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“Of course you’re her,” he breathes, his eyes softening as he brings his hand to her face and rubs her cheek with his thumb–tracing the outline of where her mask would have been.
“I was,” Marinette states simply, heart racing with the enormity of this confession. Ten years. Ten long years she had kept this secret from her boyfriend, fiance, husband. She holds her breath, waiting for his anger, his hurt, any outburst he was due at the depth of this betrayal.
But it doesn’t come. Adrien–oh, her precious, sweet Adrien–smiles. “It couldn’t have been anyone else.”
Marinette nods, her heart bursting for the love of this man. The man she could trust with anything. The man she should have trusted with this secret long before now. Tears pool at the corners of her eyes.
“You gave up your miraculous for me,” his thumb pads at the wetness in her eyes.
“I did.” She responds resolutely, not questioning how Adrien had figured out this simple fact. Because of course he did. Adrien always understood Marinette’s heart. And the timing of Ladybug’s disappearance and the true beginning of their relationship was just too perfect, too glaringly obvious with the final piece of missing information for Adrien not to immediately jump to the correct conclusion.
“Ladybug,” Adrien says her name like a prayer, resuming his ministrations of the outline of her mask. “Ladybug gave up her miraculous for me.”
This time it is Marinette’s turn to smile. “I would give up the world for you, Adrien.”
She looks into his emerald eyes, and she remembers another pair, not with horror this time, nor with regret. It is clear to her now that they had each made their choice. And while there would always be a void in her heart at his absence, that void is no longer a source of fear of what happened to him but is now a source of peace. The peace of knowing that he too has a family–a loving wife and daughter to brighten his life. Just as Adrien, Emma, and Louis brightens her own. Marinette sighs in content as Adrien leans down and touches his forehead to hers.
“We did the same thing,” he laughs through a sob.
But she cannot understand his words. She tries to think of what on earth Adrien could possibly be talking about. But she–but he–
“I always wondered,” he interrupts her spiraling thoughts. And he sounds different–excited, somber, manic even. Her blood burns at his tone, her gut twinging in dreaded anticipation. “I never knew. Did Ladybug ever feel betrayed that I just disappeared?” He sharply exhales. “But we did the same thing!”
You didn’t!
Her breathing falters and she claws at his chest, nails digging into his bare skin. Everything is heavy, from her ragged breaths that are getting harder to take: to the brick that has taken residence upon her heart.
Adrien never did those things. His words, they don’t–they don’t make sense!
“Adrien,” She pants against the heaviness of his forehead. “What-what are you saying?”
He whimpers and his entire body convulses as he sinks his weight across the top portion of her body, carefully avoiding her pregnant belly. Her hands burn as they continue to dig into his flesh, trapped between their chests.
“I’m so sorry I showed up as Cat Walker,” he continues to sob and Marinette’s body stiffens in defense. “I didn’t know!” She sucks a hissing breath between her teeth as he slams his fist against the mattress. “That was such a–I was such a–”
“You were Cat Walker?” She seethes–the emotion, hurt, betrayal too raw as she rolls him off her chest. She whinnies, hoisting herself into a sitting position, pulling her knees to her bosom. Well, at least attempting to draw her legs close against herself. Damn her pregnant belly and DAMN her pregnancy emotions!
She thought she was over this! But one damn mention of that damn cat, and she is once again roiling in hysterics.
Adrien curls into the fetal position, sobs racking his body, and all Marinette can think about is how it was him who showed up that previous evening. He was the one who had told her Chat Noir was not coming. He was the one who knew her partner’s identity. After all these years of silent regret, always wondering, never knowing–it was Adrien that knew the fate of her partner. It was her husband that could have given her peace. She could have asked him. He could have told her! But she didn’t know! And, oh! How things could have been different if she had just told Adrien she was Ladybug from the very beginning!
But Chat Noir doesn’t want her to know. The realization of this fact hits her tenfold as the wound is once again ripped open. He sent Adrien instead of showing up himself. He is wise enough to know and to prevent their inevitable disastrous meeting. If Marinette had known Adrien was Cat Walker ten years ago, she could have asked. But now…now she has no place, no right to know that information. And to ask that of Adrien. To ask him to betray her partner’s trust? No she couldn’t do that.
But god–god ! He knew that she had tried to summon Chat Noir. What must he think of her? Her unfaithful heart now lay bare in front of her husband. She trembles–shame, regret, remorse flowing as a fiery river throughout her body. No wonder Adrien is crying…
She unwraps her arms from her legs, reaching a hand towards her husband’s still shaking figure. “Adrien, I’m so–”
“I never meant to hurt you, m’lady,” he whimpers so quietly that it takes a few seconds for her mind to register the words.
My lady.
The nickname pierces her heart, an involuntary gasp and sudden hot tears escaping her body. Cat Walker had never called her by that name. No. That term was reserved by her partner and her partner only.
“I’m going to be sick.” She scrambles from the sheets and rushes to the bathroom. She barely makes it to the toilet before she retches, emptying the remains of that night’s dinner into its basin.
She listens for footsteps, but none come. She is alone in her sickness, and she doesn’t blame him for not coming.
Minutes later after she stops dry heaving, she sits on the hard tile, cold against her bare body, slamming her head back against the vanity.
M’lady.
His voice repeats in her mind.
M’lady.
It is a voice she would know anywhere–except for she hadn’t.
Oh my god , she wretched over the toilet again. Chat Noir is Adrien.
The same Chat Noir she had spent the better part of her youth fighting alongside–the same Chat Noir whose memory had haunted her for the past ten years. He had been Adrien. He had been her husband.
Louis kicks against her stomach and she sinks to her knees, arms limp by her sides as memory after memory of his kind smile before, during, and after every battle resurfaces. Tear tracks stain her cheeks as she allows herself to finally fully remember. She thought she had lost him, but Tikki was right. She had been wrong . She hadn’t lost Chat Noir. No! She had gained Adrien Agreste in every way that mattered. She has his heart– his body and soul. He is the father of her children!
Holy shit ! Her heart flutters, singing in revelation. Chat Noir is the father of her children! She scrambles to her feet. Not even bothering to wipe the spittle from her chin and sprints back to the bedroom.
She stills at the edge of the bed, Adrien still curled up exactly where she left him. His shoulders convulse with his silent crying, and Marinette’s heart clenches at ever leaving him in such a condition.
“You saved us,” she pants. “Plagg found you as you were trying to get to us. And you saved us. Oh my god, Adrien. That was you!”
He peeks back at her as she crawls into the bed, her naked body spooning him perfectly from behind. “You knew my name.” She wraps her arms around him.
He shivers against the coldness of her bare skin. “Of course I did,” he sniffles. “You are my wife.” His voice is hoarse from crying, and she knows hers must sound equally as bad or worse. He turns his body to face her and for the first time those bright, teared-up eyes make her heart soar, not belonging to two–but one adorable man.
“Chat Noir is my husband.” She brushes the wet fringe from his face.
“Ladybug is the woman I would do anything for.” He sits up, leaving warm trails as he once again rubs his thumb across her cheek. “Ladybug was the woman my heart was exploding for as I raced across Paris during that last attack. Ladybug is the mother of my children,” he beams, those green, green eyes glistening in the lamplight.
“I never lost you.” The truth of the words are warm on her tongue, reviving the night’s ashes to a roaring, yet gentle flame. There is a fire burning in her heart–burning for her husband, her partner, Adrien.
“It has always been you,” he kisses the corner of her mouth. “This whole time. It has always been you, Marinette.” He leans for the other side of her lips, but she grabs the back of his head, pulling him in for a proper kiss.
One kiss after the other, she pours her love into him. With every touch and breath Marinette and Adrien discover each other all over again.
Later, as they lay warm and content in bed, their fingers intertwined, her head resting on his chest, Adrien breaks the silence. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
She hums to herself, calmed by the beating of his heart beneath her ear. Surely she doesn’t need to tell Chat Noir why she had kept her identity a secret. “I think you know why.”
“Okay. Yes. I do.” He starts rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “But why now? What changed?”
Everything. Nothing.
“Because I knew you were never coming back.” And she could no longer live with this pain alone. Alya was one thing, but as their friendship strained with time, her consolations could no longer compare with those from her husband. If she was never to see her partner again. If there truly was no longer any fear of him pulling her away from or making her betray Adrien, then there really was no longer a reason for her to keep this secret.
“I’m sorry.” His heart rate quickens but all else is silent. She won’t ask why he had done it. She now fully understands. In fact, she understands so well that she almost completely lost him. Oh god , if it hadn’t been for Tikki, she would have truly lost him.
“Adrien,” she sits up, letting go of his hand and tracing the lines where his mask had been, “I almost gave up everything.”
Shifting onto his elbow, he gently takes hold of her wrist, and her heart clenches at the concern in his expression. “What do you mean, m’lady?”
“When you showed up as Chat Noir,” the confession pours from her lips. “After all these years of suppressing my emotions, my feelings for him. I couldn’t take it. I went to Scarabella. I tried to force her to become the guardian but Tikki–”
“You’re still the guardian.” He whinnies as he buries his head in her chest. Her fingers find purchase in his golden locks, petting him gently in affirmation.
“I am.”
“You almost–you almost gave up all of your memories.” His body shakes again. “And I showed up as damn Cat Walker.”
Well…
“I think that was for the best. That allowed me to finally give up–”
“You were broken, Marinette!” He sits up, taking both of her wrists in his hands. “And I didn’t even notice!”
But it’s not like she ever told him.
“You did what you thought was right!” And his choice was right in those circumstances, no matter how much she hated to admit it.
“I was a coward,” he releases her wrists, lowering his hands and his eyes, “and I was selfish.” Her heart squeezes in her chest as she sees Adrien looking more remorseful and self-deprecating than she had ever seen him.
“We were both being selfish, Adrien,” she whispers as she lifts his chin with her palm, hoping to convey the truth of her words in her expression. “I couldn’t let go of my feelings. I was too terrified to tell you about who I was or how I was feeling, because I thought I would lose you. So what did I do instead of trying to work through it?!? I tried to erase everything! I’m such an idiot!”
And she sees it. Just as she had seen it in her partner’s eyes every time he made a decision. It’s the same–his look of steeled resolution. She’d seen it a hundred times on Chat Noir and hundreds more on Adrien. It was the same. And her soul sings at the recognition.
He lunges forward, embracing her in his gentle strength, nuzzling his head against her shoulder. “But you didn’t.”
She chokes, “I tried.”
“You didn’t.” He squeezes harder and her heart nearly breaks at how close she had come to losing him, losing this, forever.
“Tikki stopped me.” A new torrent of tears made rivers of her cheeks. “She knew. She knew we were together. We were happy. She-”
“We are.” Adrien leans back, his steeled gaze piercing past the moistured haze of her eyes.
“What?”
“My Lady.” He lovingly caresses the bump between them. Louis shifts beneath the ministrations of his father. “We have to stop living in what ifs. For years I was terrified that Ladybug had given up being the guardian and forgotten everything about me. It almost made me sick, thinking I was the only one who had to hold onto these memories–to forever try to hide and suppress my love for another woman.”
And there it was. The absolute truth laid bare, unbridled. The truth in her heart she had been more terrified of than anything. And she wasn’t alone. They truly were the same. They had both been blessed, yet suffering all this time from the same decision.
“Adrien,” is all she manages to muffle.
“But you didn’t, my love. You came close, but what matters most is that you didn’t.” The light catches and shimmers on his cheeks as he leans down to kiss Louis.
“Adrien I-”
He lifts his eyes, still bowed and kisses her hand. “You never forgot me, my lady. You have always been right there. My rock. My fortress. My every living breath. My lady. My Ladybug. You have always been right there by my side.”
There is nothing left for her to do but to cry, ugly sobs racking through her body as she clutches her husband. She remembers her wedding. Seeing Adrien, Chat Noir, at the end of the aisle, waiting for her, his expression brightening. She sees Adrien’s–Chat Noir’s smile as he first holds Emma, their daughter–her green eyes, his eyes.
Ten years not knowing. But ten years of happiness, nonetheless. She wouldn’t trade them for anything. And now? Now she would get to spend an endless future getting to know Chat Noir all over again: her best friend, her lover, her partner in everything.
How had she ever gotten so lucky?
* * *
“Are you sure we are doing the right thing?” Adrien asks her again as they walk the path up to the little, white cottage. It was endearing how he always worried about her, but seriously, there is no need. Emma and baby Louis are safe with her parents, and while they eventually would like to try for another, there are no immediate plans for another pregnancy.
“I have never felt more sure about anything, ever,” Marinette affirms as she guides him to the front porch. They knock on the door together.
It opens and Alya greets her in a customary kiss to both her cheeks before guiding them to the living room. A tea set is already waiting for them on the table as Alya motions for them to sit down.
“I have to say,” she begins, eyebrows raised as she fills their cups from the hot kettle, “I was quite surprised when the both of you asked to visit while Nino is out of town. You two got some sort of big secret you don’t want him knowing about?”
Marinette and Adrien both laugh, taking their respective cups from their host. “Not exactly.” Marinette blows the hot liquid. “But it is something I wanted to first share just between us. We can talk to Nino once he returns home.”
“Or we can wait.” Adrien shrugs his shoulders, and Marinette elbows him. They had decided to wait and tell Alya and Nino both their identities until they were able to come to this moment. It had been a long eight months waiting, but they had to hold off until Louis was no longer an infant. Adrien still thinks Marinette should wait a little longer, but her mind had long since been decided.
Alya parts her lips to speak, but Marinette simply raises her hand and says, “Alya Lahiffe. As guardian I now renounce you as the holder of the miraculous of creation.”
Alya looks between her and Adrien. Marinette can see the shock dancing across her expression at the fact Marinette would be saying these things in front of her, assumedly oblivious, husband.
“We are grateful for all the sacrifices you and Nino have made for us,” she continues, ignoring Alya’s reservations. “We know you can never get that time back. But it is our turn to once again take on that burden.”
Alya’s look of utter confusion does not go unnoticed. However, the visible relaxation of the hero’s load being lifted from her shoulders only strengthens Marinette’s resolve. She reaches out her hand and Alya removes the studs from her lobes, Tikki immediately being drawn back into them at her holder’s renunciation. The red and black spotted jewelry lays heavy in Marinette’s palms, unlike the freedom she gained from them eight months ago.
“I have already retrieved the miraculous of destruction,” she speaks before Alya can bombard her with questions. Marinette inserts the earrings into her ears. Tikki flashes before them and Marinette catches her in her palms. “It is time that Ladybug and Chat Noir take the burden once again.”
Adrien stands, walking over to the wearied reporter. “Thank you, Alya.” He leans down, kissing her cheek. “We owe you everything.”
Alya is silent as Adrien returns to his seat. Then her eyes slowly drop to look at the silver ring on his finger–the ring Adrien hadn’t been seen with since he was a teenager.
“Of course it was you.” She grins widely and a tear slips from her eye. She stands, coming to kneel between the two of them, her warm arms wrapping around both Marinette and Adrien. “Thank you,” she breathes. “Both of you. You have always been my heroes. And Nino and I will never forget this kindness.”
“Just as we have never forgotten yours,” Marinette chokes against a sob. “Now go live your life, just as we have lived ours. It’s your turn for happiness, Alya.”
Alya whimpers, her shoulders bobbing from her quiet crying. Ten years of her life this woman had given. Marinette has always been grateful, and she is happy to finally, finally have a chance to show it.
Alya sniffles. “But what about your children?” She pushes back enough to look between them. “And isn’t it dangerous for Nino and me to know both your identities?”
“Emma and Louis have my parents to help watch them. And I’m sure that now Auntie Alya suddenly has lots more freedom, she can be convinced to sometimes join the babysitting duty.” Marinette winks. “As for our identities, sure it’s a bit risky, but I’m tired of keeping secrets. I nearly gave up my memories just to forget a man I thought I would never see again, only to find out that surprise he was the freaking man I married! I dare say secrets are far more damaging than their worth, and if I’m wrong in this conclusion, Bunnyx will show up to stop me.”
Alya laughs, more boisterous and heartfelt than Marinette has heard in years. And just as quickly and as easily as their friendship had originally begun, Marinette knows everything between her and Alya has been forgiven.
* * *
She shouldn’t be surprised.
But as the light of their transformations fades, Marinette can’t help but to gasp, her heart temporarily stopping its beating as she gazes through that familiar black mask, his green eyes gleaming. Everything is exactly the same: his golden bell, black leather belt, twitching cat-ears atop his windswept locks. Everything is different: his broadened shoulders, the slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the smirk of his lips–which she had on countless occasions kissed until they were senseless. That’s right. Her heart catches in her throat.
They had always been together.
Her blood burns. But unlike when she saw him in the grocery store, this time it is for a completely different reason. Whereas she had been frozen in the midst of her partner’s presence when he was a stranger, an enigma, something forbidden–now he is so completely and irrevocably hers that there is nothing keeping her from immediately closing the distance.
“There you are, Chaton ,” she whispers, and his arms swaddle her in reverence. She buries her head in his chest. Yes . Every decision they had made had led them to this exact moment. And right now, being embraced in her husband’s, her partner’s arms–everything is perfect.
-Fin-