologize because if I do I will spiral into guilt and shame again, but Adrien is a better person than me because he doesn't expect me to, is content with the watery smile I manage in his direction.

"I'm Adrien," he says, a gentle expression on his face. "We're classmates, in case you didn't know."

I nod, shame-faced, because of course I knew – but then I had gone out of my way to avoid everyone at school so why would he think I knew who he was?

"I'll take you home, just give directions and we'll be there in no time," he supplies cheerfully, and I nod in response because I don't know what else to say.

I wonder what Hawkmoth is thinking – I am surely the first victim to turn away an akuma. The thought of myself being a victim is nauseating, but I fight it back.

I need to control myself, I don't quite admonish myself, because my therapist had always said to be kind. But in this world I am Ladybug (I quiver at the thought of facing Tikki) and I have to be better than this. Who knew what Hawkmoth had gotten from me just from sensing the burst of guilt and shame that had called his akuma towards me.

More importantly – what had happened with the akuma? Had it gone back to him? Or was it a matter of time before it found someone else to make a victim of?

I don't know it then, but Hawkmoth is intrigued by me and adds me to his list of people to keep an eye on. Adrien's 'friend' from school. Ironically, if it wasn't for this exact moment in time, we would never one day defeat him.

Adrien drops me off at the bakery and when I walk in with my tear-stained face, clutching my arm close, awkwardly, Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng rush to my side, pulling me into a crushing embrace as they ask me what happened, what's wrong, as Marinette's mother slips away briefly to flip the sign on the bakery to 'Closed' just in case as they walk me up the stairs.

Fresh sobs bubble up in my throat but these are tears of gratefulness as much as they are guilt because these people love their daughter and for now, at least, I am her, and –

And it was a wonder, really, to be treated like this, by parents that love you.

But they're not my parents, I think sadly, so I pull away from them.

"I'm sorry," I say, in control of myself now, and run.

I don't have the energy to play the part of Marinette and I don't have it in me to lie in the face of her parents' honest concern. They could assume what they liked.

I don't crumble again until I am safe in my room. Marinette's room. I stay composed until the trap door is secured behind me and then I – I don't lose it, don't start bawling, don't start up with any dramatics, I just…

I just sit there as tears well up in my eyes and spill over, drip drip drip onto my pants, onto my helpless hands, and just feel.

"Mari," Tikki says gently, her little head resting against my elbow.

I flinch like a struck dog – but she has no lecture for me. Instead she smiles, and hers is a watery smile and I realize suddenly that – I scared her.

"Oh Tikki, I'm so sorry," I babble, "I didn't mean to. I would-"

I can't lie and say I would never no matter how I wish I could reassure her. I don't know what to say, except…

"He's Chat, isn't he?" I manage blankly though I know full well.

Tikki's face flickers through a myriad of different emotions.

"It's okay, Tikki," I tell her tiredly. "I already knew. I just – I didn't believe it, I guess."

Being Ladybug is all I have in this life. Even still…

"If you tell me how to find Master Fu, I can take you back to him," I tell her, the words wooden and empty. "I don't deserve you. I… I was almost akumatized today. I'm not a good choice."

I don't hope that she'll tell me that no, I don't have to give her back, that I can stay as Ladybug, but she seems genuinely distressed at my words so I carefully scoot her onto my palm so that I can cradle her to my chest.

"It's okay, Tikki," I murmur gently. "I get it, I do. Just – can I take you back tomorrow? I can't-"

I couldn't face Marinette's parents like this.

"You don't have to give up your miraculous," Tikki says quietly, so quietly that I don't realize what she's said until well after the words are hanging in the air with such heavy, imperative weight.

"What?"

Tikki's zooms up towards my face so that we are looking at each other square in the eye.

"You were chosen, Mari," she says, watching me carefully. "And you have been a great Ladybug so far. No one has been permanently hurt and today you resisted akumatization when you were at your lowest!"

I swallow hard, my eyes brimming with fresh tears.

"Tikki…"

She hugs me for all her little body is worth.

"You can't help that you already knew Chat Noir's true identity," she tells me, voice ripe with understanding. "We'll have to tell Master Fu eventually, but right now it's more important that you keep doing your job. Hawkmoth is just getting started. We have to protect the people of Paris."

I look at her sincere, shining eyes and decide that now is the time for the truth – the whole truth, with nothing left out.

"Tikki, I know who Hawkmoth is," I tell her gravely. "I just don't know how to go after him yet because… he's Chat Noir's father."

A horrified gasp escapes her.

"I know," I agree tiredly. "I just… Chat needs time. This is all so new – and I can't do this without him. Plus Hawkmoth has additional advantages like a book detailing all the miraculous powers. He can't read it because it's written in code that only Master Fu can read, at least. He also has the peacock miraculous, though no one is using it yet because it's broken."

"Marinette?" Sabine Dupain-Cheng called from the trap door, prompting Tikki to hide no matter that she must have been bursting with questions. "Can I come up?"

"Yes," I called out, internally panicking. "Come up."

It wasn't just Marinette's mom, it was her dad too, looking unusually grave as he followed his wife up into the room.

"Marinette, sweetheart," Sabine began gently, "we'd like to talk to you."

I was ready to have an anxiety attack.

"Are you being bullied at school?" Tom blurted out, obviously unable to help himself. Sabine looked chagrined at his straightforward question but it must have been one she was planning on asking because her eyes lingered on me with burning intensity.

"I-" I didn't know what to say. I had never mattered enough at school to be bullied. Most of my issues stemmed from chemical imbalances and child abuse at home. Instead…

I swallowed.

"Mom," I said, trying not to cringe. "Dad. I'm not being bullied. I'm just… struggling. I… I don't know how to be happy anymore. I feel like there's no point to anything, like I could just… close my eyes and go to sleep."

Sabine looks horrified.

"I feel like I don't belong anywhere I go. I feel so alone." I hesitate because I don't know what the state of the Dupain-Cheng family finances are, but if I'm going to make it in this world… "I would like to go to therapy, if that's possible. Especially since…"

In for a penny, in for a pound, I think, clenching my trembling hands into fists.

"Today one of those butterflies that have been on the news came after me. A classmate talked me through it an the butterfly flew away, but… I don't want to be like those poor people on tv. I'm having a hard time right now and… I need help."

Sabine's eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

"Oh Marinette, of course you can go to therapy," she said, unable to disguise the burning curiosity in her tone. "We just want you to be well."

My eyes water.

"I'll make some calls for you today, okay sweetheart?" Tom asks, and I can't help it – I fling myself at him, at Sabine, (at mom and dad).

My own parents had laughed in my face when I asked for therapy. Not long later, they were forcing me to attend. But I would never forget begging them for help and getting it flung back in my face because I wasn't contributing to the household like to be worth that kind of expense.

Tom and Sabine take the day off of work to go through therapists on google with me, calling various offices to see who specializes in what, going over profiles (with Tom trying to make it like a game, trying to lighten the mood in the only way he knew how) until we find someone who I hope will fit. I make macarons with them; they are surprised when I tell them raspberry is my favorite.

Marinette never had a favorite, I supposed. Or she did, it was something different, and they just didn't mention it.

By the time I get back upstairs I am drained and exhausted, but hopeful.

I tell Tikki all about the steps we (it was strange to be a part of a we again) were going to take to shoring up my mental health and she pointedly doesn't mention all the information I dumped on her earlier.

"I'll get better," I tell her – and I believe myself. Marinette Dupain-Cheng may have inherited my insecurities and depression, but she has a healthy brain unaffected by mood disorders. I may not even need medication to get back on my feet in this world – and I'll do my best to take advantage of that. "I'll be worthy of being Ladybug. You'll see."

I drifted off to sleep in my clothes under Tikki's gentle, watchful eye…

"Oh, Mari," Tikki says, mindful that the sleeping girl didn't flinch or cringe at the nickname she had inadvertently given Adrien. "You already are."

I wake up the next morning feeling a little lighter than I had the day before, despite the runaway akuma being a very real threat to Paris' tentative peace. There will be an akumatization today, I'm sure of it, but I trust, I know, that Chat Noir and I will handle it.

So I get ready feeling hopeful, greet my mom and dad as sweetly as possible given my enduring discomfort around them, despite all their help, and head off to school.

I get the shock of my life when, instead of Sabrina in the seat next to mine, it's…

"Good morning, Mari!" Adrien greets me, smiling wide.

What?

To be continued in Orageux