Chapter Two. Should I change my name (or should I hide your name?)
Should I catch hold of this dark night?
Should I grab the cold moon?
The difference between light in the day and in the night,
Should I change it?
It was never supposed to take this long.
She'd been so laughably bad during that first akuma battle, he'd been absolutely certain the stupid little insect would be too overwhelmed and give up the jewelry.
They'd expected victory in days, weeks, maybe even months. Not years.
It was never supposed to be years.
And so his hatred grows, the anger burning in him, fuelling him, making him fight harder, faster with every day that passes without victory. Without his mother.
Father couldn't care less about his life outside of akuma battles and photo shoots so instead Adrien finds himself talking to mother. Visiting her in her chamber, sitting with her, telling her about his day, about what he is doing with father to bring her back, and soon it becomes tradition.
He'll go over failed akuma's and in the same conversation tell her about the friends he's made at school. She'd always fought for him to be allowed to go, and now she's missing it. Missing everything. So instead, Adrien speaks, tells her everything, hoping that somehow, she can hear him.
But as much as he complains to her about Ladybug, he gushes about another just as much.
(Some things are the same in every world. Chewing gum stuck to a seat and righteous anger aimed at the wrong person; apologies in the rain and two hearts beating faster, cheeks flushing, somehow knowing this is the start of something beautiful.)
She's the first person he tells about their date, the one he gushes to about their first kiss, about how amazing his girlfriend is; rages to her when photographers get a photo of them on a date and his fans bombard her on social media, prompting father to finally meet her, to dispense his approval upon his girlfriend. As if that matters.
Adrien imagines mother clapping her hands, laughing in delight at every new milestone in his relationship before pinching his cheeks and telling him don't grow up too fast now—you're still my little boy!
But that's all he can do. Imagine. Because until they get Ladybugs miraculous, mother continues to lie there, still and unmoving. She's missing so much. He cries as well, when he tells her about Marinette's parents, about what a lovely family they are, about how much it made him want his family back. How much he wants Marinette to be able to meet his mother.
It makes him want to rage, fight, and destroy Ladybug because she is the only thing standing in the way of what he wants. Adrien hates Ladybug. Loathes her. Despises her.
Because she just won't give up.
"Adrien" Marinette gasps, clutching at his shoulders. "Adrien we can't keep doing this."
"You're right." Adrien hums in agreement, his mouth hot on her throat as he trails kisses down to her collarbone, before bringing his head back up to swallow her moan with his lips. "We should definitely stop."
They need to. Need to learn to keep their hands off each other, to stop meeting in secret like this. Marinette's pretty sure Alya suspects they're fooling around again, but she doesn't pass judgement at least. She still thinks they'll get back together after all. She'd only slightly bent the truth, telling her best friend that Adrien had thought her being Ladybug was too dangerous, that he'd wanted her to give it up, and they'd broken up over the issue.
If only it were that simple.
But it's hard to remember exactly why they need to stay away from each other when Adrien does that thing she likes—with his tongue—that has her knees weakening, his arm around her waist the only thing keeping her upright.
"God, Marinette," Adrien murmurs against her lips, pulling back to gaze into her eyes. "You scared me today."
And just like that, the spell is broken.
"Yeah. Well," she shrugs "it's part of the job. It's not like I have a partner."
Marinette regrets the words immediately when Adrien rears back as though she's slapped him. "Adrien I didn't mean—"
"Yes you did," he turns away from her, his shoulders tense as he yanks his shirt back on. "You know I can't be that for you."
You want to. She almost says. I saw it in your eyes today, when that akuma cut through my shoulder. It was the most excruciating pain she'd ever felt, and Marinette had been deeply glad that the red of her suit hid how much blood was pouring out of the wound. Adrien had almost screamed her name when it happened, his green eyes blown wide with terror even as he forced himself to keep his distance.
He'd practically crashed through her skylight later that evening, gathering her in his arms and crushing her to his chest in relief.
She doesn't say any of this out loud though. Instead, she grabs his wrist when Adrien is halfway through her window, and says "stay."
Adrien looks conflicted, his eyes flickering from her hand on his wrist to her face until he eventually comes to a decision, sitting back down beside her. They don't really talk for the rest of the evening, alternating between making out and cuddling as they watch a movie until Adrien nods off, his head in her lap.
She's hardly surprised. The dark circles under his eyes have been getting more pronounced recently and he'd always slept better when they were together. Carding her fingers through his hair, Marinette sighs.
He is her enemy. She should hate him. Hate him for what he does, what he stands for. He's supposed to be her partner, not the enemies. They should be fighting together, not each other. But looking at him, his face relaxed in slumber, nuzzling his head into her hand, all she sees is Adrien.
Tikki will be disappointed, in the morning, that she didn't put an end to things like she said she would, and Marinette will take the scolding quietly, but Adrien has always been her weakness, and right now, they are not their alter egos.
Right now, he is Adrien. She is Marinette. In the morning light they will become Ladybug and Ravageur Noir, but for now, they are just a boy, and just a girl.
"Do you think you could ever hate me?" Marinette asks Adrien one day and he looks at her like she's grown another head.
They were supposed to be studying in the park, and to their credit, there are flashcards spread out all around them, but they'd only lasted fifteen minutes before Adrien decided he much preferred to lie with his head in her lap allowing her to gently run her fingers through his hair.
At her words his eyes snap open and he sits up so fast she has to lean back a little but he immediately pulls her close again. "Of course not! How could I ever hate the most perfect girl in all of Paris—no, France?"
In response, she just shrugs and laughs a little, not willing to give him a reason. How can she tell him her suspicions? That she thinks he might be her enemy? More and more lately, she's been seeing signs that point to him, but she doesn't want to believe it. Doesn't want to believe that the boy who loves her, hates her enough to want to turn her to dust if it would serve his purpose.
Instead, she allows him to cup her face in his hands and kiss her, slow and deep. "You are extraordinary, Marinette. There is not a single thing you could ever do that would make me hate you."
Sinking into his embrace, Marinette ignores the worry in her stomach, and lets herself be reassured, grinning and pulling him forward by the collar to peck his lips. "Good answer."
Father may not pay attention to what Adrien does in his personal life, but he's not entirely unobservant.
Adrien supposes this was inevitable, after all of father's questioning, the sudden interest in his love life and why he and Marinette had broken up. Asking why, he hasn't been fighting up to his usual standard—hasn't been for months now. He's not wrong. He can hardly bring himself to strike a blow anymore, acutely aware of who he is fighting. Even if her miraculous cure fixes it all, he remembers every punch, every bruise he's given her in battle, and it still amazes him when he sees no evidence on it, see's that Marinette's skin is unmarred.
Of course father would notice. And there was only so long he would buy the excuse that the breakup was what affected him. Now, father is testing his theory.
It's Adrien's fault.
If only he hadn't dismissed that girl! But she'd practically glued herself to his arm, giggling shrilly in his ear and batting her eyelashes at him for the third time this week. He'd had to prise her fingers off him before joining his friends and admittedly, he could have been nicer about it, but apparently what set her off was seeing his fingers brush Marinette's as he passed by her on the way to talk to Nino.
And now, Marinette is being held over the Eiffel tower, dangled over the edge as the akuma demands that he—Adrien—be brought to her to save Marinette.
"C'mon, c'mon, just transform already!" he mutters from his place on a nearby roof. Marinette is motionless, keeping as still as she can in case the grip with which she's being held loosens. The akuma is ranting and raving, gesticulating wildly with her free hand, hardly paying attention to her captive. "Transform, Marinette!" He urges her but she does nothing, stubborn to the last.
In that moment, Adrien hates father. Hates him more than he's ever hated anyone in his life. How can he put an innocent civilian in such danger? Knowing what she means to him? Even if it is to try and discover Ladybug's identity? How does he justify it to himself, because mother surely would be horrified by what he's doing.
And Marinette! He wants to curse her, grab hold of her and shake her for being so stupid. So stupidly noble, refusing to save herself just to make sure nothing happens to the miraculous. This time, there is no Alya to give the earrings to, to defeat the akuma.
There is only Adrien.
"I've waited long enough!" the akuma declares, waving a hand imperiously, and the crowd gathered around the tower screams as she drops Marinette. And then she is falling, falling, falling, and she's still not transforming, just allowing herself to fall and before Adrien realises what he's doing, he's catching her.
Later, news reports will talk about a black blur, snatching Marinette from the sky, whisking her away and saving the girl's life. But in the moment, Adrien doesn't think of consequences, just leaps across the rooftops, holding her tight against him, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest. She's safe, she's safe, she's safe.
Setting her down on a roof far away, Adrien frantically looks her over for injuries, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to soothe her. Marinette is shaking like a leaf, her skin deathly pale, but she's alive, and that's all that matters. Pulling her into his embrace, Adrien exhales shakily when Marinette clutches at him, burying her face into his shoulder as he rocks them back and forth.
Eventually, Marinette disentangles herself from him, wiping the tears from her cheeks, she coughs a little before speaking. "The akuma…"
"No," he shakes his head. "You are not fighting today." Before she can protest, Adrien continues "Hawkmoth was testing you, to see if you were Ladybug. If you show up now…"
"He'll know it's me" she finishes his sentence for him. Her shoulders slump. "What do we do?"
This time, Adrien doesn't protest her use of the word we. It's taken him a long time—far too long—to realise: they are partners. And they always will be.
Hesitantly, he cups her face with his hand, a thrill going through him when Marinette doesn't immediately pull away. She hasn't let his hands touch her face in so long, fearing that he will take her miraculous, but now...she's looking at him with so much trust in her eyes, like she used to, before; and Adrien feels the piece of his heart that was displaced for all those months settle back into place, filling his chest with warmth.
He knows what he has to do.
That night, Adrien visits his mother for the last time.
"I'm sorry, mother." Adrien's voice echoes in the large room. In her chamber, mother slumbers on. Pressing a hand to the cool glass, he takes one last look at her, at her serene expression, unchanged for so many years while he has grown up beside her. "But it's time to move on." He won't stop trying to wake her, but this time, Adrien will do it the right way.
Father won't notice him leaving. He's holed up in his office, probably poring over the footage from this afternoons akuma attack, trying to figure out who Ladybug's second substitute is; the boy in red who attacked his akuma with a vengeance Ladybug herself has never shown before.
At least Marinette is off his list of suspects. Father had accepted Adrien's anger with more patience than he expected—of course, he had put his son's ex-girlfriend in mortal peril for what seemed like no reason at all. He could hardly blame his son for saving the girl from such a grisly fate, then, could he?
And really, Adrien should be thanking him for giving him the wake up call he so desperately needed.
Marinette is waiting for him on her balcony, cocooned in blankets a giant mug of hot chocolate clasped in her hands. He lands on her railing, letting his duffel bag land on her balcony with a thud, and she turns to face him, her eyes glittering, a smile playing about her lips.
"You know," Adrien tilts his head to the side, stroking his chin in thought. "I think I need to rebrand. What do you think of the name Chat Noir?"
My name is love,
Your name is love,
My name, your name,
My name is love