He sat atop a roof two buildings down from his apartment complex as Chat Noir. He'd just finished up a patrol at night, right in time to see Marinette relaxing at the bistro set on his balcony, sipping what looked like either milk or that white Gatorade she so frequently drank. She looked pensive.

He had tried to talk to her all week but everything was ridiculously awkward. She didn't seem mad at him, per se—or if she was, she was doing a great job of not showing it—but she was constantly on edge when she was near him. Neither of them wanted to be around the other because of it but at the same time, they had to pretend nothing happened in front of Erek.

He didn't know how much this affected Marinette but he couldn't stop thinking about what Plagg said about his dream being about Marinette and Marinette being more than a friend. That idea was something he couldn't accept no matter how much reflection he gave it. He would admit Marinette was dearer to him than Alya, for some reason, but he still didn't feel the same about Marinette as he did about Ladybug. He would picture Marinette and see a friend. He would picture Ladybug and see the love of his life.

Personally, he didn't think Plagg had the right to dictate when he needed to "get over" Ladybug or when he needed "closure." Seeing Marinette go out of her way to avoid him whenever Erek was gone was an eye-opener for sure, but still…all of that should've remained strictly his decision, even if being hung up over Ladybug could potentially turn out detrimental…

However, he hoped Marinette wouldn't be so uncomfortable around Chat Noir. He found himself becoming increasingly more thankful that he had an unrecognizable alter ego that Marinette was more receptive to.

He extended his baton and leapt forward, landing squarely on the balcony to pay Marinette a little visit.

"Princess," he greeted with a bow.

Marinette snapped out of her staring spell and looked at him. She flashed a quick and small smile.

"Chat," she returned. "What brings you here?"

"Just finished up patrolling the city. No crime to report, pretty quiet night. I see you've taken up Adrien's offer to live here. How are you settling in?"

All things Adrien would never be able to ask her.

"I was actually kind of, um…forced into this…'situation.'"

"What do you mean? What situation?"

"Living here…with a man…again…"

She took an angry breath and muttered, "It's like I never learn…"

"I guess I can see why living with a man you're not married to would be awkward."

"It's not just that," she sighed. "Right when I started to get close to Adrien again, I— Look, I didn't know Adrien drank that much."

"Adrien drinks?" Chat asked in fake surprise. "I've never seen that before."

"Apparently he does and he drank a lot last week," she said. "He was so upset and I felt terrible for him. He wouldn't tell me what was wrong and, trust me, I understand that better than anyone, so I didn't ask questions and tried to give him some companionship and comfort…he fell asleep…next thing I know he's grabbing me and… Eugh…"

Both of his eyebrows shot up, again in fake surprise, and he took the opportunity to ask the biggest question on his mind.

"Did he force himself on you?!"

He knew he didn't force himself in that way but to Marinette, it could've come across as something a little more…aggressive. And he had to know how she perceived that kiss—was it an attack? A mistake? A test? Was he…like Pascal now?

"Sort of, I guess?" she replied unsurely. "He didn't do anything…uh…you know…"

"Oh, thank goodness…"

"It was just a kiss and it didn't go any further than that but that is not the message I was trying to send him and I hated it."

She had every right to hate that kiss but…

Ouch.

"I'm so sorry that happened."

That sentence wasn't fake at all, he couldn't begin to describe how awful he felt about doing that. It didn't matter to him whether he was conscious or not, the only thing that mattered was that he hurt Marinette on a level he didn't know he was capable of reaching.

"I don't think he meant to do it," she said. "I'm still holding him accountable, pretty sure the alcohol had a lot to do with that. But. He regrets it."

"Do you forgive him?"

He crossed his fingers behind his back and prayed to anyone listening that she would overlook this one thing.

"I don't know… I don't hate him for it… But I've been in similar situations in the past and if it didn't turn out well then, why would it now?"

"What…situations…h-have you—"

"Have I been in?" she finished. "Don't worry about it."

"Marinette, what am I to you?"

"A close friend, naturally. I'm always excited to see you. Maybe a best friend, if I may go so far."

He chuckled. "You may. I see you the same way…so why can't I worry about you? I want to look out for you but you're not making this easy."

She frowned and looked away, not for dramatic effect but because she really couldn't bear to look at him in the moment.

"I'm perfectly capable of looking out for myself."

He opened his mouth but she immediately added, "And a child. On my own."

"I won't argue that you're strong—probably the strongest woman I've ever met—but you were in the hospital for months. You were clinically dead several times. There were times I honestly thought you were trying to die for good… I thought maybe you wanted to end the suffering and I don't even know what that suffering is. Even if it's just a shoulder to lean on, someone to talk to, or both of us being together…let me do this for you."

Because Adrien certainly wouldn't get anywhere with her anytime soon. But…from the sound of it, he had a shot at redemption with good behavior.

"Look, I could have weeks, I could have years," she said. "I wasn't trying to die, I don't want to die. I'm thankful you took me to a hospital and I'm thankful I survived. Personally, I think it made me stronger."

Always the overcomer, never the victim.

"I'm sure it did but just tell me what you need right now."

"I don't need anything."

"I want you to be happy and you're not so obviously you do need something. And if it has to do with Adrien then—"

She pressed her glass of milk to her lips and leaned back in the chair. The stubbornness right now was unrivaled and it was maddening.

"Put the milk down and talk to me," he said calmly.

"About what? The 'suffering' you mentioned?" she challenged. "What exactly do you think I'm suffering from?"

"Well…you're sick, you're in hospitals a lot, you're not going to get better…you can't breathe normally again, not after whatever—" Wait. "What did happen that day? The doctors said blood had been building for a month but then something tore and it all gushed in and you…should've died."

"Nothing much," she replied. "I told you I had something important I needed to do and I was planning on going to the hospital. Pascal dropped Erek off a little earlier than I expected, got mad, was akumatized for a second time, and well…you already know how the rest of that day went."

"But what did you do after Pascal was akumatized? He had Erek, I found you under a tree, and you didn't know about your house. It seemed kind of random…"

Marinette playfully rolled her eyes and he knew exactly what was coming next.

"Don't worry about it."

That single sentence was going to make him to lose his mind one day…

"Look," she added before he could get a word in. "The only thing I suffered was a bad kisser."

At first the conversation was slightly on the irritating side, just because he couldn't pry any information out of her that could potentially help in the long run. Something he could do for her that would leave an impact beyond basic human needs being met and, of course, beyond smacking his lips on hers. That memory was burned into both their minds.

But then he realized what she'd actually said. True, there was an amount of sarcasm in her voice, but she called him—Adrien Agreste—and by extension, Chat Noir, a bad kisser.

A bad kisser. Him! Ladybug loved his kisses. There had to be some kind of mistake here.

"He's a bad kisser?" Chat hesitantly replied.

Marinette looked at her milk and casually traced a finger around the rim of the glass.

"Awful," she answered. "I know he was out of it but even so, there's no way just alcohol could mess that up so much."

"Mess it up? Wha— Uh, how?"

"I'd…rather not get into details about it," she said. "It reminded me a lot of a guy I used to date. He was just as bad but I loved him enough to pretend to like kissing him."

"Women fake that kind of thing?"

He'd heard about women faking other aspects of…ahem, "intimacy," but kissing?

He leaned over the table as a second realization hit him.

"Even you?"

Marinette kept her head down but turned her eyes up at him with a guilty expression.

No way. He could grant her leniency with a past relationship she clearly didn't want him poking around in, but aside from that and her medical problems, he always imagined her to be an honest person. People changed over time but still…even when she was younger, she still faked things?

Did that mean all women did that? Did his past girlfrien—

DID LADYBUG DO THAT?!

He sucked in a nervous breath at that last thought.

"What was so bad about his kissing?" he asked.

Marinette gave him an odd look.

"Why do you care what was bad about it?"

He couldn't think of any legitimate excuses for himself. Chat Noir wasn't supposed to care what happened between Marinette and Adrien as long as it wasn't inappropriate.

He dumbly opened his mouth anyway, still no excuse prepared. Instead of making one up on the spot, he got to breathe a huge sigh of relief when he heard the default ringtone of a phone. His was built into his baton, which only left Marinette's.

He saw her arm move under the table and her eyes followed shortly after. A very slight look of annoyance crossed her face and the ringing suddenly stopped.

Adrien wouldn't have been able to hear her mutter that low but Chat's sharper hearing picked up, "Idiot…"

She briefly returned to the way he found her: pensive, deep in thought. And then she remembered he was here and she came back to the moment.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine," she answered.

"I can give you some privacy if you need to take that."

Marinette rolled her eyes sarcastically and said, "I don't need to take anything."

Her phone rang again and she inhaled.

"It might be important."

"Or it might not."

She must've still had her phone in her hand because the ringing stopped again.

This time he said nothing. He suspected it could've been Pascal, but it really could've been anyone. Still, she had a strange reaction to her phone ringing…assuming it wasn't Pascal.

It wasn't another minute before the phone rang again. She seemed to have already expected persistence as well, rolling her eyes as though she'd been hoping she wouldn't have to answer. And technically she didn't have to, but they both knew the ringing wouldn't cease until she did.

"Hello?" she begrudgingly said into the phone as she answered it.

At such a short distance from Marinette, he was able to make out some of what was on the other end. Although he tried to block it out for the sake of her privacy, his ears simply wouldn't allow it. He recognized the voice as Pascal's but the words were slightly slurred. Pascal mentioned something about…a baby? Or…?

"Don't call me that," Marinette said flatly.

A quick apology from the other end and Pascal seemed to beg her to stop something but didn't specify what. Marinette clearly knew.

"No."

He looked over to the side, pretending to find something else of interest. He wanted to move away so he wouldn't overhear anything but at the same time, he didn't want to tell her why he would leave, given that he'd already heard some of this.

Pascal asked the same thing, once again not clarifying what he wanted her to stop doing.

"If you didn't call me about Erek—"

Pascal interrupted her but the words moved into each other so quickly he couldn't understand what was said. Probably for the best.

"That's not about Erek," she sighed.

A question of why she wouldn't talk about anything else.

"There's nothing else to talk about."

He finally spoke up, uncomfortable with the situation just as he was before, the day Pascal had been akumatized a second time. This was none of his business and he felt like he was nosing around in her personal life just by being here.

"I have to go now—"

Marinette speedily put a finger to her lips as Pascal began some rant he didn't pay attention to. He tried his best to block it out but he did catch unhappy mentions of Erek and male company.

Marinette turned the volume almost completely down as he got louder and put it on mute.

"Sorry," she said. "It's Pascal, he heard you and now he thinks I have a new boyfriend."

"And he's mad about that?"

"He's just being petty right now. He'll get over it."

At least the sounds from the phone were too low for him to hear anything aside from indiscernible mumbling. No more privacy invasions.

"I should probably get going anyway," he decided. Not that she had made any attempt to make him stay but she would return to her conversation sooner or later and he would hear everything again. "It's getting a little late. It was nice seeing you again."

"It might be a good idea for you to leave anyway. Adrien should be done showering any minute now and if he sees me with Chat Noir, he'll freak out thinking something is wrong."

Wow. He wasn't that bad. Now if it had been a hospital, yes, probably.

"Alright. I have to get back home anyway," he said. "See you around, princess, and good luck with Pascal!"

He turned and jumped off the balcony, extending his baton before he hit the ground to keep himself airborne as he pretended to move in the opposite direction. With all of Adrien's unexplained disappearances replaced with Chat's convenient appearances, he couldn't risk letting her think he lived anywhere near this vicinity.

After he was certain she wouldn't see him anymore—or at least not very well at night—he dropped between two buildings. He would have to circle back quickly, sneaking around her as Chat Noir and detransforming right before slipping inside the apartment. Adrien couldn't be seen outside at all with Marinette believing he was in the shower.

It was fairly easy getting back. Not many people noticed him and those who did seemed to ignore him, perhaps unaware of who they were seeing. Sometimes being dressed entirely in black was a curse, as when he was searching for Marcel, but other times it was a blessing, as when he was attempting to camouflage himself in shadows and darkness.

He timed his entrance to avoid being seen but was forced to detransform before he even reached his front door. Erek was in the bedroom sleeping, that much he knew. The shower was only reachable through the bedroom. He did have a half bath accessible from the living room, but this was the only full one.

He sucked in a breath as he casually walked up to the door, passing a few night owls that Chat Noir couldn't approach without unwanted attention.

He wasn't incognito as he usually was, but these people weren't stirring up much of a fuss about a celebrity gracing them with his presence. It was appreciated more than they knew. In fairness, the people living in this complex—including these late-night stragglers—were upper class themselves, so perhaps they simply didn't care all that much about another upper class individual passing by.

He slowly opened the door he'd intentionally left unlocked and anxiously peeked inside. Chat Noir couldn't sneak back in through the balcony doors or the windows in the bedroom, and the only other windows were located on each side of the balcony doors and too small to fit through.

Marinette was still sipping her milk on the balcony, her back turned to look at the city lights in the near distance. He very quietly slipped through the door and shut it slowly. She couldn't hear him with the balcony doors and windows closed, but he didn't feel like taking any risks right now. For some reason he kept getting the idea that he was in trouble with her. She hadn't yelled at him about that kiss or anything and he understood now that she knew it was a mistake and he didn't mean it…but he still couldn't shake the feeling of trepidation.

He locked the door and tiptoed to his bedroom, this time contending with both Erek's and Marinette's hearing—more so Erek's since the little boy was right behind the door.

He nearly cursed when the door creaked open, but thankfully it wasn't loud enough to wake Erek up. His last obstacle would be the bathroom door, which he knew would creak too and would stop muffling the sound of the shower running. That in itself could wake him.

Plagg remained silent as well. Ever since Marinette moved in, he'd had difficulties coming in and out as Chat Noir. It wasn't impossible, but whereas before he didn't have to hide or make excuses—he simply had to wait for Erek to fall asleep before patrolling as Chat—now he had to take an insane number of measures to avoid detection at all, be it as Adrien or Chat. It still upset Plagg but by now the kwami had let it go.

He successfully made it into the bathroom and shed his clothes as quickly as possible. Not only did he actually need a shower after jumping off rooftops and running around, but he had to look clean and fresh to fool Marinette into thinking that Adrien had been showering the entire time Chat had been patrolling.

He bathed himself as much as possible, reaching the bare minimum of cleanliness in what felt like seconds. He took so much extra care to convince Marinette of his whereabouts that long showers…well, he didn't want them to last too long. Never once had Plagg called him paranoid for potentially overthinking every little detail. So far she and Erek both appeared to be unaware of Chat's and Adrien's tight relationship, so even if he was going too far, it was working.

When he hopped out and dried off, the first thing he did was check on Erek. Marinette had moved from the balcony at some point and was now asleep beside him. He hated to imagine coming back just a minute later and having her discover his absence this whole time. He had no idea how he could've talked his way out of that one.

He crept out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him, letting out a sigh of relief as he did.

"Maybe you should consider having her house rebuilt," Plagg quietly suggested. "You have the money."

Adrien moved away from the door and settled himself into the couch. The blanket he slept with was slung over the back and he pulled it around him to cozy up after a long and, what with Marinette calling him a bad kisser, disappointing night.

"I know I can ask her about it but I don't want her to leave…" he confessed. "It's…really selfish…"

"You heard her earlier, Adrien, that kiss really messed things up."

"I'm aware of the setback," he said with slight annoyance. "I'm just so worried that she'll be alone if—when—something happens to her."

"She can always just call for help."

"Yeah, she can, but she won't. If she gets the opportunity to seclude herself again, nobody will hear from her. We won't know if she's okay."

"But that's her house, Adrien… I don't think she has the money to rebuild it and even worse, it's getting really hard to be Chat Noir with her around. I thought Erek was a struggle but Marinette…sheesh…"

"Like I said, I know it's selfish of me and maybe you're right, maybe I should rebuild her house…but that would take a long time and even if it took a day I feel like staying with me is in her best interest. This is where Erek is and I can keep an eye on her just in case. She won't have that if she moves out."

Plagg growled in irritation but otherwise backed down.

He had considered paying to have Marinette's house rebuilt and surprising her with it, but realized afterward that his little fantasy would take away the security she had with him. He thought of Pascal becoming akumatized again and hurting her, he thought of her lungs filling with blood again, and he thought of her eating a small dinner at a table with one chair…alone. He didn't want to send her back to that life, even if it was something she would want.

"Maybe we should just…try to get some sleep?" Adrien said. "I know we have our hardships now but we're getting through them and that's what matters."

He pulled his pillow from over the edge of the couch and comfortably exhaled as he let his head sink into it. It really wasn't so bad sleeping on the couch and after all this time he'd grown used to it. Now he actually preferred it.

It was several more minutes before he vaguely realized Plagg had started speaking, but at this point it was muffled and the sound was warped and indiscernible, shortly after replaced with a much more welcome voice.

Faded, though.

Almost with an echo.

As if… he was listening to a ghost.

Adrien…"

It was feminine.

Familiar.

"Adrieeennnn," the voice repeated, this time singsong.

His last conscious decision was to let himself be claimed by this voice he so desired to hear once again.

"Ladybug," he said with a smile as she came into view.

"I have a gift for you," she told him.

She held out a fist and turned it up, unfolding her fingers to reveal a ring. This ring wasn't his engagement ring, but it wasn't a regular piece of jewelry either. This looked eerily like a wedding ring.

But he hadn't even proposed yet, how did they get married?

And when?

"Take this back," she added.

"I-I didn't…give this to you…"

"My arm is getting tired, kitty."

He delicately took the ring from her and watched her arm return to her side.

The ring became heavier and heavier the longer he held it.

"It's too much for me," Ladybug said sadly.

"Then just let it go, it's okay," he replied.

"You need to let it go too."

He dropped the ring, which to him was of no value—it was the first time he'd seen it. The relief on that arm was more immense than he had anticipated.

"Good kitty…" she cooed. "Now it's my turn, okay?"

He nodded but quickly realized that he had no clue what she meant by that.

"Are we playing a game, my lady?" he playfully asked.

Trepidation…was the best word for the ensuing silence.

"There are some things you need to know, Chat," she said.

"O-Of course! What would you like to talk about?"

How long had he waited to peacefully talk to her the way they used to? To sit together, overlooking Paris as two halves of a whole, and discuss the mundane. Such little things in life were so precious to him now. They had become memories now but they were his favorite ones.

"I love you," she answered.

It made his heart soar to new heights.

"But…" she murmured. "…it hurts…"

"It… What hurts? Is it me? Am I hurting you?"

"In a way…" she replied. "…yes."

His heart crashed with that.

"In what way…?" he breathed.

"Stop wishing to see me," she said. "Ladybug absolutely must go away. It hurts."

He kept silent, urging her to go on.

"My body. These transformations." She inhaled and looked away, ashamedly for whatever reason. "The…storm…"

He was still quiet, deciding it was best to wait for her to finish explaining why she needed to disappear forever even though he was dying to stop that.

"You know I'm already sick…" she mumbled. "I can carry on for a while longer as—"

Her voice was muted for a moment, cut off as she belched green bubbles…which to him…suggested she may have been about to say her civilian name. She continued her sentence as if she'd never been interrupted afterwards though.

"—but the transformations into Ladybug are…painful…and worse, being Ladybug and gaining these magical abilities…m-my body can't keep up. The powers…overwhelm me. My physical body…to be clear. Not my mind. I can handle stress, kitty, but I can't choose what goes wrong when I transform. It could be anything…at any time…and I can only recover, even a little bit, if Ladybug is out of the picture."

"But—"

"Take—" She belched out a few more green bubbles. "—to the hospital when the time comes. There will be many times…but…it's the only way—" More green bubbles to censor herself. "—will have the slightest chance of survival."

He reluctantly stayed quiet for a while longer…not only allowing himself time to process this new information, but also to figure out who she was trying to talk about. And why the censorship? He already knew he was dreaming…even in the dream itself. But why was this dream-Ladybug refusing to tell him who this person was.

Or perhaps it was because he didn't know, and therefore his dream couldn't reveal her civilian self to him. He knew there was a magic spell on Plagg that would prevent him from saying the name of his current holder to anyone aside from that holder, so maybe he was projecting the same spell onto this imaginary Ladybug.

And yet…somehow…Ladybug had a whole explanation planned out.

Maybe…maybe he…didn't need…to hear her name…

What if Ladybug could show him?

"My lady…" he whispered. "Show me who's behind the mask…"

Ladybug frowned and looked away.

"My name is—" More bubbles, as expected.

"Detransform, Ladybug," he said hesitantly.

If Ladybug was somehow communicating with him telepathically… It was a stretch, but if she had found some way to reach out to him via dreams, he finally had some way of helping her. He could personally get rid of Ladybug and care for the wonderful woman in the suit…the woman behind the mask. His love. His world.

"If I don't know who you are, how am I ever supposed to help you?" he asked, encouraging her to reveal her civilian form—her real self.

Ladybug looked down in thought and furrowed her brows, considering his words. It didn't take long before she sighed and nodded in agreement. It was at this moment he expected to see who she really was. He expected the soft flash of pink and the spots and mask to disappear.

Instead, more censorship…

She became blurry and by the time she detransformed, he was unable to make out who she was. He could see a blur of colors. Blue at the top, white-ish green-ish in the middle, and light pink at the bottom. But he couldn't even make out a human shape.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and quickly turned around.

"Ma…Marinette…"

"Who were you talking to, kitty?" she asked.

"I was…" He snapped his head back to the blob of colors but…whoever she was, she was gone. "Nobody…"

"Were you talking to me, kitty cat?"

Kitty…cat…

"N-No. No, I was… It…was nothing."

She had blue hair. White-ish green-ish shirt. Light pink pants.

He almost choked in his own dream.

"Marin… Are you… Y-You're…" He drew a very sharp breath.

She stepped towards him, her body touching his. Her chest leaning against his. Her face…close to his. Her lips…an inch away from his…

He couldn't dare kiss Marinette now. Not even in a dream. Or a nightmare. Whatever this was. Not after what he'd done before.

"I don't know…if…I…" Those eyes though…pools of gorgeous blue… "I…um…" Staring directly into his… That soft smile… "Should…" He…wanted this… "Can't…" It was just a dream, after all. He was single, he wasn't cheating. Reality wouldn't know. Nobody had to know.

He was more or less frozen in place, so Marinette—er, rather, dream Marinette—closed the gap between them. Strawberry again…she tasted…like strawberry…

Strawberry was slowly replacing passionfruit as his favorite flavor of anything.

"It's like…kissing Ladybug…" he mumbled against Marinette's lips, belatedly realizing what he'd just said.

"Good," Marinette calmly replied—a rather shocking response even in a dream. "I would hate for it to feel like anyone else."

"Are…you…m-my…lady…?" he choked out, unwilling to hear her answer.

She didn't verbally reply to him, but she giggled and smiled flirtatiously. It didn't…quite answer his question. But maybe that was because he didn't want her to. If she said no, what if it was a lie to cover her identity? If she said yes, even though this was just a dream…it had more meaning to him…he was aware. It was beyond a mere lucid dream. It was as if the characters here were trying to tell him something—something that went deeper than a budding romance with someone he considered a dear friend…until now, at least… Maybe she was a crush at best in this dream.

But her looks.

The colors.

The kiss.

The flirting.

The silence…

It was…as if Ladybug was here…

She kissed like that, she flirted like that, she felt like that, she looked like that.

Like Marinette.

But he wasn't getting a straight answer.

He…didn't want a straight answer.

He wouldn't allow himself to believe something so outlandish.

Marinette was not his lady.

A/N

UHHH OHHHHH. Taking guesses as to why this dream is practically exposing Ladybug's identity. Theories welcome.

Took me a good while to update this because life. Didn't have time to work on it like I expected I would. Sorry!