After the Discovery, things didn't change as much as everyone thought they might. "Everyone" being just Marinette, of course.
She got a lecture from Lois about worrying her, and then a joke from the older woman about no longer having another non-hero in the house to team up with.
"Wait, Dad," Jon spoke up after that comment from his mom, bobbing up and down on his heels. Both him and Clark had long since changed out of their costumes, which didn't take long considering both of them having super speed. "Does this mean Mari can meet Damian? And is she going to join a hero team—"
"I already have a team, Jon," Marinette interrupted, soft but firm at the same time. Two months was more than long enough to know that Jon could talk forever if he was allowed to. "Chat Noir, Viperion, Bunnyx, and Ryuuko are all Miraculous users like me," she had already sat down and explained the bare basics of her abilities and the Paris situation. Lois had known better than to scold her, no matter how gentle the scolding was, before Marinette had a chance to say anything.
Clark blinked, looking between both of his kids. And yes, Marinette was well and truly one of his kids already. He couldn't hold back a soft chuckle. "She can meet Damian when school starts back up again, Jon. We don't want to rush anything," he started out by telling his son. Marinette was still very jittery. Two months was nowhere near enough time to recover from the trauma of watching your parents die, after all.
(In fact, Clark thought, for some people not even a lifetime was long enough. Batman briefly came to mind as an example.)
The girl still had nightmares almost daily, and panic attacks that resulted in brief spans of mutism at least once a week. Those, at least, had severely decreased in frequency, but it was clear that she was far from ready to meet very many new people. Especially people like Damian Wayne, who was hard enough for someone in perfect mental health to handle even on a good day.
"And Marinette," Clark switched over to his pseudo-daughter. "If you have that many teammates, surely they would understand that you need a break," when Marinette didn't meet his eyes, Clark felt dread build up in his stomach. "Marinette, they know about your parents, right?"
The girl fidgeted. Clark closed his eyes.
"Nobody knows my identity," She admitted after a tense silence. "I know everyone else's, even though I only found out Chat's by accident. But they don't know mine, and I can't ask them to give me time off anyway."
"Why not, honey?" Lois asked as gently as she could, picking up on the beginning signs of Marinette closing herself off. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything any of them could do to stop it. Marinette refused to meet any of their eyes, and even before she spoke her new family knew that they wouldn't get anything else meaningful out of her about the Paris situation, at least for the day.
"They need me."
Clark and Jon traded a look. That statement felt a bit too familiar for them. It was something they heard from a lot of heroes who tried to justify overworking themselves. It was something both of them had said before.
But they let the topic rest for the night. Pushing Marinette wouldn't do any good for anybody.
—*—*—*—*—*
A week passed. Lois and Clark were sitting on the couch watching TV when Lois caught her husband's eyes darting up to the ceiling. Sighing, she turned the volume down a few notches.
"Did she leave for Paris again?" She asked even though she already knew the answer. Clark nodded grimly.
"Yesterday she didn't get back in until almost four in the morning," he admitted, running a hand over his face. "And now, it's already eleven and she's just now heading out. I know she doesn't want me or Jon going to Paris because of Hawkmoth's magic, but..." he trailed off with his mouth
set in a deep frown. Lois could only sigh and lean against his arm comfortingly. "I know," she breathed quietly.
"She can't keep working herself to the bone like this, Lois. Sometimes she'll head right over to Paris after a nightmare, like she needs to remind herself of something, but she always comes back in less than an hour in that case. But this— when she leaves to fight HawkMoth or patrol Paris before ever going to sleep in the first place— it's like she's trying to avoid the nightmares by overworking herself too much to even dream."
"I know," Lois rubbed a hand on Clark's back in gentle circles.
"It reminds me of Batman sometimes," Clark said, his voice filled with uncharacteristic defeat. "Marinette doesn't get violent like Bruce, but... never sleeping, throwing herself into heroism, she even refers to Ladybug as if they are different people, Lois. I can't always help Bruce since he's a grown adult and more than capable of shutting me out when he wants to, but Marinette is our kid now. I'm just not sure how to help her."
Lois took a deep breath. "Well, she's not Bruce so you can't just bait her into a spar to sort out her feelings," she mused with faint humor. "But how about we start with sending Jon to Paris the next time you guys hear her leave? The sooner we figure out exactly what the situation and her relationship with her team is like, then maybe the sooner we can find some answers."
Clark nodded, and looked back up to the ceiling. "I know you heard that, Jon. Don't get in the way, and come back if Marinette finds you and tells you to. We don't want her to think we don't trust her."
A beat passed, and Clark rolled his eyes fondly.
"Don't forget to go to bed as soon as she gets back, Jon. I don't want to deal with two overly exhausted children."
A thump.
"I'm sixteen!" Jon yelled back, clearly for Lois's benefit as his mom let out a short burst of laughter.
—*—*—*—*—* "Ladybug!"
"Look, it's Ladybug!" "Woo! Go ladybug!" "Could you beat this guy extra fast, Ladybug? I'm late for a meeting!"
People in the streets were shouting in French happily, pointing up at their resident spotted heroine. Some people groused at her in mild or fond annoyance, asking her to beat the Akuma-of-the-day a bit faster for various reasons or jokingly calling her a slow poke. Most people just got pictures or videos on their phones of her as best as they could, watching her swing by in awe and admiration.
It was familiar. Too, too familiar, and Jon made sure to get it all on camera. His parents would want to see this. The pair of contacts he was wearing, a gift from Red Robin, translated everything that was being said for him into helpful little English subtitles.
And there was his sister. Marinette had been tough to pin down, and this was Jon's third time trying to follow her in Paris. The first time, the day after that late night discussion between his parents, ended in less than five minutes. Marinette caught him and sent him home firmly, which was followed by a heart-to-heart with all four of them when she got home.
She still refused to tell them anything more than the basics about Paris's situation. For some reason, she seemed extremely reluctant to talk about it. She had no problem comparing experiences and hero jokes with him and his dad, but the moment they tried to talk about Paris-specifics, Marinette clammed up.
It was the second of Jon's attempts to follow Marinette, just a week after the first, that brought up a possible reason. Because Jon had watched a civilian that he hadn't been able to get to in time get pinned under a thrown car and killed—only for Ladybug's powers to reverse all the damage and bring the man back to life.
Jon had raced back home right after that, not even giving Marinette the chance to see him. After relaying what had happened to his parents, they all agreed to one last tail. The pieces were already falling together, and none of them liked the picture they were painting. They wanted to confront Marinette as soon as possible. So here he was, another week later.
Jon kept recording throughout the fight, watching as Marinette clearly led her team. There was no mistaking that all her teammates respected her and treated her word as law. Even Chat Noir, who was Ladybug's deputy, always referred to Ladybug's opinion before issuing any orders. Civilians didn't always flee the scene, taking their time as they tried to record the fight. And when the Akuma was beaten and only Ladybug made a move to catch the corrupted butterfly, the final pieces clicked into place. Jon managed to stay still long enough to catch the crowd of fans running forward, trying to mob Ladybug with pleas for autographs or statements or interviews, before he left. Ladybug's team had acted as a buffer between her and the crowd anyway, so Jon was able to leave with a clear conscience.
When he walked into his house, already changed back into normal clothes, he waved his phone with a serious look on his face as both his parents waited anxiously.
"Yeah. This is pretty bad," Jon warned them as he hooked his phone up to his laptop, and played the footage for them.
—*—*—*—*—*
When Marinette got home, it was to a clear intervention. Nervously detransforming, she looked to Tikki and back to her new family. The Kwami, who had previously just been explained away as the source of her powers, gently nudged the girl forward. She knew her holder needed this.
Clark and Lois gently explained why they asked Jon to follow her, explaining that they were all concerned about how badly she was overworking herself.
"You're getting only three hours of sleep, and that's on the days that you wake up with nightmares," Clark's
voice was quiet, begging her to listen. "Every other day, you teleport to what I can only hope is Paris every time, and you don't come back for hours. Even if you spend that whole time fighting Akumas, you still only get an hour's worth of sleep maximum when you get back. Sometimes you don't even sleep at all until you collapse of exhaustion," he leaned forward over the table, worry etched in every line on his face. "Marinette, we're worried. We wanted Jon to see what the situation in Paris was like, because we thought that maybe it would explain why you seem to care about it more than your health. We didn't know if it was just you needing to keep busy, or something else."
"And you're gone during the day too," Lois added. "And we get that. HawkMoth attacks whenever he feels like, and we all understand if you have to disappear at odd times to fight his Akumas. But this is more than that, isn't it?"
Marinette's hands were clenched into fists, and tears were starting to bubble up in her eyes, but she didn't say anything. Jon slowly approached her, waiting for her small nod before laying one of his larger hands over her fists and gently prying them open before she hurt herself. He kept his hands there, holding hers for both of their comfort.
"I took a video, today," he admitted gently. "Dad already erased it from the laptop and my phone, don't worry. But they— we all— needed to see it. The way Paris treats you, Marinette—"
"It's like how Metropolis used to treat Superman. How they sometimes still do," Lois interrupted, trying to get Marinette to meet her eyes. "We all thought that Superman showing up was the end of our problems. That as soon as he showed up, the villain or criminal or whatever that was causing us problems was done for. That he could save everyone," Lois's eyes grew melancholy. "But we had to learn the hard way that he's not invincible, no matter how much he might seem like he is. We had to learn the hard way that nobody, no matter how strong or how many powers they have, can save everyone. The kind of trust we had in him before is toxic, Marinette. It's toxic to us, because we stop being as careful as we should be if we think he's always going to catch us. And it's toxic to him, too."
"How?" Marinette asked, her voice impossibly tiny and her eyes glittering with unshed tears as she darted her eyes between them. "They need someone to believe in. They— I make them feel safe. I — isn't that good?"
"You feel like it's your job to be there no matter what, right?" Clark asked, meeting her gaze with a warm, but firm one of his own. "That you have to do whatever it takes to win every battle, no matter what it costs you, because they believe you will. You start feeling like everyone you don't save is your fault. And that's not okay," he stood up and Jon slowly backed away, allowing their father to kneel by Marinette and clasp one of her shoulders. "It always hurts. You might never forget the faces of the people you can't save, but it isn't your fault. You told me and Jon that you don't blame us for what happened to your parents, that it's stupid to blame the hero for something that wouldn't have happened if the villain didn't attack in the first place," his grip tightened slightly, trying to offer comfort when Marinette tended at the mention of her parents. "If you don't blame us, even though we were the ones in costume and fighting that day, then you need to stop blaming yourself too."
The tears finally overflowed, salty water trickling down Marinette's cheeks and sloppy sobs ripping themselves from her throat even as she threw herself into Clark's chest. He hugged her tightly, letting her cry.
"B-b-But," Marinette stuttered in between hiccuping sobs. "My powers reverse damage, m-my powers bring people back," she sniffed, burying her face deeper into Clark's chest. "I wanted t-to
help. I-I was. S-s-So close to tr-transforming and fighting with y-you, but I didn't. I d-didn't, so I c- couldn't bring them b-back. I should have been tr-transformed, th-that way they would be—"
"Shh," Clark whispered gently, rocking her in his arms. "It's not your fault. Metropolis wasn't your city. You were protecting your identity, and that was the right choice."
"But—!"
"No, Marinette," Clark interrupted, holding her just a little tighter as she continued to tremble and sob. "If you had transformed, someone would have figured it out. A French class comes to Metropolis, and one of their students mysteriously disappears at the same time that a French hero shows up in America for the first time? Maybe you could have brought them back, but none of you would have been safe. Our villains, the villains of Metropolis, of the League, they would have suddenly known about you and might have researched Paris. Maybe HawkMoth would have
gained a new ally, or maybe a villain would attack you just because you're a new hero to target," Clark sighed, rubbing his hand gently over Marinette's back as her sobs quieted into a few hiccups and sniffles. She was listening. That was a good sign. "So yes, maybe you would have been able to save them that once, but you could also have opened up a new can of worms that you might not have been able to handle. Things could have gotten worse, and Jon and I wouldn't have even known to help you. You would have continued to shoulder everything on your own, but you don't have to. You did your best, and your parent's deaths aren't your fault. And you have Jon and I now, and your team even if they don't know who you are. You can rely on us a little. If you keep going on like this, though, you're going to kill yourself Marinette," this time his grip tightened for a whole different reason and Clark buried his face in Marinette's loose hair. Even after only almost three months, the thought of losing her made him breathless. She was his daughter, even if not by blood, and he couldn't stand the thought of her hurting herself like this.
"Please, Mari," That was Jon, who had knelt down by their side and joined the hug. "Let us help you. I promise we're not incompetent heroes."
Marinette's laugh was watery, and hysteric. She accepted a tissue from Lois, who was suddenly sitting down only a foot away from the three's group hug. After a good nose-blow, Marinette took a deep breath.
"Maybe now's a good time to give them a proper explanation, Marinette," Tikki said as she floated down to land on her wielder's head, giving her the best hug she could. Marinette gave another wet chuckle.
"Yeah, I agree," she took a deep breath. "But it's a long story."
"Not a problem," Lois assured the girl as she forced herself up and stretched her arms out. "I'll get the extra pillows and blankets. We can relax on the floor and have story time, and then binge watch movies and have a sleepover in the living room. Clark, could you be a dear and move the couch out of the way?"
—*—*—*—*—*
"You have a rule against killing, dear," Lois whispered groggily from where she was laying against Clark's side. Marinette was sprawled in between him and Jon, safely in their cuddle-cocoon. Both of their kids were deep asleep. Clark grunted.
"Yeah, but he put so much responsibility on kids, Lo. Kids," he whispered back, turning his head to try and lessen the chance of waking up Jon. "And he didn't offer them any support for almost a year, made them figure out the whole hero thing and their powers on their own," the clearing of a tiny throat made Clark stifle a snort. "With their Kwami," he whispered, quietly appeasing the eavesdropping Tikki who was laying on Marinette's chest pretending to sleep. "But a god isn't exactly a replacement for an actual hero mentor, you know," he shot at her, making the tiny goddess shrug in acquiescence. "And making her Guardian— he basically threw all his responsibilities onto kids, and ran away. And now Marinette has to heal from all the unrealistic expectations she gave herself. So forgive me if I'm entertaining a few more violent daydreams than usual."
Lois patted his arm and kissed his cheek. "I'm sure they will be just as violent and gratifying to imagine in the morning. Go to sleep, Smallville."
—*—*—*—*—*
It was another two and a half weeks before Marinette met Damian Wayne for the first time. She looked from the fellow teenager in a perfectly-pressed uniform and then over to her brother with a raised eyebrow.
"Does he fly in on a helicopter every day?" She asked him incredulously, making Jon grin and nod. She looked back over at Damian, who was clearly annoyed at her for speaking about him when he was right there. "I will never understand rich people."
Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes. "And I will never understand simpletons. Kent, who is your friend?" He practically spat the last word, making the inner bully-detector in Marinette go off. Her interactions with Chloe and Lila kicked in, and sparked her old habits. Marinette flashed a bright smile, stepping in front of Jon before he could say a word and holding out her hand to Damian.
Clark, who was talking to Bruce nearby, out his hand over his mouth to hide a snort. Bruce raised his eyebrows, paying close attention to the interaction now.
"Hi! I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Clark and Lois took me in a few months ago, and they said I'm already family. That means that I'm Jon's sister now, which means that it's my job to keep him away from bad influences. My hobbies include annoying bullies and not being a welcome mat. How are you?"
Damian blinked once. Twice, and then took her hand and shook it firmly even as a smirk spread itself over his lips.
"Damian Wayne," he replied easily. "And I apologize for assuming you were a simpleton. I think we can tolerate each other just fine."
As Marinette and Damian kept trading sarcastic quips with one another that got steadily less passive-aggressive as time went on (with Jon watching in dismay as somehow Marinette seemed to get along? With Damian? And they were scheming? This couldn't end well.), Clark and Bruce watched the kids walk into their school building.
A moment of silence stretched, before Bruce finally caved and asked; "Took her in?"
Clark grinned slightly, knowing Bruce never would have been able to resist sating his curiosity over the new girl in his care.
"Lois and I practically adopted her. Technically her paternal grandmother has custody and only gave her to us to take care of while she recovers from her grief in a different country, but that's only because trying to adopt her without being French citizens would have been almost impossible."
"Grief?" Bruce's eyebrows pulled down, and Clark's smile grew somber.
"Remember the attack in late May, back in Metropolis? The one that actually had the first fatalities in months?" Bruce's face went slack in realization, followed closely by his eyes snapping to the school's doors. Clark nodded. "Looks like your penchant for adopting black-haired, blue-eyed orphans is contagious. She was scraping the skin off her hands and giving herself burns trying to dig them out of the rubble. When Jon and I realized that they were both of her parents, I had Lois look into her to make sure she had family to take care of her," Clark sighed and ran a hand through
his hair. "The options were a grandmother who never stops traveling or a great uncle she barely knows who only speaks Mandarin when she doesn't. So we pulled a few strings, and now she's a Kent in all but name."
"I hope Damian can avoid saying the wrong thing for at least a day before I talk to him later," Bruce said with a sigh as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "At least she seems to have won his respect pretty quickly."
Clark laughed. "Oh yeah, she tends to do that. No offense or anything Bruce, but I think it's a good thing we were the ones that adopted her before you got the chance," he turned and smiled at his old friend. "You wouldn't be able to handle Marinette. She's closer to a Super than a Bat."