Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rouen was not Paris. Both were, of course, major French settlements and in that, they were more alike then not. Both hugged the sides of the Seine as it snaked across the French countryside, both were home to great works of historical architecture and both turned miserable and dreary when the January fog banks rolled in. No, the difference ran deeper, it was in the air, the shape of the buildings and the walk of the people. It was in the way their eyes remained ahead as they walked, without nervously scanning the sky; a trait so common among the people of Paris.

And after three years of fighting, Rouen was exactly what Adrien needed.

The boy, now seventeen, wiped his hands on his apron and brushed his shaggy blond hair away from his eyes. He’d grown it out over the last year, letting it be until it resembled the wild mane of his alter ego.

Adrien finished wrapping a wheel of brie and snagged a slice of camembert from a wooden cutting board on the bench. He flicked it over his shoulder and smirked as a dark shadow swooped past him and engulfed the slice whole, letting out a contented belch.

“Manners Plagg,” Adrien chided.

The shadow spun to face him and a pair of catlike green eyes opened lazily.

“We’ve got the run of the place while your boss is out kid,” the Kwami of destruction drawled smugly. “I don’t have to mind anything.” The little god let out another belch and drifted down to rest in Adrien’s hair. “You, on the other hand, better hurry up and get that brie out to your customer.’

Adrien jolted into action, sliding the wrapped wheel into a paper bag and pushing through the door into the storefront.

“One wheel of brie right here Mrs Bourline,” he called.

The Mrs Bourline in question scowled at him and reached for her purse. “How many times do I have to tell you Adrien, that it’s Caroline to you!”

A stunning woman with flaming red hair that ran in waves down her back and blue eyes sharp enough to pierce steel, Caroline Bourline was a regular at Abelard’s Fromagerie and one of Adrien’s favourite customers.

He chuckled. “I distinctly recall you telling me to address you as Mrs Bourline when we first met. Rather emphatically I might add.”

Caroline let out an exasperated groan, offset by the light grin on her lips. “I’m never going to live that down am I?” She tapped her card on the reader and Adrien handed her the bag.

“Definitely not,” he said. “You left quite an impression. I still have the scar.”

Caroline flushed. “You can hardly blame me can you? It’s not every day you walk into your local fromagerie and… well…” She trailed off sheepishly.

Adrien snickered. “I hope you get good mileage out of that story at parties.”

Caroline snorted. “As if I have time for parties anymore. Taking care of Jane eats up all my time, and that was before Harold left for his work trip. Toddlers are exhausting.”

“When does he get back again?” Adrien asked.

“Two weeks,” Caroline replied grumpily. “I don’t suppose I could ask you to babysit for me one of these days?” She batted her eyelashes at him seductively and Adrien laughed, his shoulders shaking.

“I’d love to. I haven’t seen Jane in ages.”

“Oh brilliant!” Caroline beamed at him. “I’ll have a day for you next time I come in.” She strode to the door. “Take care darling!”

Adrien waved his goodbye and the door swung shut, catching the little brass bell with a ding. He grinned and was about to grab a broom when a meaty hand slammed down on his shoulder.

“Adrien!”

His boss’ voice boomed out from behind him, reverberating across the shop and Adrien almost leapt out of his skin.

“How many times must I tell you not to flirt with the customers?”

“Hey,” Adrien protested, spinning on his heel and glaring down at the short, portly man he called boss. “We’ve been making more ever since I started working in the till. Clearly my way of doing things is working!”

Abelard Thomas’ soft brown eyes widened and he roared with laughter, his great moustache and even greater belly heaving with mirth. It took him a moment to calm down and Adrien smiled fondly at his boss.

“My boy,” Abelard said once he’d stopped shaking. “I’ve taught you well.” He wiped a happy tear from his eye.

Adrien surged forward and gripped him by the shoulders, a thrum of excitement coursing through him. “So?” he asked eagerly. “How did it go?”

Abelard shook his head conspiratorially. “I’m not allowed to say anything! She wants to tell you herself.”

As if on cue, the shop door bust open with the force of a hurricane and a small blonde storm flew through.

“Adrien! Adrien!” the storm screeched and threw herself at him. “He said yes!”

Adrien caught little ball of excitement with a whoop and spun her around. “That’s fantastic Clementine! I’m so happy for you!”

He set her down and she immediately thrust her hand at his face, almost punching his nose. “I’m engaged!” she babbled. “Oh you’re not going to believe this!” She spun on her feet giddily. “I had the whole lunch planned out and I was just about to pop the question and can you guess what he does?” She froze and stared at Adrien, vibrating with excitement. “Can you?”

“What did he do Clem?” Adrien asked, unable to keep the smile off his face.

“He gets down on one knee and proposes! To me!” She stomped her foot. “He hijacked my whole plan! The bastard!” She swooned. “Oh I love him so much.”

Adrien laughed. “About time!” He clasped his hands together. “My little sister, finally getting married!”

“Oi!” Clementine elbowed him in the stomach, “I’m three years older than you, you ass!”

“And yet you’ll never reach higher than my hip.”

“Oooh, you!” Clementine wagged a finger at him. “If I weren’t in such a good mood, I’d wallop you!”

Adrien sniggered and stuck his tongue out at her, earning himself an eye-roll.

“Ugh,” she groaned. “Daaad, Adrien’s being mean to me!”

“Adrien, be nice,” Abelard called from his spot at the counter, where he was organising the till.

“Ha!” Clementine waved her hand airily. “Well, I’d love to stay and gossip with you all, but I have a wedding to plan,” she said, singing the last few words. She practically pranced out the door and Adrien imagined she’d be skipping the whole way home.

He shook his head. A year ago, he’d never have imagined his life the way it was now. A year ago, he’d been fighting Hawkmoth, applying to universities and preparing to begin modelling for his father full-time. Oh how things change. A year ago, he’d been deeply in love with his Lady in Spots as they kept Paris safe. A year ago…

Adrien wondered what his lady was doing now. Whether she’d finished school and pursued that elusive dream career she was so fixated on. Whether she’d come clean to her parents and the friends she had cried to him about neglecting over so many nights. Whether she still thought of their time together. Whether she still thought of him.

A pat on the back broke him out of his reverie.

“That’ll be you too someday my boy,” Abelard said.

Adrien turned to face him and Abelard must have read the sadness on his face because suddenly Adrien found himself pulled into Abelard’s warm arms.

“Trust me,” he said. “We’ll find a good girl to set you up with and then both my children will live happy, love-filled lives.”

Adrien chuckled weakly, and was a little surprised to feel a patch of wetness on his cheek.

I didn’t even realise I was crying.

“I appreciate your confidence Abelard, but…” Adrien gestured helplessly at himself. “People look at me and only see one thing.”

“Nonsense.” Abelard said firmly, releasing Adrien and fixing him with a stare. “Anyone who gets to know you, knows you’re nothing like your father. And anyone who thinks you’re nothing more than the son of Hawkmoth doesn’t deserve your time anyway.”

Adrien blinked, feeling the tears well up this time. Up on his head, he felt Plagg begin to knead his scalp comfortingly.

“Thanks Abelard,” he managed. “For everything.”

Abelard nodded. “Think nothing of it.” He paused and pursed his lips. “You’re going to Paris for the weekend, aren’t you?”

Adrien nodded.

“Excellent.” Abelard clapped his hands together. “Take the rest of the afternoon off. Go pack for your trip. I’ll finish up here.”

“I can help,” Adrien protested, but Abelard cut him off with a wave. “There’s not much to do anyway. Just some packing and sweeping. It’s nothing I can’t do myself, and I already had you running the whole shop for most of the day.”

“But-”

“I mean it,” Abelard said. “Go upstairs and rest.”

Adrien nodded. Then, compulsion seized him and he lurched forward, wrapping the man in another hug. Abelard chuckled, returning the embrace and patting him on the back.

“If you really want to help,” he said, “invite those friends of yours up here one of these days. Maybe that reporter friend of yours can write a piece on the best fromagerie in Normandy.”

“I’ll ask her,” Adrien said as he removed his apron. Then, with a small parting smile he lurched up the stairs to his apartment.

“You okay kid?”

Adrien grunted and pushed the door to his apartment open. It was a small studio apartment, everything the mansion was not. Adrien loved it. He’d decorated the walls with photos of his friends and paintings of varying styles. A big fluffy rug covered most of the floor and every piece of furniture was worn and smooth. Adrien was incredibly grateful that Abelard hadn’t been fazed by his décor choices. To anyone else, the splash of different colours would appear garish and conflicting. But to Adrien, who had grown up in a sterile, white box? It was beautiful.

He grabbed a marker and made a note on the small whiteboard hanging by the door to pass this month’s rent to Abelard before he left tomorrow. He snagged the remote and flicked the TV on before moving into the kitchen corner to grab himself a snack. The newscast played behind him.

“-As you know, today marks the one year anniversary since Hawkmoth was defeated and exposed as Gabriel Agreste, fashion mogul and business tycoon. And to celebrate, we have a special guest here today. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to Paris’ number one hero- Ladybug!”

Adrien’s head whipped around so fast his neck creaked in protest. The sound of cheering died down and Ladybug set herself down on the couch next to Njada Chamuck, who handed her a second microphone.

“Thanks for having me today Njada,” she smiled.

Adrien’s breath caught in his throat. In the year they’d been apart, she’d only grown more beautiful. Her hair was longer now, and her form fuller, but her gorgeous bluebell eyes still sparkled with the same determination and her pose carried the might of a full-fledged heroine.

“Please,” Njada said. “The pleasure is all mine.” She leaned forward in her seat. “So now that Hawkmoth has been defeated, how has life been treating you? I’m sure it’s so much easier now that you don’t have to worry about fighting akuma victims anymore!”

Ladybug laughed. “You’ve got that right Njada. I’ve finally been able to move forward with my life. I got into the study course I wanted and I might even start my own business soon!”

“Oh how exciting!” Njada exclaimed. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to give us a clue to what this business is about? I’m sure some publicity from Ladybug would make any business you start take off.”

“I’m sure it would,” Ladybug replied, eyes glinting with amusement. “But I want my business to rise on my own merits, not on the novelty of buying from a superhero.”

“And there you have it,” Njada announced proudly to the camera. “That’s exactly the mindset that won against Hawkmoth and returned safety to the streets of our Paris.”

Njada turned back to Ladybug, a frown on her face. “But you weren’t the only hero who brought down Hawkmoth, were you Ladybug?”

Ladybug’s expression darkened for an instant before it disappeared behind a tight smile. Adrien doubted anyone noticed how the microphone trembled minutely in her grasp.

Njada continued. “Because today also marks one whole year since the disappearance of your partner: the legendary Chat Noir.” She tilted her head. “Do you have anything to share with the people of Paris about where their beloved hero might be?”

Ladybug’s smile faltered briefly as she sat with the question a hair longer than necessary. “No,” Ladybug said finally, her voice calm and even. “I don’t know where he is.”

Njada nodded in disappointment. “I didn’t think so, but I had to ask.” She turned to the camera. “Then to Chat Noir. If you can hear this, if this reaches you, Paris loves you. We miss you. And we hope you’re alright.”

“Alright,” Plagg groused. “That’s enough of that for today.” He zipped over to the remote and Ladybug’s forlorn face was replaced by a burger commercial. Adrien remained, staring at the TV where Ladybug’s face had been. His blood pulsed wildly though his body. His chest ached. A part of him wanted to transform right here, to race back to Paris and take Ladybug in his arms and promise to never leave her alone again.

But he didn’t. His feet remained rooted to the floor. He couldn’t go back. He could never return home, never get to know his lady the way he’d wanted to ever since they’d met. He couldn’t. The sacrifice would be too great.

“Plagg,” he croaked. “Did I make the right choice by leaving?”

Plagg scoffed. “You fought a supervillain for three years while keeping Paris safe, defeated him and when he turned out to be your father, still turned him into the authorities. While keeping up with said father’s frankly unrealistic expectations. Cheese and crackers kid, if anyone deserves an early retirement it’s you.” Plagg’s face split into a toothy grin. “Just you wait. In a year, you’ll get access to your inheritance and then you can go wherever you want. The world’s your oyster.”

Plagg drifted about lazily. “We can travel the world and sample all the different kinds of cheese from their home countries. It’ll be one big adventure, trust me.”

“Even for you?” Adrien asked shakily. He forced himself to breath and flexed his fingers. “I’m sure you’ve seen everything before.”

“Bah,” Plagg waved a paw dismissively. “Everything changes so much between the times I’m active it’s like stepping into a whole new world.” His voice changed, carrying a hint of affection. “I never get tired of rediscovering it with my kittens.”

Adrien swallowed roughly, blinking back tears. “Then that’s what we’ll do.” he announced firmly. “You and me, we’ll rediscover the world and its cheeses.”

“Don’t forget fighting crime,” Plagg added. “We can’t just slack off the whole time.”

“And fight crime,” Adrien agreed. He sucked in a lungful of air and forced his legs to move. He crossed the room to his dresser. His duffel bag was mostly packed for his trip to Paris and he tossed a small packet with a toothbrush and some toothpaste on top of his clothes. A year ago, any bag he owned had been designer. This bag had been a ten euro purchase out of pure necessity and was worn and well used. Adrien appreciated it more than any other bag he’d owned.

“Get to bed early kid,” Plagg said, drifting down to rest in Adrien wild blond locks.

“You need the rest.”

Adrien nodded. “Thanks Plagg.”

Chapter Text

Chat Noir threw himself across the Parisian rooftops with reckless abandon. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and dread pooled in his gut. His breath came in short puffs, misting in the cold air.

Run.

Run!

His instincts screamed at him and Chat Noir was all too happy to oblige, flinging himself over a bridge and towards the train station. That was all he had to do, reach the station and then he could escape. He could leave Paris and never be found again. His ears twitched, picking up a faint sound behind him. A new wave of terror pushed him onwards. He scrambled up a wall, claws digging into brick. He reached up to pull himself onto the roof and his claws slid off the shingles like they were made of glass.

In an instant, Chat Noir was tipping backwards and falling down into the alley below.

The wind rushed past his ears and the feline hero twisted instinctively, just in time to hit the ground in a (relatively) graceful three-point landing. He crouched there for a moment, ears straining for any sign of movement. Nothing. Chat stood carefully.

“Hello Chat.”

Chat flung himself towards the alley entrance. He didn’t make it far. Cables snaked around his wrists and ankles, arresting his movement. He collapsed onto the hard cobblestones, desperately trying to free himself.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” his captor was walking, and Chat stopped gnawing on the cable restraining his wrists as he found himself staring at a pair of red and black spotted boots. His blood turned to ice.

Ladybug’s silhouette blocked out the sun as she crouched over him and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“Goodness Chat,” she said casually. “You’ve really let yourself go.” She grabbed his chin and moved his head, examining him carefully.

“It’s uncanny,” she said. “I can’t believe I never saw it sooner.” She sat back on her heels and chuckled. “Who would have thought it huh? My trusted partner, actually the son of my greatest enemy.” She looked him in the eyes. “Isn’t that funny Adrien?”

His ring was beeping shrilly now, and in a flash of light, it was Adrien lying on the cold, hard ground. Ladybug tutted.

“We can’t have that now, can we?” She reached for his ring. “I’m going to make sure this goes to someone who deserves it.”

“No!” Adrien choked out. “Plagg!”

The ring slid off his finger. It was still shrieking.

“Plagg!”

“Kid?”

Adrien lurched upright. His alarm was beeping. Adrien reached over and switched it off. Sweat coated his body and he sucked in a mouthful of air, trying to calm his racing heart.

Plagg hovered over him, eyeing him worriedly. “Some nightmare huh?”

Adrien tossed the covers aside. “Nothing worse than usual.”

“Uh huh.” Plagg followed him to the kitchen and watched as Adrien downed three glasses of water in rapid succession. “Kid, you usually call for Ladybug in your nightmares. Not me. Anything you want to share?”

Adrien shook his head and turned on the shower. “Just a nightmare where Hawkmoth got our miraculouses,” he lied. Plagg’s eyes narrowed but he remained silent, choosing to zip over to the kitchen as Adrien stripped and washed himself. The hot water was soothing and Adrien slowly felt his heart rate return to normal, washing away the icy fear.

When he was done, he wiped his hair dry and wrapped the towel around his waist. Plagg had already put bread in the toaster and Adrien smiled at him appreciatively.

“Back to Paris today Plagg,” he said, sliding a shirt over his damp hair. “You excited?”

Plagg scrunched his nose. “Only if we’re getting cheese bread from that bakery near the Louvre.”

Adrien finished getting dressed. The toaster dinged and Adrien grabbed the slice, not bothering to put anything on it. “I suppose we could visit if you don’t cause any trouble.”

“Bah.” Plagg turned his nose up. “When have I ever been known to cause trouble?”

“When ever?” Adrien muttered, slinging his bag over his shoulder and munching on his rather plain breakfast. At the last second, he remembered to grab the envelope with the month’s rent and stuffed it into his pocket. He could leave it in one of the drawers for Abelard on the way out.

Plagg phased through the side of his bag and Adrien gave his apartment one last cursory glance. Nothing was out of place.

“Alright then,” he murmured. “Back to Paris.”

True to his word, Plagg was well-behaved the entire train ride into Paris. Adrien wasn’t sure how much of that was the thought of cheesy bread, or the spare phone and earbuds he’d given Plagg for entertainment while he sat in the bag. All thoughts of his kwami, however, were driven from his mind when he spotted a large, familiar figure barrelling his way towards them.

“Adrien!”

A pair of strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and Adrien found himself unceremoniously yanked off the ground and into the tightest bear hug he’d ever received.

“Alright Nino,” Adrien laughed as his best friend practically danced around in excitement. “You can put me down now.”

“No way dude!” Nino squeezed him tighter. “I have to make up for the last few months I haven’t seen you!”

Impossibly, Nino’s grip tightened again and Adrien was sure that he would have broken something if he hadn’t been a miraculous wielder himself. Clearly Carapace was still on active duty.

Finally, his best friend put him down and Adrien rubbed his arms. Nino was strong, and Adrien was definitely going to be sore tomorrow.

“So,” Nino said. “You ready for today? We’re having brunch with Alya and Marinette and then I was thinking we could catch a movie. There’s this new one coming out from this director I was able to meet back in august.”

Adrien listened as his friend chattered about the upcoming movie as they walked. Apparently Nino had actually met one of the composers at a festival a few months ago, and he’d gotten to hear a few of the sample tracks.

“-Obviously they have the right to change everything since it was only a test sample but…” Nino trailed off as they turned a corner and found themselves right in the middle of a fair. Banners featuring the miraculous team flapped over stalls and tents that lined the street selling hero merchandise. A young boy ran past holding a balloon with a picture of Ladybug and Chat Noir on the side.

Nino groaned and smacked his head. “The anniversary weekend.” He turned to Adrien. “I’m so sorry man, it totally slipped my mind.”

Adrien shook his head. “It’s fine Nino, don’t worry about it.”

“No, I should have remembered.” Nino looked at Adrien nervously, as if his best friend were made of glass and might crack at the slightest provocation. “I know it’s a sensitive subject.”

“I don’t blame them,” Adrien said brusquely, stamping down a flash of irritation at Nino’s attempted delicacy. “They saved Paris. Hawkmoth needed to be defeated.”

Nino kicked at an empty water bottle. “Yeah, but you didn’t deserve any of what came after.”

Adrien shrugged. The public backlash against him after his father’s unmasking had only been one of the factors contributing to his self-imposed exile, but Nino didn’t know that. “Maybe not,” he agreed, “but Hawkmoth is gone and that’s what matters most.”

Alya spotted them immediately as they entered the cafe, bouncing to her feet.

“Hey hey, look who it is! Welcome back sunshine,” she greeted, wrapping Adrien in a hug that was only slightly less of a death grip than Nino's.

Nino huffed. “Hey, where’s my greeting?” Adrien practically felt Alya roll her eyes as she released him and pressed a kiss to Nino’s cheek.

“Hi babe.”

Nino grinned. “That’s more like it.” He looked around. “Where’s Mari?”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “Damn Nino, you get your kiss and you’re already looking for another girl?”

“You know me babe.” Nino stuck his tongue out. “Can’t tie me down.”

Alya grinned wolfishly. “I’m pretty sure I could- and I’m pretty sure you’d like it.”

Adrien groaned and tucked himself into the booth, sliding his bag under the table. Instinctively, he covered his face with a menu. A year on, getting recognised didn’t quite carry quite the same risk as it had immediately following his father’s arrest, but, as the saying went: better safe than sorry.

Alya glanced at her phone and sighed. “That girl, I swear she’s getting worse.”

“I thought you told her we were meeting half an hour earlier?”

“I did.” Alya set herself down and Nino slid into the booth beside her. “But you know Mari. When she’s focused on something, she’s completely unreachable.”

“Ah.” Nino nodded understandingly. “Is she still working on that project?”

“Yep.” Alya popped the P and grabbed her own menu.

“Project?” Adrien leaned forward. News of Gabriel Agreste’s villainous trappings had hit her almost as hard as it had hit Adrien himself, and they’d drifted apart, much to his dismay.

“Yeah,” Nino said. “She’s been working on it for ages now, but won’t tell us anything about it.” He frowned. “Actually, there’s a lot she doesn’t tell us now.”

Alya patted his arm. “She’s gone through a lot. I think she just needs some time.”

Adrien glanced at her curiously. “Is she okay? Did something happen?”

Alya shook her head. “It’s not really my place to give details, but she lost one of her close friends recently.”

There was a flash of red outside the window and Adrien caught a glimpse Ladybug rocketing over the rooftops. He pressed himself back into his seat and watched as she swung past. Only when she was out of sight did he breathe a sigh of relief.

“Oh.” Adrien swallowed, attention returning to the conversation at hand. “That’s awful.”

“I know.” Alya scowled. “If I ever get my hands on him…”

Adrien blinked in confusion. “On the… body?”

Alya’s confusion mirrored his own. Then, understanding dawned on her face. “Oh he’s not dead,” she corrected. “He vanished and left Paris.”

“Without saying anything,” Nino added. “Mari’s still real torn up about it.”

Alya’s gaze snapped to the door and she straightened up in her seat. “Speak of the devil. Look who’s finally here.”

“I’m here, I’m here!” Marinette squeaked as she threaded her way through the cafe. Adrien chuckled at her antics as she slid into the seat next to him, red-faced and panting as if she’d run the whole way from the bakery.

“Finally girl!” Alya shot her an exasperated look that was somewhat mitigated by the phantom smile lurking underneath. “I thought you’d forgotten about us.”

“I promise I hadn’t,” Marinette said. “I just got distracted and Ti- my alarm reminded me later than I thought.”

“Still working on that project?” Nino asked as he peered at the menu over Alya’s shoulder.

Marinette’s face twisted into a grimace. “Yeah. It’s been giving me trouble for a while now.”

“What’s it about?” Adrien asked.

Marinette jumped, only just seeming to notice him and immediately turned an even darker shade of red. “It’s just a design project I’ve been working on for a while,” she said.

“For university or your commissions?”

Marinette seemed to falter briefly. “Commissions,” she said, “but that’s enough about me. How are you doing? How’s life in Normandy? Have you moved out of that apartment over the cheese shop yet?”

“Good, good and no,” Adrien said, checking the questions off on his fingers.

Marinette wrinkled her nose. “Do you still have those god-awful rugs?”

“There is nothing wrong with those rugs thank you very much,” Adrien protested. “They’re fluffy and nice to lie on.”

“They clash with everything else in your apartment,” Marinette deadpanned. “Actually, everything clashes with everything else in your apartment.”

Alya nodded. “I’ve seen the photos. My mother has seen the photos and we’ve never seen such a deplorable mix of aesthetics.”

“Hey, lay off the guy,” Nino said, rushing to his defence. “He spent how long living in a sterile, white box? It makes sense he’d want to experiment.”

Nino turned to face Adrien, looking him dead in the eyes. “But seriously dude, please finish those experiments soon. For the sake of anyone you video call at least.”

Adrien huffed. “Et tu Nino?”

Nino held his hands up helplessly. “It’s pretty bad my man.”

“Fine,” Adrien grumbled. “I’ll use some of my hard-earned savings to fix up the appearance of my home.”

Alya heaved a dramatic sigh of relief. “Oh thank god. If I have to sit through another one of Marinette’s rants about your décor choices I’m going to explode.”

“Alya!” Marinette squawked.

“It happens every time you send us a photo or we video chat,” Alya continued, either entirely oblivious or intentionally ignoring the way her friend started sinking into her chair. “As soon as we see too much of your place she gets this look like she’s preventing herself from racing up to Normandy to redecorate the whole apartment.”

Adrien laughed. “I might have to take her up on that offer at some point. Abelard keeps asking when I’ll invite you guys up.”

“Holidays are soon,” Alya said. “We can make a trip of it, spend a few days up in Normandy.”

“It’ll save me having to visit Paris,” Adrien said, nodding.

Nino winced and Alya’s face fell. “Still not planning on coming back?”

Adrien shook his head. “Sorry guys. I know you wanted me here with you but I…” he sighed. “I need a change of scenery. There’s too much… stuff-” he waved his arm, “here.”

A hand closed over his own and he glanced over to find Marinette staring up at him. “It was a lot for you,” she said. “We understand, even if we miss you.”

Adrien chuckled humorlessly. “That’s certainly one way of putting it.”

Adrien fumbled with the keys to the apartment, bracing the paper bag of pastries against his hip. After a moment he managed to find the right one and the apartment door clicked open. He flicked the lights on and wrinkled his nose. A thin layer of dust lay over everything.

The door swung shut behind him.

“Finally!” Plagg flew from his pocket. “I want my cheesy bread now Adrien!”

Adrien placed the bag on the table and sighed as it sent up a puff of dust. “I suppose this is what I get for leaving it for three months.”

“Just hire a cleaner,” Plagg said, mouth full of cheese bread.

“I’m not rich anymore,” Adrien replied, rummaging through the kitchen drawer. He pulled out a clean cloth and got to work wiping down everything he could. Plagg watched him curiously.

“We’re only here for one night,” he drawled. “Why bother putting in the effort?”

Adrien rinsed the cloth off and it released less dust than he’d anticipated. “It’ll just get worse if I leave it.” He ran the cloth over a shelf. An old picture frame clattered to the ground and Adrien muttered a curse.

He picked it up and turned it over. His father’s face beamed back at him, smiling wider than Adrien had ever seen. Tucked under his chin and clearly standing on her toes to stay in the picture, was Adrien’s mother.

His breath caught in his throat. The scene was so unlike anything he knew his father to be, so casual that it hurt. It was an image of what could have been, of the happy family he could have had.

The family he might have had if his mother had lived, if his family had never come across the miraculous. A tear splashed against the glass. The smell of cheese filled his nose as Plagg settled into his hair, purring comfortingly. Adrien reached up with a shaky hand and scratched his kwami on the head gratefully.

Adrien went to set the photo down and noticed a long crack in the plastic backing. He sighed and wiped his eyes dry. “Plagg, can you check the drawers for some tape?”

Plagg didn’t leave his hair. “You gonna be okay kid?”

Adrien smiled in spite of himself. “Yeah. I’m gonna look in the study to see if there’s any there.”

Plagg hummed. “Alright.”

The study was dark and full of dust. Due to Adrien’s infrequent use of the apartment, he’d barely set foot in this room.

He flicked on the light and opened the desk drawer. No tape. Grumbling to himself, Adrien opened the cupboard beside it and found himself face-to-face with a black metal box.

He tilted his head in surprise.

“What’s a safe doing in here?”

He gave it an experimental wiggle and found it quite firmly bolted to the wall behind the cupboard. The safe itself was fairly small, with a six digit combination.

Adrien frowned, overtaken by curiosity. He rubbed his chin for a moment, then punched in his birth date. The safe remained closed. He tried his mother’s birthday, then his father’s, then the date of their marriage. The safe refused to open.

“Did you find the tape?” Plagg floated into the study and found Adrien crouched over the safe, scowling.

“You want to cataclysm it open?”

“No.” Adrien shook his head. “I’d rather leave that as a last resort.” He stood. “I’m sure I’ll find the combination around somewhere. It’s probably empty anyway, since Father moved everything into the mansion when it was finished.”

Plagg shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Adrien spied a roll of tape on a lower shelf and grabbed it. “The most that would be in it are old photos. Father doesn’t- didn’t like to leave anything important outside his control.”

They made their way back to the kitchen and Adrien repaired the damaged frame, setting it back on the shelf.

“There,” he said, “Good as new.”

His words echoed off the empty walls and Adrien sighed, sagging against the kitchen bench. Plagg watched with concerned eyes.

“You okay kid?”

“This is the reason I don’t come to Paris much anymore,” Adrien said.

“The reason aside from Ladybug potentially discovering your identity and hunting you down?”

“That is a pretty compelling reason,” Adrien chuckled, “but yes.”

Plagg tossed a slice of Blue Cheese into the air and caught it in his mouth. “Care to share with the rest of the class?” he mumbled around his meal.

“It doesn’t feel like home anymore,” Adrien said softly, staring at the photo of his mother and father. Their smiles were wider and brighter than any he’d ever seen while they were alive.

Gabriel had refused to speak to Adrien ever since he’d made the decision to take his mother off life support. It didn’t matter that there was no way for her to recover, or that Ladybug herself could not sense a soul in her body. All that mattered was that Adrien had refused to continue in his father’s footsteps; in his quest to return Emilie Agreste to life.

“We don’t have to stay here,” Plagg reminded him. “If you’re really not up to staring at your dad while he ignores your for fifteen minutes, we can just head back to Rouen.”

Adrien bit his lip as he mulled it over. Outside of visiting his father, there was very little reason to stick around. A sudden restlessness descended upon him and he was filled with the urge to move.

Quickly, he pulled out his phone and purchased the ticket. He glanced up at the clock on the wall.

“Pack your stuff Plagg,” he said. “We’re leaving in fifteen.”

Chapter Text

Adrien stepped off the train and into the cool night air. The fresh breeze hit his lungs and suddenly he could breathe again. The oppressive weight that always sunk into his bones whenever he visited Paris lifted, as though an enormous hand had reached down and plucked it from his shoulders.

He sucked in another lungful of air and stepped onto the street- only to jump back with a yelp as a fire engine roared past with its sirens wailing. He glanced down the street as it disappeared around a bend. Indulging his curiosity and ignoring his better judgement, he followed.

He didn’t have to go far.

Two blocks down, a townhouse was engulfed in flames. Adrien gasped as he stared into the swirling inferno. The roar of the flames was deafening to his sharpened hearing and even from his spot on the street he could feel the heat from the flames. The wind changed direction and he was immediately assaulted by the choking odour of smoke and charcoal.

It was foul and harsh and almost drove him to his knees.

A dozen firemen clamoured around the base of the building, blasting it with jets of water that seemed to evaporate before they made contact. The only place the flames hadn’t scorched was the top floor, and even that wouldn’t remain untouched for long.

Adrien stood frozen as three years of fighting flashed through his mind. Three years of rescuing people from disasters caused by akuma. Three years of jumping into every catastrophe he saw without a second of thought. His lips moved on their own, almost mouthing the words before he caught himself.

Chat Noir was gone, vanished to give Plagg his freedom. And even if he weren’t, this was a normal fire, not an akuma. The firefighters were already here. They would be able to control the blaze. What could Chat Noir even do?

Adrien closed his eyes and forced himself to turn away. His feet resisted, three years of instinct clamouring for him to turn back around and find some way to help.

One foot in front of the other. Back to the fromagerie, back to his new, normal life.

“Someone help…please…”

It was barely a whisper. Faint, almost completely drowned out by the sound of the flames. To Adrien, the words may as well have been shouted in his ear.

Chat Noir threw himself into the closest alley, the words spilling from his lips. Green lightning crackled. Black leather unfurled over his skin. His hearing magnified until he could hear every piece of wood crackling in the heat. His sense of smell sharpened until he could almost taste the different materials consumed by the flames.

Chat Noir sprung, leaping three stories like it was nothing and smashing through a wall. The bricks yielded like drywall under his fist.

He found himself surrounded by rolling flames. The heat seared at his skin and smoke clogged his lungs. He darted from room to room, eyes watering and throat blistering in the relentless heat. A doorway had collapsed and Chat made a new one with a swift kick.

Two rooms later, he found them. A woman, huddled in the bathtub with a small child clutched to her chest. The fire was less intense here, kept back by the lack of flammable materials but it wasn't going to last long.

“Madame,” he croaked. The woman raised her head and stared at him in a shock that struck Chat just as hard.

“Please,” Caroline gasped, holding her daughter out for him to take. “Help her.”

Chat’s arms moved on their own, gently taking hold of Jane. A quick glance told him she was still breathing, and he pressed his baton to her mouth. The filter activated the moment it touched her lips.

Caroline made a weak shooing motion.

“Go,” she whispered.

Chat’s gaze hardened as his eyes flicked between her and Jane’s unconscious form. Without a second thought, he thrust Jane back into her mother’s arms.

“Hold on tight,” he commanded.

As soon as he saw her arms tighten around her daughter, he scooped them both into his own. With his magnified strength, they weighed almost nothing. The bathroom wall shattered in a single kick and then Chat Noir was clear, leaping from the flames and into the closest alley.

“Can you walk?”

Caroline nodded, clutching Jane to her chest and he set her down gently.

“There are paramedics just around the corner, Chat said urgently. “Go to them. Don’t tell anyone you saw me. Please.”

Caroline nodded wordlessly, clutching Jane to her chest. Chat reached out and gently pried his baton away, making sure Jane continued to breath. After a moment, he turned away, planning his route home.

A hand grasped at his wrist and he turned back to meet Caroline’s eyes, burning with such intensity it made the inferno they’d just escaped seem tame.

“Thank you,” she said hoarsely. Then she let go, stumbling off toward where the paramedics were stationed.

Chat breathed a sigh of relief as he heard them shouting as they spotted her. A powerful jump propelled him onto a nearby roof. With one last glance at the flaming building, he turned and leapt toward home.

Chat Noir landed in the dimly lit alley behind the fromagerie. Green lightning washed over him and Adrien Agreste collapsed against the wall, fishing his keys from his pocket. Plagg spun around his head in dizzying circles.

“Three hundred and sixty-seven days between transformations. I suppose my break had to come to an end at some point,” he said, the grin on his little face betraying his true feelings.

Adrien watched his kwami dash around excitedly. Despite the nerves churning his his gut at the thought of being discovered, he couldn’t help but feel…alive. Power coursed through his fingers and lightning crackled in his veins. Colours appeared more vibrant and the air tasted sweeter.

More than anything, Adrien wanted to do it again. To speak the words and race across the rooftops and feel the wind in his hair.

He didn’t sleep a wink that night.

Marinette was eating dinner when the notification popped up on her phone.

The minute she saw it, her spoon slipped from her fingers and into the bowl with a splash. She paid it no mind. Not a bit, not the mess on the table, or the burning liquid on her lap.

Because on her screen was a short, grainy video of a very familiar figure in a very black suit leaping from a burning building, a woman clutched in his arms.

The video was titled: Chat Noir Returns?

The question mark was unnecessary. Marinette was more sure than she’d ever been about anything. It was him. Chat Noir, in all his dark glory, finally reappearing after one long year.

She watched as he set the woman down, shaggy blond hair falling across his face. A mix of different emotions panged through her at the sight. Relief that he was alive. Hurt that he hadn’t tried to contact her even once since he’d disappeared. Anger at his disappearance. Betrayal at his desertion.

The video looped and her eyes never left Chat.

Relief.

Hurt.

Anger.

Betrayal.

The video looped again.

Relief. Hurt. Anger, Betrayal.

Relief, hurt, anger, betrayal.

Relief-hurt-anger-betrayal.

A message from Alya dinged at the top of her screen.

Marinette’s finger brushed against it. The video was replaced by her chat log and then the hold Chat Noir’s visage had over her was broken.

Alya: Girl have you seen the news?

Marinette’s fingers flew across the screen as she typed out her response.

Marinette: Yeah I just saw the video.

Alya: Are you okay?

Marinette: I’m fine.

Alya: I know him leaving was painful for you

Alya: If you need someone to talk to I'm here

Marinette: I’m fine Alya.

Marinette: Any idea where this video was taken?

Alya: Lemme check

Alya: Looks like Normandy, Rouen methinks

Alya: The sly cats been hiding under our noses the whole time

Marinette sighed. A part of her wanted to forget this, leave Chat Noir to his own business and get on with her life knowing he was alive.

But she wasn’t just Marinette. She was Ladybug, guardian of the miracle box and all its miraculous; including the Black Cat. And with Hawkmoth gone, the miraculous needed to go back into hiding, the sooner the better.

She fired off one last message to Alya and turned her attention to the mess her dinner had become.

Marinette: Can you come over tomorrow?

Marinette: I’m going to try and send him a message.

Adrien was already awake when his alarm sounded. His arm shot out of its own accord and silenced it before the second beep. He hurled himself out of bed and was showered and dressed in ten minutes.

Plagg eyed him curiously as Adrien paced across the flat.

“You okay there kid?”

Was he? Adrien flexed his fingers. “I think so? I have so much energy.” That was the understatement of the century. Adrien was wired.

Plagg let out a little guffaw. “Transforming after going so long without being Chat Noir will do that to you,” he said. “Especially since you didn’t get to work off all that excess energy last night either.”

His face split into a wide grin. “What you have kid, is what humans affectionately refer to as the zoomies.”

Adrien groaned, mildly distressed that every instinct he had was urging him to launch himself out the window and go for a long run all the way down to the coast. “Is it going to last long?”

“Until you work it off,” Plagg said, voice filled with amusement.

“Damn it Plagg,” Adrien scowled. He dropped to the floor and repped fifty push-ups without taking a break. It did nothing to ease the surging energy in his veins. “How much exercise do I need to do to work this off?”

“A long run should sort this out,” Plagg replied, still smirking. “I recommend doing it untransformed. It’ll be muuuch easier to exhaust you if you’re not super-powered.

Adrien growled and threw a hoodie over his top, Plagg settling into the front pocket. He took the stairs three at a time on the way down and left through the back door.

The morning air was crisp in his nostrils and he broke into a run instantly. The direction didn’t matter, how long he was going for didn’t matter, all he cared about was getting his body moving.

He left the alley and turned onto a main street. The sensation of his shoes drumming against the pavement was soothing and he pushed himself faster, just shy of a sprint. He crossed a street and kept going. There were few other people out at this hour, only the occasional morning runner complete with earbuds and water bottles.

He crossed a bridge in four strides and found himself in a park. The open space called to him and he broke into a sprint, crossing onto grass and then pavement again. Finally, he was moving again. A year of being cooped up inside with no outlet had been near torture, but he was free now. He could run as much as he wanted and-

Adrien blinked and found himself in the middle of a long, winding road. On either side were wide grassy fields dotted with the occasional tree here and there.

“What?”

He turned around and did a double take. The city of Rouen lay in the distance, just visible from the hill he was standing on. Adrien rubbed his eyes.

“Plagg,” he growled, “what the hell is this?”

“In all fairness,” his kwami snipped from his pocket, “I did try to get you to snap out of it when you left the city. I guess you really needed the exercise though.”

Adrien groaned and put his face in his hands. “This isn’t going to be a regular thing is it?”

“Not unless you go another year without transforming. I gotta admit, I’m impressed with how far you got before wearing out.” Plagg peered out of his pocket and at the city in the distance. “Most people don’t go from no exercise to almost sprinting a half-marathon like that.”

Adrien sighed. At least the restless, thrumming energy was gone now, calmed to a gentle pulsing. He raised his arms over his head and stretched, enjoying the way his muscles warmed in relief.

“I am so glad I have the day off,” he muttered and began the long trek back towards the city.

By the time he made it back to Rouen proper, the sun was high in the sky and the back of his neck was slippery with sweat.

“Do not let me do that again,” he grumbled to Plagg. His kwami snickered quietly from his spot in Adrien’s pocket.

“Don’t go so long without transforming and it won’t be a problem.”

“Hey, I’m trying to keep us from getting discovered here,” Adrien said.

“There’s nothing stopping you transforming at home.”

“Nothing except that Ladybug can track me when I’m transformed.”

“You know that’s optional right?” Plagg’s voice was incredulous.

“What do you mean optional?” Adrien snapped.

“I mean,” Plagg drawled, “That you can turn that option off.” He paused and let the silence hang. “Otherwise finding Hawkmoth would have been a cinch.”

“Oh.” Adrien had no real response to that, suddenly feeling rather silly. He spied a convenience store across the street and ducked inside, grabbing an energy drink and, at Plagg’s insistent tapping, a ham and cheese sandwich. He made his way to the counter to pay, eyes briefly flicking to the TV in the corner of the store.

The headline at the bottom of the screen made his blood run cold.

CHAT NOIR RETURNS

The screen showed a looping video of grainy footage of last night’s fire. By the angle, it had been taken from one of the buildings nearby. Adrien watched as the camera panned to the flaming structure. All of a sudden, there was an explosion in one of the upper walls and a dark figure clearly carrying someone dropped into the alley below.

The camera followed his descent, watching as he set Caroline on her feet and turned to leave, accidentally facing the camera.

Adrien’s stomach dropped through his feet. There was no mistaking it. The blonde locks, black mask and bell were clearly visible.

Dimly, he realised that the shopkeeper was speaking to him. The air left his lungs and the drink and sandwich dropped to the ground.

The store seemed to close around him, the shelved crowding him in, trapping him.

Leave. He needed to leave.

Adrien bolted, slamming the door open and dashing onto the street. He ran until he reached the fromagerie, clattering through the door and clambering up the stairs. His apartment door barely survived as he burst through, throwing open his computer and typing his password with shaking hands.

There, on the front page of the Ladyblog was a new interview. Or more accurately, a message for him. From Ladybug. Breathing hard, he pressed play.

‘Chat Noir.’ Ladybug’s face addressed him through the screen, her bluebell eyes boring into his soul. ‘Before anything else, I’m glad you’re alive.’ She smiled fondly. ‘I couldn’t bear it if you’d gone and gotten yourself into trouble you couldn’t get out of. That being said.’ Her voice hardened and Adrien prepared for the stern talking-to he was about to receive. ‘Hawkmoth is gone. I understand you needed to leave, you needed space, but it’s time to come back. The miraculous are no longer necessary, and it’s time for us to return them. All the other heroes have returned theirs. We’re only waiting for you. Please.’ Ladybug’s voice softened. ‘Please come home kitty. I miss you.’ She took a step back from the camera, eyes downcast. ‘Or at least send me a message so I know you’re alright.’ The video ended.

And suddenly Adrien was sixteen again, wrapped in black leather staring into the eyes of his greatest enemy as he tore the butterfly miraculous from his chest. His vision was clouded by purple sparks and suddenly it was no longer Hawkmoth he held by the throat, but Gabriel, as he slowly choked the life from his father. He’d already known his identity of course, that was how they’d managed to find his lair and plan the ambush. But to see it with his own eyes conjured a storm of fury unlike any he’d ever felt, turning his blood to fire and his vision red. His claws had tightened around Gabriel’s neck as his father’s lips turned blue, obscured by the tears in Chat’s eyes.

It had taken the combined effort of Ladybug, Carapace and Minotaurox to keep him from killing the man and Chat’s instinctual release of cataclysm had crumbled every structure within a hundred meters of the Agreste mansion. The mansion itself had been reduced to atoms along with everything inside that wasn’t protected by a miraculous.

Adrien hung his head at the memory, shame seeping through him. It had been the only time he’d ever lost control. He remembered the look on Ladybug’s face as the storm of black swirled around him, eroding everything it touched and his father crumbled to dust. The fear in her eyes was burned into his memory.

They’d met, late that night once the cure had been cast, Gabriel was in a holding cell and the other wielders had returned home. He remembered that night like it was yesterday, as they stood silently on the rooftop their patrols had always started on. Three years of fighting and a victory later, and Chat wasn’t ready for this moment. Neither was Ladybug, if the nervous way stood, arms held tight against her body, was anything to go by.

‘So,’ Ladybug began. ‘We did it kitty.’ She looked out over the city, rocking back and forth on her heels.

Chat nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘We sure did.’

Ladybug turned, looking up at him shyly. ‘I guess it’s time we get to know each other properly now, isn’t it?’

Chat’s world had ended right there.

Under the mask, leather and puns, he was Adrien Agreste. Son of Gabriel Agreste. Son of the supervillain Hawkmoth. Tomorrow he would need to turn himself into the police and come up with alibis that would rule him out as an accomplice.

His mouth went dry. He’d been living with a supervillain for years. How would that look? If anyone discovered who he was, questions would be asked. Suspicion cast on Chat, theories that he was a spy. And Ladybug. How would she react? Knowing that if he was a better hero, he could have won this war for them ages ago. Saved her from the years of suffering they endured. He couldn’t bear that. To look upon her beautiful face and see nothing but disdain in her eyes.

Chat staggered backwards, dimly aware that Ladybug was still talking.

‘-and then we can go on real dates, I can introduce you to my parents! You’d love them and I know they’d love you.’

Chat’s heart split apart in his chest. Whatever life Ladybug was picturing for them after they revealed themselves would never come to pass. Any life the girl under Ladybug’s mask had with Adrien would be fraught with suspicion and hardship as Paris turned against it’s former golden boy. As prosecutors fought to taint him with the same brush his father was painted with. As his friends turned against him.

Ladybug was still talking, waving her arms nervously in that way she did when she was babbling. ‘I’m really going to miss Tikki, and I’m sure you’ll miss Plagg. How about we give it a month before we return them to the miracle box? That gives us plenty of time to say goodbye.’

Whatever had been left of Adrien Agreste at that moment had shattered like glass.

‘My…Lady?’ he croaked, suddenly lightheaded.

‘Chat?’ Ladybug’s face was suddenly close to his as she eyed him with concern. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Do I have to leave Plagg?’

Ladybug nodded firmly. ‘It’s for the best I think.’ She turned and waved her hand at the city before them. ‘The miraculous have been in play for three years now. They need to disappear and fade into legend again or we risk another Hawkmoth. I’m sorry kitty, but we have to return them to the miracle box.’

Chat Noir was gone before she turned back.

Chapter Text

Adrien stared at the screen. Ladybug’s eyes bored into him as if she could see through the screen and into his soul. He was, to put it frankly, quite fucked.

“Adrien!” There was a sharp and sudden pain in his ear and Adrien swatted at it on instinct. Plagg phased through his hand, completely unfazed and Adrien stared up at him in shock.

“Did you just bite me?”

Plagg floated in front of him, arms folded. “You weren’t listening to me kid.”

“Listening? I don’t have time to listen, we have to get out of here!” Adrien’s mind raced as he considered his options. He had just enough money saved to survive for a month. If he made it to London, maybe Felix would let him stay-

“Kid.”

Plagg’s voice was tired. The tiny god stared down at him, expression unreadable.

“Breathe.”

Adrien did as he was told and Plagg nodded approvingly.

“Nice work kid, now let's sort this out rationally.”

Adrien almost laughed. It was a rare sight for his kwami to think of anything rationally. “I could probably stay with Felix for a month or so,” he offered.

Plagg’s nose wrinkled. “Let’s save running for Plan Z,” he said. “You’ve built a good thing here, and there’s no reason to abandon it just yet.”

“No reason? None at all?”

Plagg shot him a pointed look and Adrien took another deep breath. “Ladybug knows we’re here. She’ll be combing through Rouen with a fine tooth comb to find us. We can’t hide forever.”

“Why not?” Plagg gestured around him. “You’ve been pretty successful so far.”

“That was when Ladybug thought we were still in Paris,” Adrien argued. His shoulders slumped “I’ve given her a great big target for her to hit with her yoyo. I messed up.”

“So what, you shouldn’t have saved Caroline and her daughter yesterday?”

“Exactly! I shouldn’t have transformed. I should have protected my secret identity!” Adrien exclaimed, then scowled furiously. “Wait, no- ugh!” He threw himself onto the couch with a growl.

Plagg drifted down to rest on the coffee table. “Being a hero- a real hero is never easy,” he said. “But I think you made the right choice.”

“So do I,” Adrien said tiredly. “I just wish I’d done a better job at staying hidden.”

“Eh, details.” Plagg waved his arm dismissively. “You’re forgetting, Ladybug has her own life to deal with. She might not even come after us at all.”

“I get that you’re trying to help, but that’s too much of a stretch.”

“Yeah, I pushed that a bit far.” Plagg flew up and tapped Adrien on the nose. “But I’m not wrong about the first part. Ladybug can’t be searching for us every hour of every day.”

“No,” Adrien agreed, “But she can send the other holders. As guardian, she’s got access to the whole miracle box.”

Plagg rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “All of them except Bunnyx,” he said.

Adrien frowned. “How can you be so sure?” he asked, earning a snort from Plagg.

“If Ladybug had convinced Bunnyx to help, we would never have even made it this far,” he said. “And if she hasn’t stepped in before things go off the rails, it’s likely she won’t interfere at all.”

"Off the rails?"

"Don't worry about it," Plagg said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Time travel stuff."

“Right,” Adrien muttered. “Time travel.” He leaned back into the cushions. “So what do we do about the army of miraculous wielders that might show up here?”

Plagg held up a paw crackling with dark energy. “We could cataclysm them?”

“Plagg!”

“Right, jeez kid. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Adrien rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Not sure how suggesting the outright murder of my friends was meant to lighten the mood, but I appreciate the effort.”

Plagg shrugged. “I’m still not sure what you’re worrying so much over,” he said. “As long as you don’t transform in the open and keep me hidden, we’re golden.”

In spite of the cold fear in his gut, Adrien slowly found himself agreeing with his kwami. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before. Only this time, instead of hiding from Hawkmoth, he was hiding from Ladybug.

There hadn’t been a hint of Chat Noir in the year since his disappearance and despite his status as a celebrity, most people simply accepted that he’d vanished into the night once his work was done.

In some ways, it made him more popular than Ladybug, at least among the more passionate fans. Ladybug was still around, still patrolling and still fighting crime on the odd occasion. Chat Noir was gone. Adrien had read more than a few conspiracies about him, ranging from him being a spirit who had come back to defeat Hawkmoth and achieved eternal rest after his defeat, to ones suggesting that he’d never existed to begin with and Chat Noir was just a collective hallucination.

Adrien sighed. “So what, we carry on as normal?’

“We carry on as normal,” Plagg confirmed.

Three days passed while Adrien waited with bated breath. Three days of watching every rooftop, three days of constantly looking over his shoulder and three days of keeping the windows drawn for fear of someone spotting Plagg. Adrien could practically feel himself wearing thin. Sooner or later, something was going to give.

And of course, something did.

True to form however, it came in the unexpected form of Abelard, who’s concerned sidelong glances had been growing increasingly more concerned and increasingly more sidelong as time passed.

“You are stressing,” Abelard said one evening while they were cleaning the shop, as though it were a fact of life plain for everyone to see, and not something that Adrien was desperately trying to conceal.

“Stressing?” Adrien’s fingers slipped and the broom clattered to the floor.

“I’m not stressing,” he lied, bending down to retrieve the broom.

Abelard shot him the latest concerned glance in a long line of similar concerned glances. “Adrien, I love you, but...you are not very good at lying.”

Adrien snorted at the assertion. Sure he was. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily a skill to be proud of, but one doesn’t successfully pull off having a double life as a superhero while being the son of one Gabriel Agreste without being at least passable at lying.

Abelard let his own broom rest against the counter. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Boy did he ever.

“No thanks Abelard,” Adrien said glumly. That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? A secret identity was secret, and problems on one side of the mask stayed on that side.

Abelard nodded sagely. “Well, I cannot force you to talk, but when you’ve finished pouting, come find me. We will sit and drink wine and I will lend an ear to your problems.”

Adrien sighed and let his broom lean against the wall. Abelard was right. He was stressing, badly enough that it was affecting his job now. Sure he couldn't spill everything, but maybe there was a way to let out just enough that he wasn't being crushed.

“Have you ever parted with a friend on bad terms?” he asked, turning to face the older man.

Abelard raised an eyebrow at the question. “Hold that thought,” he said and waddled off into the store room. Adrien listened to him rummage around for a moment, the sounds punctuated by a couple of swear words.

He returned a moment later, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a pair of old glasses in the other, which he gently set on the bench. He popped the cork with a grunt and filled each glass to halfway.

“Cabernet Sauvignon,” he said, sniffing the bottle. “I’ve had it for ages and I am not entirely sure where I got it- so here’s to an adventure.”

He handed one of the glasses to Adrien and took a sip of his own, nose wrinkling it at the taste.

“Not what I hoped,” he said with disappointment, “but perhaps fitting for such an occasion.”

Adrien tipped his own glass back. The wine was sour on his tongue and strangely smokey.

“To answer your earlier question,” Abelard said, “yes.”

“Oh.” Adrien took another sip of his wine. “Did you ever make up with them?”

“Hm.” Abelard’s brow furrowed and he swirled the wine in his hand thoughtfully. “I suppose we made…peace, if you could call it that.” He looked up at Adrien. “But it was many years after we fell out. The passing of so many years made the reason for out fight seem…childish.”

Adrien cupped his glass with both hands. “What if it wasn’t something small?”

Abelard downed his wine and poured himself another glass. “This might not make a lot of sense to you now,” he said, “but most things seem a lot smaller after enough time passes, even if it feels like your whole world has ended right now. And if it’s truly something world-ending, then the best you can do is put one foot in front of the other and trust your heart and the people who care about you.”

“I see…” Adrien trailed off as he swirled his own wine pensively. “What would you have done if your friend found you early?”

Abelard pondered the question for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “Maybe we would have argued, perhaps fought even. Or we could have just made up sooner.” He shrugged. “Who can tell, really?”

“So just wait?” Adrien asked. “That’s the solution?”

“It is a solution,” Abelard corrected. “While it is true, the disagreement mattered less, by the time my friend and I saw each other again, there was very little to keep us together as friends. Time can be as damaging as it is healing, and maybe if we had come together sooner we would still be close.”

“Oh.” Adrien stared down at his hands, wrapped around the wine glass like he was holding Plagg.

Abelard downed the remains of his glass and shook his head. “I think that’s enough for me today.” He held out his hand and Adrien polished off his own drink and handed Abelard the glass.

“Whatever troubles you,” he said, “It isn’t something that can’t be solved with the people that care about you.”

“Thanks,” Adrien smiled weakly.

“If you want to thank me,” Abelard said, waving his hand at the shop. “You can finish up here while I go sleep off this wine.”

“You got it,” Adrien said with a little chuckle.

“Good.” The portly man made his way over to the staircase. “Tomorrow morning is going to be rough,” he muttered as he began the climb to his own apartment. Adrien smiled fondly and grabbed the broom.

“Pops is right you know.” Plagg’s nasally voice drifted up from Adrien’s pocket. “Nothing that’s happened has left you completely alone. Even after sending your rotten father to jail you still had me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Adrien said as he grabbed a fresh wheel of camembert and paid the money directly into the till. He let out a good-natured sigh. “Sometimes I can’t believe we made it out of that.”

“Whether you believe it or not,” Plagg snorted, grabbing the camembert from Adrien's fingers, “we did. And all we have to do to keep things going is keep our heads down until this all blows over. Trust me kid, in a few weeks it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

“I hope so,” Adrien said. “I-”

He was cut off by a loud buzz from his phone. Frowning, he took it from his pocket. There, on the screen, was a notification from the Ladyblog.

Ladybug Interviews Woman Saved by Chat Noir

“Fuck,” Adrien muttered and unlocked his phone.

Plagg darted up to Adrien's shoulder to watch the screen. “Three guesses as to what this is about,” he snipped and took a bite of cheese.

Adrien ignored him and hit play.

The camera shifted slightly as it was set down facing Caroline, just far back enough to fit Ladybug in the frame. They were seated around a small white table. Caroline leaned back comfortably on the couch, while Ladybug fidgeted with her yoyo and watched Rena Rouge (Adrien assumed the person behind the camera was Rena) finish setting up. Further behind them, Jane sat quietly and played with a pair of dolls.

“Camera’s good to go,” Rena Rouge said, voice coming from outside the frame.

Ladybug nodded and turned to face Caroline. “First of all," she said, "thank you for agreeing to this, and I’m so sorry for the tragedy you and your family have suffered.”

“Your kind words are appreciated Ladybug,” Caroline replied. “And I’m glad you agreed to my terms so readily.”

“This will go up on the Ladyblog as soon as we finish,” Ladybug promised. “I imagine it won’t be the only interview you’ll be asked to do though.” She chuckled. “I bet every news station in Paris will be clamouring for a chance to interview the first person to see Chat Noir in alive in over a year.”

Caroline nodded slowly, her sharp blue eyes narrowed. “I’m sure they would,” she said, “But you’re wrong. I haven’t seen Chat Noir at all.”

Silence reigned.

Adrien’s jaw dropped at the blatant, bold-faced lie.

What was she thinking?

On the screen, Ladybug mirrored his disbelief, clearly at a loss for words. The silence stretched out, nobody daring to speak after Caroline’s brazen declaration. The woman tilted her head back and Adrien swore he saw a smirk twitch at the corners of her lips.

Then it dawned on him.

She’s covering for me.

Despite having only met him once, this fantastic woman was willing to go against Ladybug in a battle that was already lost, just to keep her word. His heart warmed with affection for his friend.

Ladybug shifted uncomfortably in her seat, clearly unprepared for such an outright rejection. “Caroline-”

“Mrs Bourline, if you please.”

“-Mrs Bourline, everyone has seen the video.” Ladybug said, frowning. “And I of all people think I’d recognise Chat Noir when I see him.”

Caroline nodded, leaning back in her seat. “I’ve seen the video too. I know what it looks like. But let’s be honest, the video quality is poor and I’m the one who got a close up look at his face. It wasn’t him.”

“So you’re suggesting it was someone else who had his miraculous?” Ladybug’s voice sharpened in warning.

If Caroline realised her mistake, she didn’t show it. “Who said it was someone with a miraculous?” She asked haughtily.

Ladybug raised an eyebrow. “So what, a completely ordinary citizen kicked clean through the side of a house, jumped down three floors carrying you and your daughter in the middle of a fire and landed safely?”

Caroline shrugged. “I didn’t say that. I don’t know much about miraculous powers anyway. What I do know is that whomever saved me didn’t want to be found. And quite frankly,” she declared, “I think that hero is entitled to his privacy.”

Adrien heard Rena Rouge splutter from somewhere out of frame.

Ladybug rubbed her temples. “Mrs Bourline, I assure you,” she said emphatically. “If you saw Chat Noir, it is of vital importance that you tell me everything you can. The safety of Paris could depend on it.”

“The safety of Paris?” Caroline looked started. “Are you suggesting that Chat Noir would threaten our safety? The hero, Chat Noir?” Her gaze turned hard. “If he did show up last night, it was to save me and my daughter from a certain and painful death. That’s quite the opposite of a safety risk, don’t you think?”

Ladybug’s face remained neutral, but her hands clenched tightly. Adrien was sure her knuckles were white under the suit.

“The Black Cat miraculous is dangerous Miss Bourline,” she said slowly. “It needs to be returned to the miracle box.”

Miss Bourline stubbornly shook her head. “I’m sorry Ladybug, but I can’t help you. It wasn’t Chat Noir that saved me last night.”

The two women glared at each other, a silent battle of wills. Unbelievably, it was Ladybug who backed down.

The spotted heroine sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Alright Miss Bourline. Thank you for your time. Once again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“That’s quite alright Ladybug,” Miss Bourline said airily. “Both my life, and my greatest treasure-” she glanced over her shoulder to where her daughter was playing, “were miraculously spared.”

Ladybug didn’t answer her, spinning on her heel and marching out of the room.

The video ended there.

Back in Paris:

Ladybug landed lightly on the rooftop, Rena Rouge following close behind.

“Well,” she offered. “That was a disaster.”

Ladybug sighed. “Thank you for putting it so candidly,” she said, making her way to the edge of the roof and setting herself down. Rena Rouge watched her as she leaned back on her arms, kicking her legs back and forth in the evening breeze.

“I’ll say,” Vesperia chimed in as she landed, winding her spinning top around her waist. “What was her problem? You’re the Ladybug! Most people would die to help you.”

Ladybug shook her head. “Chat Noir was always the one people connected with,” she said, kicking her legs absently. “Sure, they looked up to me, but Chat Noir? He’s always been so…human.”

Rena Rouge snapped her fingers. “He’s relatable.”

“As relatable as a superhero can be,” Vesperia snorted.

“What can I say,” Rena Rouge said with a shrug. “He was a guy in love with a girl who didn’t love him back, then a loyal friend and a caring partner who took a lot of knocks for LB over there without letting it get him down. People admire that.”

Ladybug chuckled. “You know he’s actually the one that did most of the charity work? Yeah, I showed up and made speeches, but he was the one who reached out and organised things. He’s definitely spent far more time with the citizens than I did.”

She ran a finger over the edge of her yoyo. “He’s inspiring.”

Vesperia looked at her questioningly. “So are you.”

Ladybug shook her head and pushed herself to her feet, gazing out over the city. Her city. “It’s a different kind of inspiration.” She said, raising her arm and enjoying the feeling of the breeze on her magical-latex covered skin. “Like he’s running next to you and encouraging you along, rather than leading the way.”

“It inspires fierce loyalty in people,” Rena Rouge said with a nod. “The owners of that cat shelter he worked with a while ago still ask about him whenever they catch us. A lot of people still do. And not just conspiracy nut-jobs,” she said, glaring at Vesperia, who’s mouth shut with an audible snap. “Regular, ordinary people who want to know the hero who helped them out one time when he didn't have to is okay.”

“At least we know where he is now,” Vesperia said with a scowl. “The moment he shows himself we can jump him and grab his miraculous.”

“We’re not jumping him,” Ladybug said firmly, glaring at Vesperia. “We’re going to talk with him and encourage him to come back.”

“He’s been gone a year,” Vesperia pointed out. “That’s plenty of time to reason with him, and it’s not like you haven’t left him messages.” She kicked at a twig lying on the concrete roof. “Plus, you said it yourself. Having a rogue miraculous user is dangerous. Especially since it’s the black cat.”

“We’re not going to fight him,” Ladybug said, shaking her head. “And that’s final.” She glanced over to Rena Rouge, silently asking for support.

“I don’t know girl,” Rena Rouge said. “He hurt you pretty good when he ran. If I’m not going to punch him, I better be allowed to have some stern words with that boy.”

Ladybug groaned. “Not you too.” She folded her arms. “What happened to the whole “Chat Noir is a model hero who is beloved by the people” shtick you were saying just now?”

“I can admire his work as a hero and be mad about what he did to you at the same time,” Rena Rouge huffed.

“Uh huh.” Ladybug turned to face Vesperia. “Even if the two of you decided to, what -“jump him and grab his miraculous”, what do you think is going to happen?”

Vesperia cocked her head sideways. “Uh, we take his miraculous?”

“You think it’s going to be that easy? You’re going to attack Chat Noir, current holder of the miraculous of destruction, who has been a hero just as long as I have, and beat him in a straight fight? Accomplish something Hawkmoth himself couldn’t do?”

Vesperia scoffed. “Come on Ladybug, we all know he spent at least half of that time joking around and not taking it seriously. We don’t have to pretend that he’s on your level.”

“Actually,” Rena Rouge interjected, “Ladybug has a point. You weren’t there at the time, but when we took down Hawkmoth, the guy practically spent the entire time duking it out with the big moth himself. Alone. And on top of that, once he reclaimed the butterfly, he erased a whole city block trying to kill the man.” Rena Rouge frowned. “I honestly didn’t know he had it in him, and it’s not something I want to see again. Best case scenario if we fight, is that maybe we get the jump on him and maybe with the whole team we can catch him. Worst case, he stops holding back and dusts all of us and a sizeable chunk of the french countryside with us.”

“Fine,” Vesperia huffed, clearly outvoted and none too happy about it. “Diplomacy wins.” She paused. “For the record though, I don’t think this will work.”

Rena Rouge snorted. “Your opinion is noted.” She turned to Ladybug. “So? What is the plan?”

Ladybug rubbed her chin. The first step to any plan was to find out if Chat Noir was still in Rouen, and hadn’t left the country altogether. A thought occurred to her and she clapped her hands together.

“Alright,” she announced, “here’s the plan.”

Chapter Text

The following week, Ladybug made her move.

It happened mid-morning, as Adrien was returning from his workout (he’d be damned if he let himself be dragged into another half-marathon by Plagg’s powers). People were standing in the street and pointing up at the rooftops.

Adrien’s heart sank. He knew those looks. They were the same looks the people of Paris had sent he and Ladybug as they raced across the Parisian skyline. Only this time, instead of flashes of red and black, they saw green.

Carapace.

A pang of sadness lashed through his gut. It was his best friend’s first time in Rouen, and he was unknowingly here to hunt him down. Just a week ago they’d been floating the idea of coming to visit him.

Adrien so wished that things had turned out differently. That Nino was here to visit, to see his new apartment so Adrien could show him around, show him all the new skills he’d learned in the wake of his exile. He wasn’t a spoiled rich kid anymore, he had a life and he’d earned it. He could almost hear Nino and Abelard laughing together as they teased him about the same things they always did, cracking bad jokes that Adrien could laugh along to. The image in his mind was so vivid that Adrien almost cried.

But that dream would never come to pass. Not if he was caught here. So Adrien turned away from where his friend stood, surveying the streets and pushed his way through the crowd towards home.

He was a block away when he saw it.

At first, he thought it was a new holder. But never before had a holder looked so…excessive. Even Chloe, known for her pomp and dramatic flair had used a fairly subdued costume.

This was anything but subdued. A dark skinned man floated over the streets, an enormous satellite dish sticking out from a backpack and a tablet in his hand.

Akuma, Adrien realised.

Except that wasn’t possible. Hawkmoth was gone, locked away by Adrien’s own hand. This was a willing champion of the butterfly miraculous. Ladybug had placed another one of her pieces on the board.

With a start, Adrien realised what the dish was for. Of course Ladybug would remember Kwamibuster. The perfect method to flush a superhero out of hiding.

Though, he considered as he looked the champion over, this version didn’t look equipped for combat. And if the way Carapace stood on the buildings nearby supervising was anything to go by, his gut instinct was right. This champion was designed to detect only.

The only question was how sensitive it was.

As if to answer his question, the champion turned toward him.

“Shit.”

Adrien waited until he rounded a corner before he broke into a sprint, absolutely booking it. His options were limited. Leading Carapace and the champion back to the fromagerie was a nonstarter. Going directly away from his home was exactly what Ladybug expected him to do, and would only serve to assist her in locating him.

That left one option.

He pulled his hood up as he ran, cutting through an alley that ran parallel to the fromagerie. There was an older part of the city up ahead with little foot traffic. Adrien pushed himself, legs burning.

He passed under a bridge and uttered the words mid-stride. His transformation settled over his skin and Chat Noir burst forward with a surge of speed that could have put drag racers to shame.

The ache in his muscles was gone, replaced by humming energy. He took to the rooftops, catching sight of the champion a few blocks away.

Chat Noir landed in a crouch and stood with a lazy stretch. It was time for a game of cat-and-mouse. And so, for the next five hours, Chat Noir led Carapace and the Champion on a wild chase over the rooftops of Rouen.

In that time, a few things had become quite clear:

One: this new champion was very similar to Kwamibuster, except that instead of trapping Plagg, he could detect him. Which meant that as Chat Noir, he was undetectable.

Two: Carapace was definitely babysitting, unwilling to stray more than a hundred meters from the champion

Three: the range at which the champion could detect Plagg extended to, at most, two kilometres.

With nothing but those three rules, Chat Noir spent the better part of those five hours toeing the edge of the champion’s range, never allowing it within more than a kilometre of him and never fully disappearing from its (metaphorical) sight, always detransforming for a moment to let them catch onto his position. As he led the duo across the city, he watched through his enhanced vision as they tracked him. Neither of the bothered with stealth, opting to travel across the rooftops for maximum mobility.

A fair tactic, Chat thought, but it meant that he always knew how far away they were. By the time night fell, he was certain that they were trying to exhaust him. He was almost tempted to detransform, just to get Plagg’s opinion. Fighting them head-on wasn’t ideal. If he had a choice, he’d remove the champion without Carapace even knowing and slip off into the city.

Unfortunately, Carapace was as diligent as they came, never letting the champion out of his sight for more than a minute. A minute was definitely not enough time to close the distance and break the (akumatized?) object.

Which by this point, Chat Noir was fairly certain, was the tablet the champion’s eyes remained glued to. The answer was obvious. He needed to separate Carapace and the champion. The only issue was how. Chat watched the pair of them cross a street. Carapace’s head bobbed as he surveyed the street below, and Chat Noir had an idea.

For the first time since the champion had appeared, Chat Noir let them get close.

Chat Noir lay his ambush on a rooftop, hidden between a pair of chimneys and cloaked under the cover of darkness, briefly detransforming to ping his location to the champion. Soon enough, a pair of heavy boots landed on the building with a dull thunk.

“Chat Noir's last know location was this building,” the champion said, his voice silky and smooth. A light passed over his hiding spot and Chat held himself still as possible.

“Maybe he’s inside,” Carapace said after a moment. “I’ll check it out.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” The champion sounded concerned. “If he is inside, you are likely walking into a trap. The odds are-”

“I don’t care about the odds,” Carapace groused. “I know Chat Noir. If we don’t threaten him, he’ll at least hear us out. That machine of yours works right?”

“Chat Noir’s kwami was at these coordinates last,” the champion sniffed. “He may still be in the area.”

“Then I’m going in,” Carapace decided. “I just want to talk to him anyway. We’re under orders not to do anything that might scare him off.”

Carapace took a step off the building and Chat heard his boots thud onto the street below. He peered out of his hiding place. The champion was staring at his tablet, frowning.

He tapped the tablet again and his eyes widened at the silhouette in the reflection. He looked up-

-just in time for Chat’s cataclysm to turn the tablet to dust.

Max Kante fell to his knees on the rooftop. Chat Noir offered him a helping hand, which Max eyed suspiciously before accepting.

“Statistically,” Max said, “Your chances of escaping are extremely low. There are simply too many of us.”

“Hello to you too Pegasus,” Chat Noir said conversationally, taking the opportunity to act on a longtime hunch. “And as far as my chances go, I think they’re looking pretty good considering I’ve made it this far.”

“And this is as far as you’ll make it.” Vesperia’s cold voice cut through the night and Chat Noir turned to face her. She looked angry.

“I told them this wasn’t going to work,” she said, gesturing at Max. “They all think they can convince you to come back. That if they talk to you enough that you’ll see the error of your ways and turn yourself in.”

“And you don’t?”

“I don’t.” Vesperia said coldly, readied her spinning top. “I think you need to be brought in.”

“That’s not the mission,” Carapace said, clambering over the edge of the roof and glaring at Vesperia. “Hey Max. Evening Chat.”

“Evening,” Chat Noir replied, eyes not leaving Vesperia.

“Chat Noir has deduced that I’m Pegasus,’ Max said in a matter-of-fact voice, confirming Chat’s suspicions.

“Alright,” Carapace sighed. “I’ll handle it.” He turned to Chat Noir. “You sure we can’t convince you to come back on your own?” he asked. “I know you got your reasons for leaving, but it’s been a year now. Surely you’ve worked out everything you needed to by now.”

“I wish,” Chat Noir said, shrugging helplessly. “But the stuff I have to work out isn’t what happened to me. It is me.”

“And I get it,” Carapace said, hands raised placatingly. “But don’t you think that whatever it is, you’d be better trying to sort it out with us, rather than trying to sort it out while running from us?”

“It’s not the sort of problem any of you could fix, even with all the miraculous powers in the world,” Chat said. “Plagg and I just want to be left alone in peace.”

“Come on man,” Carapace pleaded and Adrien could hear Nino’s voice though the miraculous glamour so clearly it hurt. “The guardian wants all the miraculous back. We want our friend back. Come home. We'll go back to Paris, Rena will to yell at you for leaving, then we’ll hug each other, laugh and go home.”

Chat Noir considered it for a second. Really considered it. It was almost perfect. He wanted to say yes, more than anything. He wanted to tell his best friend the truth, meet his Lady properly and finally lay his exile to rest.

It was nothing more than a fantasy- too good to be true. Paris wasn't Adrien's home anymore, and it could never be again. Ladybug’s eyes as she watched Gabriel crumble to dust filled his vision. If Nino found out who he was, would his eyes hold the same fear? Would they even deign to allow him to see Plagg again; the only person who’d been on his side the whole time? Nino's offer was a beautiful fantasy, but a fantasy nonetheless.

“I’’m sorry,” Chat choked, the words physically hurting his throat as they passed through. “I’m sorry…I can’t.”

“Why?” Carapace demanded, frustration etched onto his features. “I know you dude, we fought together. You’re no Hawkmoth!”

Chat Noir visibly flinched at the comparison, as though the words had actually hurt him. “I just can’t,” he ground out through gritted teeth. He turned away. “I’m sorry Carapace.” He heard the zip of the string long before Vesperia’s spinning top wrapped itself around his wrist.

For a second, nobody said anything.

Then Carapace rounded on Vesperia.

“What part of don’t scare him off did you not get?!”

“He was going to leave,” she replied, yanking on the string.

Chat felt the tug at his arm and he raised it up to his face, examining the line incredulously. “I'm curious,” he said, a deadly calm settling over him. “What was the plan here?”

“The plan is to bring you in,” Vesperia snapped.

Carapace stepped in front of her, hands outstretched. “Chat, I’m sorry about her, but I promise we’re just here to talk.” He took a step forward and Chat took one back, pulling Vesperia with him like she weighed nothing.

“Don’t,” he snapped, voice raised in warning.

“Please, come back with us,” Carapace tried again. “The sooner you do, the easier it is for everyone.”

“You’re not going to stop,” Chat Noir said, shoulders slumping. “No matter how many times I ask to be left alone.”

“I’m sorry,” Carapace whispered, closing his eyes. “But I believe in Ladybug. And if she says that the best thing to do is let the miraculous be forgotten, then I’m going to help her do it.”

“Even if it means going against me.”

“Even if it means going against you.”

“Finally,” Vesperia groaned. “Let’s get on with this!”

Chat struck first, yanking Vesperia off her feet with a mighty heave and sending her careening across the city. The top slid from his wrist and he turned to meet Carapace’s charge head-on.

They clashed, hands gripped together in a contest of raw strength.

“You can’t win this!” Carapace grunted. Even after all his training and another growth spurt that left him towering over the other holders, Chat Noir still matched him strength for strength. “Everyone will be hunting you! The entire team!”

“Hunting me?” Chat Noir laughed and forced Carapace back. “I’m the black cat!” He twisted sideways and slung Carapace into a chimney which cracked at the impact. “I’m the hunter here!”

Carapace clambered shakily to his feet, pulling his shield off his back and sliding it over his arm. “You don’t look like it.”

Chat Noir took a step back and let the shadows melt over him. His footfalls were silent as he circled Carapace, who swung his head in wide arcs trying to locate him.

“You still think so?”

“Hey!”

Chat ducked instinctively and Vesperia’s kick sailed over his head. She landed next to Carapace, already spinning her top in a wide shield.

Chat Noir dropped into a lazy approximation of his fencing stance, not even bothering to draw his staff. “Come on then.”

Vesperia leapt at him, all instinct and enthusiasm with a wide kick that Chat Noir effortlessly ducked, taking a lazy step backward as Vesperia brought her leg down where he’d been standing with enough force to crack the concrete. She whipped around, top trailing behind her fast enough to split the air in a slash that would have hit Chat Noir dead in the neck had he not simply leaned back and watched it pass over his face.

“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that,” Chat said, placing his palm on the small of her back and sending her sprawling with a flick of his wrist.

“Quit picking on the newbie,” Carapace growled, banging his fist against his shield as he advanced.

“Are you-” Chat blocked another punch from Vesperia without even looking at her. “-trying to draw aggro with a taunt?”

“Fucking nerd,” Carapace grumbled and swung his shield at the black clad hero.

“Says the guy who knows exactly what I meant,” Chat laughed, flipping forward over the shield and handspringing off Carapace’s head.

Carapace whirled and jumped just in time to avoid a leg sweep. Vesperia was not so quick, slamming into the ground for the second time in half as many minutes.

Carapace closed in, keeping the shield between Chat Noir and Vesperia as they traded blows. Chat’s arm lashed out and caught him square in the shoulder. The impact shook him to his bones and Carapace retorted with an attempted grapple that somehow ended with him upside down. For a moment, he was thrown back to the first time he and Chat had sparred. The black cat was like smoke in the wind, barely solid until it was his turn to strike. Not much has changed, he though grimly.

“Come on Shelly,” Chat Noir laughed from somewhere behind him as he lay flat on his back. “You’re holding out on me!”

Carapace drew his knees up to his chest and kicked up and out, launching himself to his feet.

“Bravo!” Chat cheered, applauding as he weaved a series of strikes from Vesperia. “I know the miraculous makes it easy to do, but you make it look so good.”

“Stop fangirling over him and fight me!” Vesperia snarled.

Chat caught her next punch in his palm, turning his burning, nuclear green eyes on her.

“Okay.”

Vesperia wasn’t entirely sure what happened; the next few moments were little more than a blur. One second, she was glaring into Chat Noir’s bright green eyes, and the next she was on the ground, trussed up in the string of her own spinning top. She wriggled experimentally and realised, with dismay, that she was well and truly out of the fight.

“That was a little mean,” Carapace chided as he slung his shield at Chat Noir, who batted the green disk away with ease.

“She did ask for it. And goodness knows how many times Ladybug has tied me up. The newbie should get to experience that joy firsthand.”

“I don’t wanna know what you’re into dude,” Carapace said, lunging forward with a jab at Chat Noir’s head and grimacing as he hit nothing but air.

“Don’t talk like I haven’t head the kind of stuff you and Rena get up to,” Chat retorted, landing palm strike to Carapace’s ribs that he knew was going to bruise. “You know I have super hearing right?” Chat Noir shuddered and back-flipped into a handstand. “I used to leave in the opposite direction to you two so that I wouldn’t have to listen to the after-battle discussions you had.”

Carapace flushed and charged at him. “It didn’t happen all the time!” His fist caught Chat Noir on the leg and the feline hero moved with the impact, cartwheeling to his feet.

“Accidentally overhearing twice was enough for me, thank you very much,” Chat said, blocking Carapace’s haymaker and sweeping his legs out from under him.

“Do you guys really have to talk about this now?” Vesperia screeched from her spot under the chimney where she’d managed to roll herself away from the fight.

Carapace twisted midair and grabbed Chat’s leg.

Gotcha.

Chat Noir looked down at him, amusement written over his face.

Carapace paled.

The feline hero crouched briefly before leaping into the air, dragging Carapace along with him him. Then, with a mighty heave, Chat Noir raised his free leg and booted Carapace across the roof.

Carapace hit the concrete with a thud, rolling with the impact and sliding to his feet.

Ow.

“You know, if I really wanted to I could just take your miraculouses right here,’ Chat pointed out. “It would mean less people chasing me.”

“So why don’t you,” Vesperia growled, still struggling against her binds.

“Because, believe it or not,” Chat said, “I don’t actually want to fight. I just want to be left alone.”

His ears twitched, a familiar zipping noise carried in on the wind. “And in this case,” he said quickly. “I’m quite happy to leave after making my point.”

And with that, he melted into the night. Carapace watched him disappear and groaned. Ladybug and Rena Rouge were going to kill him.

When Ladybug made it to Carapace and Vesperia’s position, she wasn’t sure what she was going to see. She certainly wasn’t expecting to see Carapace, shield nowhere in sight struggling to untie a Vesperia so wrapped in her own weapon she resembled a cocoon.

“You tried to fight him, didn’t you,” she said, exasperation creeping into her voice.

“Blame fight club over here,” Carapace grouched. Vesperia groaned.

“It’s true. I got carried away. I’m sorry Ladybug.”

Ladybug rubbed the bridge of her nose as Rena Rouge walked over to help Carapace untie the blonde. “What on earth possessed you to do that? After I specifically told you not to?”

“He wasn’t listening to Carapace,” Vesperia said quietly. “We tried talking, but he was going to leave.”

“That doesn’t give you an excuse,” Ladybug snapped. “All you had to do was let Carapace talk him down and-”

“She’s right Ladybug,” Carapace said, his voice heavy. He slumped against the chimney, defeat written all over his face. “Chat Noir isn’t coming back. I don’t know what happened to him, or what he’s going through now, but he doesn’t trust us.” The turtle hero looked ready to cry.

The air stilled as the group fell into a glum silence.

Rena Rouge swallowed. “It might be time to consider the alternative,” she said softly.

“No,” Ladybug said immediately. “I’m sure we can reason with him. Find out what’s going on and help him.”

“It’s not going to happen,” Vesperia said, finally free. “He made it pretty clear he wants to be left alone and he’s willing to fight to keep his kwami.”

“Goddammit!” Ladybug stomped her foot on the ground, frustration taking hold of her. The situation was slipping further and further out of her control. First the botched interview, now this?

“That stupid cat!” she growled. “Why does he have to be so-, so-”

“Ugh!” Ladybug hurled her yoyo as hard as she could, string and all. Five sets of eyes watched it as her weapon (and transport) sailed into the air and across the city, disappearing into the black sky and falling somewhere far out of sight.

Ladybug flushed. “That was silly of me, wasn’t it?”

Rena Rouge patted her on the shoulder. “It’s been a long day.” She turned to Vesperia. “And we’ve all made our fair share of stupid mistakes. We’ll go back, rest up and tackle this Chat Noir situation tomorrow with fresh eyes.”

Ladybug looked at her friend, eyes shining with gratitude. “Thanks Rena. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d panic and meltdown every time something bigger than a minor inconvenience came up,” Rena snipped.

Ladybug sighed. “Probably. You reckon we can get Pegasus to portal us back home?”

“I would,” Max said, emerging from his hiding spot. “But as you see, I’m stuck here with you guys.”

“Fuck.”

Chapter Text

Chat Noir landed silently in an alley five blocks from the where he’d left Carapace and Vesperia. His transformation melted away in a flash of green as he sunk to his knees and stared dimly down at the pavement. Everything ached. Plagg floated above him, uncharacteristically silent as he watched his charge through concerned green eyes.

“They’re not going to let us go Plagg,” Adrien said tiredly, the strain of the days events plain on his face. “They’re not going to give up. They’ll keep chasing after us now.”

His kwami folded his arms and actually seemed to consider his words before speaking. “I know it looks bad kid, but we’re not out of options yet.”

“Not out of options?” Adrien’s gaze whipped up to face him, eyes suddenly sparking with intensity. “Not out of options? Maybe you didn’t see the same thing as I did out there. Maybe you didn’t see Ladybug choose a whole new holder for the butterfly to flush me out of hiding? Or my best friend declare that he’d chase me down like some wild animal because she wants my miraculous back? Or that new bee holder that wants my head so badly she behaves more like an attack dog than a hero!”

“Face it Plagg,” Adrien leaned back against the cold bricks. “I may as well just give up now.”

Plagg had tolerated a lot of Adrien’s whining. He had tolerated Adrien’s lovesick whining over Ladybug when they had started out together, had tolerated his angry whining over being kept in the dark and he had tolerated Adrien’s self-pitying whining as he’d started to scrape his life back together after the fallout of Hawkmoth. A little bit of whining from Adrien was basically a sign of good health. Defeatist whining however, was another story.

And that was how Adrien found himself face-to-face with a pair of bright, angry green eyes as Plagg actually hissed at him. “Give up?” his kwami practically spat at him. “Give up? You spend three years fighting a supervillain, who turned out to be your father, trying to bring your mother back to life and even with all the justification in the world to stop and give up, you keep fighting. Only to give up now? When your lady crush puts a little bit of pressure on you because she wants to complete her collection of magic jewellery?”

Adrien’s jaw dropped at the sheer ferocity in Plagg’s words and he opened his mouth to protest.

“She’s the guardian-”

“And I’m the flipping god of destruction kid,” Plagg shot back. “Which means I outrank her in terms of cosmic authority. And besides, the guardian’s job is to choose worthy wielders for the miraculous so they can help humanity, not sequester them away out of some sanctimonious self-prescribed moral obligation.” Plagg’s voice softened. “The world needs a Chat Noir, and you are definitely worthy of the mantle.”

The darkened alley fell silent as Adrien felt the words sink in. “Alright,” he muttered, looking down at his bare hands. “So what do I do now?”

“Well, panicking here down on the pavement isn’t going to solve anything,” Plagg said. “Get up, brush yourself off and let’s go home.”

Adrien wobbled to his feet and dusted off his pants, Plagg drifting down to rest in his hair. The fromagerie was only a fifteen minute walk away and they trudged the distance in silence.

Plagg didn’t speak to him again until they were inside. As soon as the front door swung closed, he pointed a little arm at the fridge. “Eat.” he commanded.

Adrien eyed the fridge apprehensively. His stomach had already managed to twist itself into a cornucopia of knots on the walk back, and adding food to the writhing mess did not sound appealing. “I’m not hungry Plagg.”

The kwami glared at him. “Eat.”

Adrien baulked at his kwami’s reprimand and obliged, nervously picking at a leftover plate of chicken and salad. The meal satisfied a hunger that he hadn’t known he was feeling and soon, the entire plate was gone.

Plagg nodded in approval. “Alright,” he said, after the plate was empty. “So things are a little more serious than we thought.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Adrien said. The aching of his body had faded somewhat, only to be replaced by a slight nausea that was probably a mixture of nerves and the speed at which he’d eaten. “So what do we do from here?”

There was that question again. His voice was so small, so uncertain that it hurt Plagg to hear. A years worth of recovery, of nights spent crying and bursts of anger, until his charge had finally reached a place he was stable. A whole year of healing, undone in an instant by the careless actions of an untrained guardian. Were Tikki within flying distance, he might have gone to giver her a piece of his mind.

Plagg repressed a sigh. He was being a little harsh on Ladybug. The fact of the matter was that she didn’t know any of this. All she knew was that Chat Noir was on the run and had practically stolen his miraculous. And as easily as he knew it would be to solve the issue if they did away with the secrets…

Plagg watched as Adrien sank back in his seat heavily and rubbed his face. His kid wasn’t ready, and if he wasn’t ready then forcing it on him would do more harm than good. Which meant that as far as Plagg was concerned, keeping Adrien happy and healthy meant staying with him and keeping him out of Ladybug’s reach. And if he got to enjoy the company of his kid for a while longer, well, who was he to complain?

Plagg floated back idly and weighed their options. With Nooroo back in play and under the direction of Ladybug, there were few ways he and Adrien could hide and remain in the same place. Plagg chewed his lip. At this point, the only way they were going to escape without directly taking Ladybug on was skipping the country.

The kwami of destruction growled. This...planning was not his forte. Maybe Tikki could have wrangled a solution from this mess that left everyone happy, but he certainly couldn’t. Plagg was destruction incarnate, the god of decay and chaos chained to the piece of silverware currently wrapped around the finger of the gentlest boy Plagg had ever had the pleasure of knowing.

He was well and truly out of his depth.

“I...don’t know,” Plagg admitted. The fear that crossed his kid’s face at his admission made him want to bite the words back.

“But,” he tried, “I’m sure we can come up with something together.” He held out his paw. “And,” he said, trying his best to smile lightly. “If nothing else there’s still the tried-and-true method of cataclysming our problems away.”

Adrien managed a laugh and Plagg considered that a success.

Adrien sighed heavily and all of a sudden it hit Plagg how different the boy looked. Sure, he was still the same in all the ways that mattered; he was still blond and pretty as far as humans went, but there was a weight hanging off him, a tiredness that clouded the air around him and a dullness behind his eyes. The enthusiastic fourteen year-old he’d met was gone and in his place stat a tired and dishevelled young man carrying far too much weight for someone of his age.

Four years. Plagg eyed his charge in silent sorrow. To an ageless being such as himself, one who had been around in some form or another since the very birth of the universe, four years was nothing. Barely a blip in the endless tide of his existence. But here, right now, Plagg felt the weight of those four years. He felt them keenly as he watched them cling to his boy like a shadow.

“Hey,” he said gently, floating down to nuzzle against the boy’s cheek. “We’ll figure something out. Remember our original plan? As soon as you’re eighteen and can afford it, Chat Noir goes global and we never have to worry about Ladybug or Paris ever again.”

“I remember,” Adrien said, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch.

“Good,” Plagg replied, settling into Adrien’s hair and starting to purr.

Neither of them moved for a long time.

“I’m sorry to dump this on you, but I have to leave for a while.”

“Leave?” Abelard’s thick eyebrow creased at Adrien’s sudden declaration. “Why?”

The pair of them were squished into the break room alongside a step-ladder, which Adrien was perched rather precariously atop as he attempted to unscrew the faulty light bulb. In terms of places to spring surprises...well, there were better options available.

Adrien shrugged halfheartedly from his position on the ladder, shaking it and sending a jolt of worry though Abelard’s chest. To his relief, the shaking barely seemed to bother the boy as he continued unscrewing the bulb. “I can’t really say,” he said, a rather morose expression plastered across his face. “But I didn’t want to just disappear on you.”

“Hm.” Abelard took the old bulb that Adrien held out and placed the replacement into his waiting hand. Without hesitating, Adrien stood up fully, seemingly at home on the wobbly implement. His fingers deftly pressed the bulb into the socket and he began screwing it in.

“Does this have to do with- ah, recent events?” Abelard asked.

Adrien bobbed his head in a noncommittal, so-so gesture. “More or less.”

“I see.”

Adrien finished screwing the bulb in. “You can test it now.”

Abelard flipped the light switch. The new bulb flickered on and the break room was bathed in a warm amber light that reflected softly off the exposed copper pipes. Abelard hummed in approval. “And here you were telling me to put in a fluorescent bulb.”

“They’re way more energy efficient,” Adrien said, hopping off the step-ladder and folding it away. “And brighter.”

“They’re uglier.” Abelard wrinkled his nose and made his way into the main shop. “If I wanted my shop to look like a modern convenience store, I would have swapped our wooden benches for those stainless steel ones years ago.”

“I suppose this does look nice,” Adrien admitted, following behind him.

“Nice?” Abelard snorted and spun, flinging out his arms and gesturing to the décor around them. “My shop does not look nice. It looks cosy and inviting, like the kind of shop you could duck into to get out of the rain and then spend hours in, perusing the cheeses and soaking in the atmosphere!”

“If we had more room, we could serve wine too,” Adrien suggested. “Turn it into somewhere people could eat as well.”

“I have considered it,” Abelard said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “But I would need to find the space, not to mention the staff.” He looked at Adrien pointedly. “I doubt that I could run such a place by myself, old as I am.”

“Yeah…” Adrien trailed off, that dejected look sliding over his face again. Abelard leaned back against the exposed brick wall and waited. And then waited some more. Adrien shuffled nervously and glanced from side-to-side, clearly trying to make up his mind about something.

“I’m Chat Noir,” he blurted.

Adrien wasn’t sure what he expected Abelard’s reaction to be, but it sure as hell wasn’t a simple nod.

“I know,” the man said, gazing at Adrien, a gentle sorrow in his soft brown eyes.

“Yo-you know?” Adrien spluttered. “How long have you known?” Plagg disentangled himself from Adrien’s hair and blinked owlishly at the store owner.

“The name’s Plagg,” he said slowly, and let out a long yawn. “You got some good cheese in this place.”

“I’m glad you like,” Abelard said with no small amount of pride. It wasn’t every day that you got the blessings of a superhero’s companion.

His piece said, the black kwami settled back down into Adrien’s hair. Abelard watched him go with some curiosity. He was quite impressed at how the small creature managed to make itself entirely invisible in the mop of blond locks, barring the occasional flash of green as Plagg continued to watch him from his hiding place.

“He’s going to have requests now that you know he exists,” Adrien said with a light smile. “That’s actually the least I’ve heard him talk about cheese whenever he brings it up.”

Abelard chuckled. “He sounds like a regular connoisseur.”

“He thinks he is,” Adrien snorted. “He mostly just eats camembert though.”

“A fine choice indeed,” Abelard said with an approving nod. “Especially when partnered with salami and water crackers. I myself am partial to the pepper-flavoured ones.”

“Oh god,” Adrien groaned, ignoring the muffled cry of delight from his kwami. “You two are going to be insufferable if you ever...see each other again.” He trailed off, then looked down at Abelard intently. “How long have you known?”

“Adrien, my boy,” Abelard said tiredly. “I’m honestly very surprised nobody has noticed you talking to the little fairy-”

“Kwami-”

“-kwami before. Or overheard your nightmares. I found out barely a month after I let you start working here- that time when you fell asleep in the back room.”

“Oh.” Adrien looked a little sheepish at the memory. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And send you into another panic? The events of last year were painful enough for you without me barging in and making a mess. I was quite content to wait until you were ready to tell me.”

“What if I didn’t?”

Abelard sighed. “Adrien, you are not a secretive person by nature. You are kind and honest, and lying takes a toll on a person like that. You would have told me eventually.”

Adrien folded his arms defensively. “I’m starting to think that the only reason my father never discovered that I was Chat Noir was because he was too busy being Hawkmoth to pay enough attention to his son and notice that something was wrong.”

Abelard grimaced. “No comment.”

“That’s pretty much the gist of it,” Plagg said airily from his position on Adrien’s head. “What,” he demanded, catching Abelard’s chastising stare. “I was there for all of it, I can comment!”

Abelard shrugged. “I suppose this means you’re going to have to settle business with Ladybug then?”

Plagg rolled his eyes and Adrien let out a heavy breath, suddenly appearing much smaller. “Yeah. We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms after my father’s imprisonment.”

“Does she know who you are?”

Adrien shook his head. “We were going to do the whole unmasking thing after we beat Hawkmoth- when it was safe.” He leaned against the counter and stared out though the fromagerie windows. “Then we found out that, surprise surprise, Hawkmoth was my dad and that...well, that changed things.”

“I imagine,” Abelard murmured.

“Just wait,” Adrien laughed hollowly. “It gets better. Just after I put my father behind bars, she takes me up to the top of the Eiffel Tower- the very top, not the main viewing platform and tells me that I have to return Plagg to the miracle box.” Adrien ran his fingers through his hair, careful to avoid disturbing Plagg. “Can you imagine that? I’ve condemned my father and the woman who practically raised me to a life in a jail cell. I did it because it was the right thing to do, because Paris needed justice for everyone they’d hurt. I sign away any chance I have for a normal life without hesitation, and Ladybug tries to take away the last person I could consider family for my troubles.”

“So you ran.”

“So I ran,” Adrien affirmed.

“And you’re still running,” Abelard said.

“It sure seems that way.”

“How long can you keep it up?”

Adrien glanced up at him sharply. “Excuse me?”

“How long can you keep running for?” Abelard asked, not unkindly. “Are you going to keep uprooting your life every time Ladybug comes close to catching you? That sounds like a terrible way to live.”

“Maybe, but I’d still have Plagg.”

The kwami nodded. “The kid and I are a package deal.”

Abelard sighed. “Then I wish you both luck- I hope you find a way to live the life you want.”

“Thanks Abelard,” Adrien said. “I-” he paused, searching for the right words. “I think that if I got to choose the life I wanted, this would have been it.”

Abelard smiled, his eyes suddenly a little wet. “With a little more crime fighting I suppose?”

“With a little more crime fighting.”

Abelard pulled Adrien into a massive hug. “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” he said. “And if by some chance you do find a way out of this mess, I want you to know you’ll have a place here to come back to.”

It was late afternoon when Adrien stopped outside the apartment building. His feet were sore and his muscles ached, but the heavy dread in his bones had faded into something softer and more manageable. Just one last thing to do, and then he and Plagg could leave.

He adjusted his duffel bag over his shoulder and pushed onward, crossing through the foyer and calling the elevator. A well-dressed man shot him an odd look as he walked past. The elevator dinged before he caught more than a cursory glance and Adrien shuffled into the metal box.

“Let’s see, what did Abelard say…” he murmured. “Seventh floor, right.” He pressed the appropriate button and the doors slid shut. A jaunty tune jingled from the elevator’s tinny speakers in a manner Adrien found almost soothing. A moment later, the doors opened with another ding and Adrien found himself in a neat hallway with dark blue carpet, punctuated by the occasional pot plant.

He came to a stop midway down the hall. “Looks like the right one.” Adrien raised his hand and rapped sharply on the door with a knuckle. There was the sound of movement and a faint “Coming!” from the other side. The door swung open to reveal Caroline, who looked almost as tired and dishevelled as Adrien felt. Her hair was undone and dark bags hung under her eyes.

“Oh, Adrien! It’s so good to see you.” Caroline’s face brightened. “Please, come in,” she exclaimed, ushering him inside before he had a chance to speak and rushing back into the kitchen where she had been in the middle of slicing vegetables. “So,” she asked, “what brings you here?”

“A couple of things,” Adrien replied, glancing around the apartment. “How are you doing Caroline?”

“I’m getting there,” she said. “Still settling in. My sister is letting me stay here in her holiday home while Harold and I sort out something more permanent.”

The knife hit the chopping board with a dull thunk and Caroline’s head whipped to face him. “You used my name!” She sprang over to him, grasping his cheeks. “You called me by my name!” Then her laughter faded and she looked him over, turning his head side-to-side as she inspected him.

“Adrien, you look terrible.”

“Uh, thanks?”

Caroline shot him a concerned look and let him go. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“That’s the second reason I’m here,” Adrien said, taking a deep breath. “I’m leaving Rouen, and I wanted to come and check up on you and Jane before I left.”

“Leaving?” Shock settled into her features. “Whatever for?”

Adrien grimaced. “It’s...complicated.”

Caroline watched him with a sad expression. “It always is, isn’t it? Does it have to do with that Chat Noir business that just happened?”

Adrien hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I moved here to escape superheroes,” he said. “But it looks like I didn’t move far enough.”

“You know they’re not bad people right?” Caroline said. “I know I denied it, but Chat Noir saved my life. They didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Adrien Agreste was just an unfortunate victim,” Adrien said sadly. “Yeah, I know. Hawkmoth had to go.” He shrugged. “But I think it’s best to put superheroes and the like behind me for the moment. I just wanted to come see how you two were doing before I left.”

“Oh my dear sweet boy.” Caroline swept him up into her arms. “We’re both fine, you’re so considerate.”

“And Jane, her lungs aren’t damaged from the smoke?”

“None the doctors could find,” Caroline assured him. Her eyes narrowed and she looked him up and down.

“So what, back to Paris for you?”

“Just for a bit,” Adrien sighed. “After that I’m not sure.”

“So you’re trying to escape the superhero chaos by...going back to the city they actively live in?”

“Something like that,” Adrien laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just need to talk to a couple of people there. Who knows then, maybe I’ll go live in London with my cousin.”

“The stuck-up, snobbish one?” Caroline asked, her eyebrow creasing.

Adrien laughed sheepishly. “That’s the one.”

“Adrien…” Caroline’s face twisted with worry. “Are you sure this is the right move? You’re not rich anymore and you’ve done a good job settling in here.”

“I’m not rich anymore until I’m eighteen,” Adrien said. “I still have my inheritance.” He leaned against the kitchen bench. “But honestly, I’m not sure. I do know I can’t stay here.”

“What did Abelard say?” Caroline asked. “The old man has a real soft spot for you.”

“I know. He made me promise to come to Clementine’s wedding,” Adrien replied. “Which there was already no way I was going to miss.”

“Good, good.” Caroline tossed the sliced vegetables into a pot. “And Clementine, what did she make of this business?”

“Called her yesterday,” Adrien said. “I think she gets it, but she did threaten to track down wherever I was staying and show up personally if I didn’t call her every week.”

Caroline sighed. “Don’t forget you have people who care about you here.” She glanced at the clock. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

Adrien shook his head. “I have a train to catch soon,” he said. “Thanks for the offer though.”

“I suppose that means you won’t be able to babysit for me anymore,” Caroline said with feigned dejection as she walked him to the door.

“I guess not,” Adrien said, turning back to face her. “I’m glad you and Jane are alright. I’ll see you around.”

“See you around Adrien,” Caroline said. “Safe travels. I hope you can get away from this superhero business, but they seem to be popping up everywhere these days. Who knows,” she said with a tired wink that had just a little of her usual pep. “Chat Noir might even pop up in London.”

The door swung closed before Adrien had a chance to reply. His stunned silence was broken by Plagg’s little cackle as he floated up from his hiding spot, and Adrien groaned.

“She knows, doesn’t she?”

“You might have been right kid,” Plagg laughed. “The only reason nobody caught you before was because nobody cared enough. As soon as people started actually paying attention to you, your ability to keep secrets went right out the window!”

“I should get Ladybug to give me lessons on lying,” Adrien grumbled and made his way towards the elevator. “I bet nobody’s figured out her identity.”

“Nah,” Plagg said. “Lying is overrated. You just gotta find the right people to trust, and since your dad got locked up you’ve become a much better judge of character.”

Adrien side eyed his kwami. “I feel like you’re trying to tell me something there.”

“Not at all,” Plagg said innocently as they entered the lift. “So, got any idea what we’re doing next, or are you just winging it?”

“I have a plan,” Adrien said defensively.

“Hiding in Paris until your eighteenth birthday and hoping you won’t be caught is not a plan.”

“I have half a plan,” Adrien corrected.

“Uh huh,” Plagg snorted and darted into Adrien’s pocket. “Well Mr half-a-plan, wake me up when you have a better idea of what we’re doing.

Adrien ignored him as they hit ground level and the elevator doors slid open. The sky was dark outside. “Alright,” he murmured. “Lets do this.”

Ladybug looked out over the eight assembled heroes, taking in the mix of hesitation and uncertainty on their faces as they stood atop the Grand Paris Hotel under the evening sky.

“Thank you all for coming here,” Ladybug said. She glanced sideways to Rena Rouge, who gave her a small nod. “I know a lot of you have questions about what’s happening with Chat Noir,” she continued, “and I’ve brought you here to clarify the situation.”

“Chat Noir has gone rogue.”

There was a collective gasp from the assembled heroes, followed by a mix of furious muttering.

“Uh, Ladybug,” Minotaurox stepped forward. “What do you mean he’s gone rogue? The only time he’s been seen since Hawkmoth’s defeat was saving that woman from the fire.”

“Yeah,” Purple Tigress chimed in, “That’s not exactly rogue behaviour.”

“I understand your confusion,” Ladybug said, “and that’s why I’m clearing things up. I’m sure most of you have noticed that since Hawkmoth’s defeat, there’s been no need to call upon you for hero work?”

There was a general nodding of heads.

“With Hawkmoth gone, the need for superheroes has gone with him. Magic is a tool and Hawkmoth was living proof that it’s best kept far away from most people.”

“Chat Noir isn’t most people though,” Purple Tigress said. “He’s like you, isn’t he?”

“I agree,” Ryuko said. “He has been an exemplary and trustworthy hero.”

“It’s not a matter of trustworthiness.” Ladybug said, eyes flicking to Rena Rouge and silently begging for support. “Chat Noir has been an exemplary black cat and exactly the partner that I needed to bring down Hawkmoth. That’s not the issue here.”

“Then what is the issue?”

“This issue is that the miraculous have been out in the open for far too long,” Rena Rouge explained, stepping forward. “Before Hawkmoth, magic was a myth, something that existed on the edges of public consciousness. Now that he’s been defeated, there’s no need for the miraculouses to stay active, and the longer they are, the more likely they are to to attract other people like Hawkmoth.”

Ryuko’s orange eyes narrowed and she glared up at Ladybug. “You intend to take back all the miraculouses then?”

Ladybug nodded.

“Including Chat Noir’s?”

Ladybug winced. Ryuko was just as direct as ever.

“I am,” she confirmed. “I’ve discussed the situation in depth with a few of you already, but recent events have suggested I need to expand the plan to include more of you.”

“The akuma in Rouen,” Purple Tigress said, snapping her fingers. “That was you trying to find Chat Noir, wasn’t it?”

“It was.”

“He didn’t like what you had to offer, did he?” Ryuko said cuttingly. “Which is why Carapace and Vesperia look like they volunteered to act as punching bags for Minotaurox here.”

Vesperia shifted uncomfortably. “Negotiations...broke down.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Carapace said, expression dull. “But as far as we know, Chat Noir doesn’t want to part with his miraculous and isn’t going to be persuaded by any of us.”

“And you what,” Ryuko asked sharply, “want us to take it from him?”

The silence that followed stretched out for long enough to be uncomfortable. Ryuko spat out a word in Japanese that Ladybug was sure meant something profane.

“You want us to fight him don’t you?” she asked, glaring at Ladybug in a way that made her sure that Kagami would be having words with Marinette later. “Hunt him down and steal his miraculous like Hawkmoth tried to do to the two of you.”

“It’s not like-” Ladybug sighed. “Yes, we’re going to have to track him down. Yes, we’re taking back the miraculous. But that’s it. Chat Noir is not a criminal. Once we have him secured, I will take his miraculous without revealing his identity, and he will be free to go on with his life.”

“There’s still the part where we have to find him, and then fight him for it,” Purple Tigress said worriedly.

“What, don’t think we can do it?” Rena asked teasingly in a voice too tight to be genuine. “The nine of us against one guy?”

“Based on our last encounter with Chat Noir,” Pegasus said, “I suspect Purple Tigress’ fears are well-founded. Do you think all of us stand a chance at fighting Ladybug?”

The question turned the already dim mood on the rooftop positively foul as the heroes let his words sink in.

“I believe this to be doable,” Ryuko said finally. “If we locate him and all engage him at the same time, Ladybug, Carapace and I can draw his attention while the rest of you find a way to bring him down and restrain him.”

“I can also keep him busy,” Minotaurox said but Ryuko shook her head.

“You are strong, but you lack skill,” she said bluntly. “I fear you would only get in our way and tip the scales in Chat Noir’s favour.”

“Oh.”

“So,” Ryuko asked, “how are we meant to find him? Were I he, I would have left the country the moment I was discovered.”

“We can use the champion again,” Ladybug said. "Our new butterfly holder did well last time."

“Didn’t that plan fail last time?” Minotaurox asked.

Carapace shook his head. “The champion found him just fine. It was Vesperia and I who messed up there and got into a fight we weren’t ready for.”

“I messed up,” Vesperia corrected. “You didn’t do anything.”

“We’ll need more than just two of us on backup then,” Rena Rouge suggested. “And we should use someone else so we can portal everyone in next time and cut down travel time.”

“Agreed.” Ladybug snapped her fingers. “Rena and Carapace, I’ll have you two run occasional patrols to Rouen as well. I’m not hopeful, but I want to give Chat as many opportunities to approach us as possible before we have to force his hand. If you do spot him, alert me immediately.”

Rena nodded.

“Now, for the rest of you,” Ladybug said, “I’m leaving these miraculous in your care for the time being. If it does come to a fight with Chat Noir, you’ll need every bit of practice you can get. I also want you to form a buddy system. None of you are allowed to travel on your own for extended periods. Groups of two more more for everyone. Dismissed.”

As the heroes filed away in various directions, Rena Rouge turned to face Ladybug. “Do you think this will work?”

Ladybug sighed heavily. “I don’t know. I just want this to be over so I can move on with my life.” She leaned against a chimney. “I didn’t expect to be dealing with the miraculous as an adult. I think somewhere in my head I expected to spend a couple of years beating Hawkmoth and be done with it before high school ended.”

“And now you’re the guardian,” Rena Rouge said.

“And now I’m the guardian,” Ladybug agreed. “When I agreed to join the fight against a local supervillain, I didn’t think I’d be charged with protecting the balance of the universe too.” She ran a hand through her hair. “It’s too much.”

“Hey,” Rena put a hand on her shoulder, warm and solid. “You’re not alone. You’ve got me and Nino and Adrien if you just talked to him.”

“I can’t even look at him Rena,” Ladybug groaned. “I got his father arrested. Chat Noir killed him in front of me. Every time I look at Adrien I see his father turning to dust. I...I just can’t.”

“That’s why you’ve been so reluctant to look for him until now,” Rena Rouge said. “Isn’t it?”

“I’d never seen him so angry,” Ladybug whispered. “Like he genuinely hated the man behind Hawkmoth. Like it was personal.”

“That was the first time I took him seriously,” Rena Rouge admitted. “Sure, I knew he was a competent hero, but he was always so...fluffy.”

“...Fluffy?”

“Like, his personality,” Rena Rouge waved her hands. “It’s hard to see past the goofiness and puns and general lack of seriousness.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Ladybug agreed.

“And now,” Rena murmured, “If it wasn’t for the cure, he would have murdered someone. It’s scary to think, but he could have ended every fight with a single touch. Would have saved you a lot of trouble.”

“I know,” Ladybug said. “But he’s not like that. He’s a good person. To a fault.

“He is,” Rena agreed. “But any way this plays out, you’re going to have to hurt him. You know that right?.”

Ladybug closed her eyes. “I know.”

Chapter Text

“Far be it from me to question the infinite wisdom of a seventeen year-old,” Plagg said dryly, “but what are we doing back here?”

Adrien stood before the massive gates of the abandoned Agreste mansion, hands tucked deep into his pockets and hood pulled up over his face. The mansion sat imposingly against the night sky, a lightless void even the streetlights below couldn’t illuminate.

A quick glance told him enough: No lights flickered in the windows and rust crawled along the hinges of the gates; nothing here suggested that the mansion had been touched in all the time he’d been away. He didn’t know how tightly the police and Ladybug had the place secured, nor did he know if Ladybug had left traps or magical origin within – for all he knew the entire team was waiting inside, but the chance of finding something, anything was too great to pass up.

“Father must have had something in the way of information on the miraculous,” Adrien said. “He managed to repair the peacock after all.”

“Sure, he might have, but hasn’t that place been picked clean by the authorities and Ladybug?” Plagg asked. “There’s probably nothing left.”

“Maybe not,” Adrien said. “But it’s a place to start. Father was always good at hiding things.”

“I’m guessing that means we’re going to have to break in?” Plagg drawled. “You do realise that Ladybug’s probably got the whole place lined with security right?”

“She might,” Adrien replied, “But we don’t have any other leads. And if this pays off, we might finally have a way of getting out of this mess.”

“If you say so.”

Adrien ducked around a corner and murmured the magic words.

“Claws out.”

Chat Noir sprung up onto and nearby roof and then onto the mansion walls. No alarms blared, no cameras glimmered. The silence was eerie and oppressive; even the sounds of night traffic were muted here. “So far so good,” he murmured, more to himself than to the kwami in his head.

He crept forward, sticking to the shadows of the wall walk. His legs felt heavy, unease bubbled in his gut, but he pressed onward. The very thought of being back here was enough to shorten his breath; actually setting foot in the mansion was like being trapped in quicksand.

“Alright father,” he muttered under his breath, “I hope you’re better at hiding your trinkets than your secret identity.” His lips twisted into a weak grin that did nothing to lighten the tension that was slowly turning his body to lead. The wall walk ended in a small door into the mansion proper and Chat Noir dissolved the lock with a whispered cataclysm. The door swung open soundlessly.

Memories flashed through his mind as he padded silently down the hall. His father, chasing a younger Adrien with a blanket over his head, the two of them laughing freely as his mother watched. Adrien and his mother watching as his father barked instructions at a weary group of movers trying to maneuver a sofa through a door, stifling giggles at the frustration on his face. Adrien’s mother hanging a painting on the wall as his father tried fruitlessly to convince her to let him hire someone to do it.

As he turned the corner, he spotted the door to his father’s study. Dust coated the handle, its surface glinting faintly in the sparse moonlight filtering through the windows. Chat Noir approached cautiously, his tail flicking side-to-side as he inspected it for traps. Not that he would have known what to look for. Gritting his teeth, he gripped the handle and gave it a firm push.

Nothing.

The handle refused to budge and Chat Noir scowled. “Who locks a door in an abandoned house?” Unwilling to use another cataclysm, Chat Noir resorted to picking the lock with his claws, something Plagg had insisted he learn after he’d almost been locked out of his room after an akuma battle.

The lock popped open and Chat Noir twisted the handle and gave the door a gentle nudge. It opened without a sound, even after a year of neglect. “Father really went all-out on those hinges huh?” From somewhere in the back of his mind, he got the impression that Plagg snorted at his words.

His father’s study had been emptied. The desk was bare of any items, the drawing stand was gone and even the walls were bare. Only the portrait of Emilie was still in place, the buttons for the secret elevator clearly marked in red ink. Chat Noir ran a clawed hand over his mother’s face, aching at the memory of her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hoping that somewhere, somehow, she would hear his words. “I wasn’t enough for him. I wasn’t good enough to keep us together.”

Because he wasn’t. When the dust settled, Adrien Agreste hadn’t been good enough for his father. No matter what he did, Adrien Agreste could never matter enough to his father to motivate him to do good. After all, in Gabriel’s eyes, how could Adrien ever compare to the shining light of Emilie? Chat Noir let his forehead drop against the painting. “I’m sorry for tearing the rest of our family apart. I-” he swallowed thickly, blinking back tears. “I’m sorry.”

His hand dropped from the portrait and he pulled back. Chat Noir closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath to compose himself, grasping the edges of the heartache and folding it into something more manageable. He was here for a purpose, after all.

There was nothing to be found in the study. Between the police and Ladybug it had been picked clean. The only things here were dust and the echoes of a life long gone. Chat Noir closed the door behind him as he left; a physical barrier between him and Emilie’s sad green eyes, so much like his own.

His father’s bedroom was next. Unlike the study, this room was unlocked. Here, the investigation had been thorough, but not inhumanely so. The bed was still made, the sheets pristine despite the dust, and old photos remained on the nightstand. Chat Noir had only a moments hesitation before he opened the drawers, rummaging through an assortment of memorabilia he’d never seen his father with. He paused over a key chain bearing a bottle opener in the shape of mount Fuji. The sight of such a mundane object in the possession of Gabriel Agreste was such a shock that Chat Noir could do nothing but stare at it numbly.

And here he thought his father’s stint as a supervillain had been the most surprising thing about him. After a moment, he pocketed the key chain. “To hidden depths,” he murmured, mostly to himself. He slid the drawer closed and moved on to the walk-in closet. Row upon row of white blazers and red pants greeted him.

“I was wondering what he did with those after he started wearing all white.”

With nothing miraculous found in the two most obvious spots, it was time to start getting creative. Chat Noir’s fingers drummed lightly on his baton as he considered his next stop. The basement might have been next, but the thought of making his way down into those murky depths, the same place his mother had rested… He wasn’t sure he could handle it.

He made his way out of his father’s room and onto the upper walkway. He glanced across the foyer and caught sight of the library door. As a child, Adrien hadn’t paid much attention to the room. The shelves in his bedroom contained whatever he had wanted to read and the books in the main library were so large and stuffy. Chat Noir however, wondered if there was more to the room that he’d originally though.

His fingers trailed down the banister as he descended the stairs and slipped soundlessly into the library. The shelves stretched floor to ceiling, casting the room in deep shadow. An empty fireplace sat on one side, dark and cold. Faint moonlight made its way into the room through the window next to it. The centre of the library was occupied by a large couch and a worn armchair set at an angle around a short table. The pot plant resting there had long since died. Chat Noir eyed the dead plant sadly. The fallout from Hawkmoth’s reign had been pervasive and widespread; nothing in the man’s orbit had been spared. Everyone and everything the man touched had been dragged along into the suffering, from Chat Noir himself to this little pot plant. At lease Chat Noir was still alive.

Chat Noir’s eyes turned to the shelves lining the walls. Thousands of books sat in place, from atlases to novels. Nothing in particular stood out and Chat was almost ready to move on when he spotted it out of the corner of his eye.

A photo album, tucked away in a corner shelf and left to be forgotten. Unable to help himself, Chat Noir crept over and slid it from the shelf. He held it delicately in his clawed hands, careful not to damage it. For a moment he stood, frozen an unable to open the album or return it to the shelf. Finally, he flipped open the cover.

The sight of Gabriel Agreste’s beaming face hit him like a punch to the gut. It didn’t matter how many times he’d seen the old photos, seen proof his father had been a different man. Each time hit him just as hard as the last, as he compared the smiling man on the page to the cold, impassive one he’d actually known.

Chat Noir flipped through the album. It was a collection, he realised, of photos taken before the Agreste’s moved into the mansion. Back when they had been freshly married and happily living in the apartment Adrien now used. Before GABRIEL had become a multi-million dollar company. Before Adrien’s time.

On the final page, was a photo of them outside the old apartment building, keys in hand as Emilie sat in the driver’s seat of a moving van. There was a date on the front, six digits written in looping handwriting. The date the couple had left the apartment and moved into the mansion. Chat Noir carefully slid the photo from its cover and placed it in his pocket, next to the key chain.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed from outside the room. Chat Noir’s ears twitched as he heard the sound of hushed whispers. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Carapace and...Rena Rouge. His ears strained as he tried to listen for a third party, but there were no other sounds. No Ladybug. Just Carapace and Rena Rouge. Just Nino and Alya. Chat Noir pursed his lips in annoyance. He must have tripped an alarm somewhere. He closed the album carefully and returned it to it’s spot, cursing his sentimentality. He’d forgotten he had a purpose here, and now he was going to leave empty-handed, no better off than when he started.

He considered his options. The door on the second floor was still unlocked, having been had its internals reduced to dust, but it was on the other side of the mansion. The window next to the library fireplace was closer, but the only way through that silently was a cataclysm. And if either Carapace or Rena Rouge checked the room and saw empty space where glass should be, they would know he’d been there.

That was his advantage, he thought, nodding to himself. Rena Rouge and Carapace knew an alarm had been tripped, but they didn’t know it had been tripped by him. They might suspect it, but unless they actually saw him, it could just as well have been a malfunction. Leaving through the window was the same as leaving a post-it note with Chat Noir waz here! written in all caps. Leaving the way he came was harder, but it gave him cover.

Chat made his choice.

The plan made very little sense to Carapace.

“We should have waited for backup,” he groused, hefting his shield as they trudged through the poorly lit courtyard. “What sort of plan is this, trying to ambush someone who can see in the dark?”

“I can see just as well as he can,” Rena hissed. “And if we wait, he’ll be gone by the time Ladybug gets here.” She glanced up at the mansion before darting up the steps. “I’ve already sent her a message. She’s probably ten minutes away, which means all we have to do is stall him.”

“We don’t even know if it’s him.”

“Who else would be skulking around Hawkmoth’s old lair huh? Adrien?” Rena made her way to one of the windows and slid it open. “Inside. Quietly.”

From what Carapace could make out, they were in a sitting room of some kind. Light from the streetlamps outside gave just enough light to make out the silhouettes of a coffee table and some couches.

Rena padded quietly to the door and cracked it open. Her ear twitched as she strained to catch any stray sounds.

“All clear.”

Carapace winced every time his boots hit the floor. He was not made for stealth missions like Rena was, who may as well have not been there for all the noise she made.

They crossed the main foyer. With no lights, the mansion took on an eerie quality. Shadows seemed to stretch and quiver as they moved through and Carapace was very aware that Chat could be hiding in any one of them and he would have no way to tell.

“See anything?” he murmured.

Rena swatted his arm. “Be quiet.”

Rena’s ears twitched as she heard a muffled cracking from above them. Slowly, she raised her eyes and found herself staring into a pair of luminous green pools.

“Shit.”

Chat Noir relaxed his claws and dropped from the ceiling, landing in front of them soundlessly. His eyes were closed.

Carapace swung his head side to side. “Rena?”

Rena raised her flute. “He’s right in front of us.”

“Rena Rouge, Carapace,” Chat Noir said pleasantly. Carapace’s head snapped to face him and Chat chuckled, opening his glowing eyes. “Good to see you again.” He cocked his head to the side. “Maybe not for you shelly, since seeing seems to be a bit of a problem for you right now.”

“Chat Noir,” Rena said slowly. “Ladybug wants your miraculous back. It’s time to return it to the guardian.”

“So I’ve heard,” Chat Noir replied. “But neither me or my kwami are quite ready for that yet.”

“So what- you planning on becoming the next Hawkmoth?” Carapace demanded, slightly unsettled by the fact that he appeared to be talking to a pair of disembodied, floating eyes.

Chat Noir scoffed. “That’s quite a leap, considering the only time I’ve used my miraculous in the past year was to save that lady from a house fire. Besides,” he continued, “My kwami has a bucket list of cheeses he wants to try and places to visit.” He shrugged casually. “After three years of fighting, I’m inclined to indulge him.”

Rena readied her flute. “It doesn’t matter what your kwami wants, the guardian has the final say. Since she’s, you know- the guardian.”

“Now I know you don’t believe that Rena,” Chat Noir said flatly. “After everything you and Trixx have been through together, I know you wouldn’t part with her forever without a fight. And you.” Chat turned to Carapace. “You’re a natural hero, you wield the miraculous of protection. Don’t you want to use it to protect people?” Chat spread his arms wide. “The miraculous are meant to be used for good! They can’t do that if they’re sitting in a box in some girl’s drawer.”

“Maybe the greater good is following the guardian’s judgement,” Carapace retorted, hefting his shield. “Something you used to believe in!”

“And where did that get me?” Chat snapped. “Following the guardian’s judgement got me excluded from everything, left a teenager in charge of the most powerful jewellery collection in the world and turned me into a child soldier!”

“You don’t seem to have many issues with that last bit,” Rena Rouge said pointedly.

“Only because I met Plagg, who has been the closest thing to family I’ve had in a long time.” Chat glowered ferociously. “And now Ladybug is trying to take him away!”

“It doesn’t have to be forever,” Rena insisted. “Once Ladybug knows who you are, you can visit Plagg whenever you want!”

“I was wondering when we’d hit that little snag,” Chat Noir muttered bitterly. He fixed Rena with a fierce glare that sent a jolt of unease down her spine. “Ladybug cannot, ever, know who I am.”

“I don’t think Ladybug agrees with you there,” Rena said darkly.

“It’s a good thing she’s not here then,” Chat Noir replied. “I’ll be sure to talk to her about it next time we meet. Until then, good luck with the heroing.”

He made to move past her and was stopped by Rena’s flute across his stomach.

“Why don’t you wait here for a few minutes,” she said. “Ladybug’s on her way now and you can have that talk with her then.”

Chat Noir sighed, mentally preparing himself to fight his friends. “That’s… unfortunate.”

The room was silent for a moment.

Then chaos erupted.

Chat Noir smacked Rena’s flute away and darted for the door, only to be stopped by her arm around his waist as she heaved him over her head and threw him back towards the staircase. He twisted at the last possible second, landing on all fours against the steps. The marble cracked under his boots and hands at the force of the landing.

Chat Noir stood up, rolling his shoulders. “That wasn’t cool,” he said, reaching up with a lazy stretch.

Rena ignored him and snatched her flute from the ground. “Carapace, trap him!” she shouted, conjuring a lantern from in a puff of orange smoke.

Carapace leapt into action, no longer blind. His arms wrapped around Chat Noir, who twisted wildly from his grip. He kicked off Carapace’s shoulders and flipped smoothly over Rena, who lunged at him as he landed, tackling him against the banister. Before Carapace could close the distance, Chat Noir slammed both fists into Rena’s back, knocking her down against the floor as the air left her lungs in a sudden gasp.

Carapace slung his shield at Chat Noir, freeing up his hands to grab Rena and slide her behind him. “Pick on someone your own size!”

“That’s the same tactic you used last time shell-head,” Chat Noir laughed, swiping the shield out of the air and making a break for a side room. “Slow to come up with new moves there, hey turtle boy?”

“Keep him away from the windows!” Rena coughed, staggering to her feet.

Carapace threw himself into a sprint, chasing after Chat Noir. He picked his shield off the ground mid-stride and lunged, just managing to catch him by the wrist. Chat Noir whirled and suddenly Carapace found himself on the receiving end of the black cat’s wrath. Blow after blow rained down on the shield as Carapace refused to release him.

“Come on man,” Chat Noir grunted, battering away at the shield. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Don’t worry,” Carapace huffed, hoping Rena was close. “You won’t.” It wasn’t true. Carapace was still sporting bruises from their last encounter. Waking up had never been quite as painful as it had the morning after their fight, but Chat didn’t know that and he’d be damned if he let him find out. Carapace held the miraculous of protection, taking damage was his role and every hit he took was one his girlfriend didn’t. For a second, he found himself sympathising with the black cat as he remembered back to the days of constant akuma attacks.

Chat Noir growled and slammed his palm into the centre of Carapace’s shield, the force of the blow knocking the turtle hero to his knees and suddenly the sympathy was gone. “Shell-” His voice was cut off as Chat Noir’s free hand closed over his mouth and shoved. Carapace’s head snapped back and his hold on Chat Noir’s wrist weakened for a second; a second was all it took for Chat Noir to break away and shove a boot into his chest.

Rena was pouncing at Chat Noir the moment Carapace fell, her flute whirling toward him in an orange blur. The silver baton was in his hand in an instant, neatly blocking the swipe.

“You sure this is how you want to play this?” he chuckled. “After all, swordplay is my speciality.”

“Laugh all you want cat, you can’t joke your way out of this,” she said fiercely, twirling gracefully and slashing at him again, her flute a blur of orange and white.

Chat Noir ducked under the swing, baton extending in a flash that propelled him skywards as he flipped over her head and twisting just enough to dodge the reverse swing she sent at him as he landed.

Rena Rouge lunged at him again, undeterred, her flute carving through the air. Chat sidestepped and the flute hit the ground, cracking the tiles. She was naturally fast and a decent enough hand-to-hand fighter, but her bladework was sloppy, propped up by the speed and strength bestowed by the miraculous with no technical skill to back it up.

“You should have brought Ryuko,” Chat teased. He batted away a strike that left her overextended and retaliated with a pair of sharp hits to her ribs. Rena growled and struck again, only to be parried away expertly. Behind Chat Noir, Carapace was on his feet and Rena grinned.

“Carapace, now!”

What happened next only took one second. But, in the middle of a fight, one second is a lot of time. And in a super-powered fight, a lot can happen in one second.

Chat Noir’s free hand shot sideways and half of his baton shot through the air in a blur of silver.

Rena froze as her eyes tracked the baton’s path.

When had he split it?

The lantern mirage disappeared in a puff of smoke, plunging the room into darkness. Rena felt Chat Noir’s hand close over her arm the moment the light disappeared and with a mighty wrench, he threw himself behind her.

“Shell-ter!”

“No!”

Rena lunged for Chat Noir, only to slam headfirst into a wall of green energy.

“Ooh, better luck next time.” Chat Noir grinned at her from outside the force-field and Rena growled, pounding her fists against the prison walls.

“As fun as it was catching up with you two,” Chat Noir smirked, “I really should be going. Tell Spots I said hi!”

Then he was gone, blending into the shadows so seamlessly that Rena was sure she wouldn’t have been able to see him, even in broad daylight.

Chat Noir slid through his apartment window and landed in a crouch on the carpet.

“Claws in.”

The black leather, ears and tail of Chat Noir slid off him in a crackle of green lightning an Adrien’s hand moved to his pocket. The key chain and photograph were there, tucked seamlessly against his leg.

“Did you find anything useful while you were in there?” Plagg asked, drifting over to the kitchen and retrieving a wheel of camembert from the fridge.

Adrien shook his head and drew the curtains shut. “Nothing that will help us,” he said, voice heavy with disappointment. “All I did was take a few trinkets and expose that we’re back in Paris to Rena and Carapace.”

“Well, it could have gone worse,” Plagg said, sounding rather unfazed by the whole matter. “You could have been caught by Ladybug, and then we’d have been in for the fight of our lives.”

“You don’t think it’ll come to that, do you?” Adrien asked. “That I’ll have to...fight Ladybug?”

“It will if you don’t find a way to hide from her,” Plagg said. “She seems pretty set on getting your miraculous back, by hook or by crook. Which means either we go around her, or we go through her.” Plagg held up a paw that crackled with dark energy. “And unlike the rest of the chumps in the miracle box, I got the firepower to do just that. Which means you do too.”

“Yeah right,” Adrien sighed, sinking onto the couch. “Nobody’s more powerful than Ladybug.”

Plagg snorted. “What part of God of Destruction did you miss when I gave you my job description. And if I recall correctly, it wasn’t Ladybug who matched Hawkmoth blow for blow and beat him.”

“That was different,” Adrien said. “Father...I needed to stop him. He was my father. I had to do it. For Paris, and everyone he hurt. For my mother, so she wouldn’t have to see what he turned into.”

“And if you need to beat Ladybug, I’m pretty sure you can pull that off too.”

“I don’t know Plagg,” Adrien said, taking the photograph from his pocket and brushing his finger over his mother’s face. “I don’t really want to fight her-”

He looked at the looping numbers on the photograph again. Six digits stared back at him. Adrien’s eyes widened as a thought occurred to him. He sprung to his feet and strode into the study, flinging the cupboard door open. The black metal safe stared out at him and he punched in the six digits on the photograph.

The safe gave a little beep and clicked as the locks disengaged. With trembling hands, Adrien opened the safe door. Inside, sat a single USB drive.

“That’s either something really important, or old business records,” Plagg said from over his shoulder. Adrien moved to his computer and plugged the drive in. It wasn’t even encrypted. He opened the main folder and was greeted with four gigabytes worth of PDFs, PNGs and sub-folders. He clicked on the first PDF. The file opened and Adrien found himself staring at a fully translated copy of the guardian’s tome.

Beside him, Plagg let out a cackle of delight.

“Jackpot.”

Chapter Text

Adrien absently thumbed the black ring currently hanging from his neck by a silver chain as he poured over his father’s notes on fixing the peacock. Strictly speaking, the information wasn’t entirely relevant to his current predicament, but Adrien Agreste was nothing if not studious. The same drive and willingness to commit that had propelled him to top of his class and made him such a fantastic Chat Noir had returned full-force, and Adrien had thrown himself into his newest project with gusto.

Behind him, the TV chattered out a news report.

In the weeks following Chat Noir’s reappearance, the heroes of Paris have made a major reappearance.

Adrien examined a photograph of the damaged peacock miraculous, barely aware of Njada’s voice in the background.

After the steady decrease in hero activity over the past year, people are asking why the sudden change?

“Dust of meteorites?” he grumbled, flicking through Gabriel’s exceptionally neat handwriting. “That’s so...vague. What makes them so special? It’s not like meteors contain elements that don’t exist on Earth.”

And that’s not all folks, the heroes have started patrolling in Rouen too.

While his father had made sure to record his methods, if he possessed any theories of his own, he hadn’t seen fit to write them down.

No official statement has been issued yet by Ladybug, but we assume that she is trying to find and reunite with her missing partner.

“Maybe it’s the compounds,” Adrien theorised, tapping the stylus against his lips thoughtfully. “Minerals that don’t naturally form on planets.”

The only question is, will Chat Noir return? Or is he determined to remain in hiding?

“Or it could be the impact? Maybe the impact pressure forms chemical structures that we can’t get here.” Adrien rubbed his finger against the silver ring. “What do you think Plagg?” Predictably, his kwami didn’t answer. Renouncing the ring might have kept them safe and undetectable, but it was far lonelier than he’d thought.

That’s all viewers, wishing you a good day.

Adrien sighed, setting the tablet and stylus on the coffee table. He needed a break. He needed to do something other than sit at his desk and work. He’d been at this since noon, and already dusk was drawing near. Adrien leaned back to look at the tablet. Not even a third of the way through the PDF.

The fridge was almost bare. In the week since he’d arrived, Adrien had only left his home once to buy food. The past eight days had been a frenzy of research and experimentation; he’d only just finished his project before lunch and waiting until nightfall to test it was killing him. At least he had a late dinner with Nino afterwards to look forward to.

He grabbed an apple and bit into it, wincing as the cold stung at his teeth. There was a spare whiteboard marker on the kitchen bench. Adrien grabbed it and moved to the living room, where the couches had been pushed aside to make room for a large whiteboard.

“That’s another patrol sighted in Rouen,” he muttered as he glanced at the TV, making a note on the board. He took a step back and looked at his work, drumming his fingers against his leg in an erratic pattern. Despite his best efforts, he’d been unable to work out a pattern to the patrols. A part of him wasn’t surprised at his failure; planning had always been Ladybug’s wheelhouse. He folded his arms. If he couldn’t work out a pattern, the next phase of his plan would need to be played by ear. The thought was uncomfortable. Chat Noir had played things by ear his whole life, and had only made it this far because his partner had the foresight to plan for the both of them.

Now, that same partner was working against him. Chat Noir would need to take care of his own plans from now on. He tossed the pen back onto the couch, if only to avoid the temptation to gnaw on it, something that had started on day five of his isolation.

“No time to learn like the present,” he said, mostly to himself but a little bit to the kwami that couldn’t hear him. There was no snippy comeback, no drawling sarcasm. Adrien reached up to rub at the ring hanging at his neck. It was almost sundown.

Surely letting Plagg out a bit early couldn’t hurt?

Being stuck inside for five days straight had taken its toll and his patience was well and truly frayed. Adrien checked the Ladyblog. Sure enough, the heroes were still out in Rouen, and Adrien slid the ring onto his finger. Plagg appeared in a flash, yawning and stretching his tiny arms.

“Hey, Plagg,” Adrien said, scratching his friend between the ears. “I missed you.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m sure you did. Enough sappy stuff,” Plagg said, swatting the finger away and flying up to take in the appearance of his holder.

Adrien’s hair was even wilder than usual, and sticking up awkwardly on one side like he’d fallen asleep at a desk. A dark stain that smelled suspiciously like coffee sat on his chest and his eyes were tinged with a slight mania that set Plagg’s teeth on edge.

“How long has it been?”

“Only a week.”

“Only a week?” Plagg exclaimed, his concern for Adrien temporarily set aside. “You mean to tell me I’ve been separated from my delicious cheeses for a whole week?” He zipped away, phasing straight through the fridge door. He reappeared a moment later, looking much rounder. “So kid, you got something good for me?” he asked around a mouthful of camembert.

“Oh do I,” said Adrien, grinning too widely for Plagg’s taste. He made his way into the kitchen and reached for a small packet wrapped in green plastic.

This was it. The culmination of five days and five nights worth of study, practice and sheer determination. Adrien set it on the table in front of the kwami. “I give you,” he began theatrically. With a wave of his hand, he unwrapped the plastic. Inside were a set of multi-coloured slices of camembert. “Power ups.”

Plagg blinked. “I don’t see how being able to breathe underwater and ice-skate will help you hide from Ladybug in everyday life.”

“Those aren’t the important ones,” Adrien said, a little taken back by Plagg’s blasé attitude. He pointed to a very green slice. “That one is. Astrochat.”

Plagg snorted. “What, were you planning to hide on the moon?”

“No, I-” Adrien deflated slightly. “I don’t know why, but I thought you would be more excited than this.”

“Excited?” Plagg looked incredulous. “You’ve massacred the sacred taste of my camembert for this. I’m in deep mourning for the deep, rich flavour that’s been lost. Forever. By you. I expected this from Fu, or Ladybug, but I thought you knew better, that my knowledge of cheese was starting to rub off on you.”

“You- I-” Adrien facepalmed. “Never mind. The important thing is we now have access to high-speed travel whenever we want.”

“Yep,” Plagg said sadly.

“Which is important for the next stage of the plan I’ve come up with,” Adrien said impatiently.

Plagg sighed with exaggerated heaviness and Adrien bit back an angry grumble. “I will buy you as much replacement camembert on my next shopping trip as I can,” he said, silently dreading the day his kwami and Abelard got to meet each other properly. Plagg perked up immediately. “Within reason!” Adrien amended swiftly.

Plagg took a moment to consider his offer, then nodded. “Alright then, lets hear this plan of yours.”

“Thank you.” Adrien strode over to the whiteboard. “So far, Ladybug has limited her patrols to Paris and Rouen,” he began, waving at his list of sightings. “She occasionally brings out the champion, but we’ve managed to avoid detection by keeping your miraculous inactive. But,” he continued enthusiastically, “it’s not a permanent solution. So I’ve come up with a plan.” Adrien tapped his tablet and set it to display on the TV. A map of France appeared on the screen.

“Ladybug thinks I’m hiding in either Paris or Rouen,” he said. “But if we can start having Chat Noir appear in cities further away from Paris, either towards Belgium or Spain, we might be able to convince her that we’re trying to leave the country.” He paused for effect, looking remarkably pleased with himself.

“So where does Astrochat come in?” Plagg asked.

“Astrochat will let us cover the distance to each of those cities fast enough to get in, let someone take a photo of Chat Noir and then get out before Ladybug can scramble enough heroes to intercept us.”

“You want to lead her on a wild goose chase,” Plagg said, nodding in approval as he caught on. “How do you know she won’t figure it out?”

“I don’t,” Adrien said. “But I’m not trying to get her to chase me.” He pointed to the map. “If I let someone photograph me near the train line from Rouen to Dieppe, then on the outskirts of Dieppe-”

“She’ll assume you’re moving in that direction and try to predict your movements.”

“Exactly. Ladybug is the smartest person I know. She’s going to predict, rather than pursue, so in order to escape her I need to make sure she’s predicting the wrong thing.” Adrien pursed his lips, considering the map. “I can’t be photographed too often though. And only at night, to sell the illusion that I’m moving in secret while trying to escape.”

“In that case, you should skip a city,” Plagg said.

“Skip a city?”

“Say you’re going to Belgium,” Plagg explained, “You go from Dieppe, to Amiens, to Valenciennes right?”

Adrien nodded.

“Chat Noir getting spotted in all of those cities in a row is bound to throw up a red flag for Ladybug. So skip Amiens, wait another couple of days, then show up in Valenciennes.”

“Which would give the illusion that I passed through Amiens without being detected,” Adrien said, snapping his fingers as he appreciated his kwami’s sly streak.

The gesture, his grin and the food stains on his shirt made him look all the more maniacal and Plagg took a moment to enjoy the chaotic energy his charge was exuding. “Precisely kid! You’re finally getting it. And while Ladybug is tying herself up in knots about where you’re going next, you’ll be right here in Paris waiting for your birthday.”

Adrien nodded. “So, what do you think?”

Plagg folded his tiny arms, appraising the map. “Suitably cunning,” he said, smiling toothily. “As long as we keep Astrochat a secret, the bug won’t have a clue what we’re up to.”

“Excellent.” Adrien tossed the power up to Plagg. “I think there’s time for a test run before I catch up with Nino for dinner. Should only take fifteen minutes tops.”

“Now?” Plagg caught the cheese, wrinkling his nose. “That’s a little hasty don’t you think? What if we run into...complications?”

“Dinner with Nino is two hours away,” said Adrien, the urge to get out and run crawling across his skin. “We’ve got plenty of time to get into trouble, and out of it again.”

Plagg looked at the map with a frown. “I’m normally all for this “gung-ho” behaviour, but kid, there’s a lot on the line here.”

“I’ve been inside for six days straight,” Adrien said, raising his arms overhead in a vigorous stretch. “I need to get out and do something.”

“Go for a run then,” Plagg said, folding his arms. “What happened to almost panicking over a lack of secrecy?”

“I’ve got live updates for hero sightings on my baton,” Adrien argued. “I’m not looking for a fight, I just want to make sure the power-ups work properly.”

Plagg groaned. “Fine. But if you get even a feeling that there’s trouble you turn tail and run. The last thing we need is to get drawn into a brawl with the heavy hitters Ladybug’s been sending out lately.” The kwami blinked, then scowled ferociously. “Damn kid, you’ve got me acting responsible. Me! You’re lucky I like the cheese you buy me.”

Adrien chucked him one of the Astrochat power-ups, practically vibrating with excitement. “We can visit a fromagerie tomorrow and I’ll let you take your pick of cheeses.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Plagg said.

Adrien grinned. “Let’s go then.”

The French countryside wound gently beneath Astrochat, hidden in darkness save for the occasional lights from homes and towns. In hindsight, perhaps trying to cross the country in the evening sun had been a touch risky. Sure, he’d taken the bus to the outskirts of Paris and only transformed when he was well and truly alone, but there was something to be said for the rocket trail he was leaving as he streaked across the sky. At least while he was this high up, he had as much cloud cover as he would ever need.

Rouen loomed in the distance and Astrochat checked his baton. Right on schedule. He touched down in a park on the edge of the city, checking to make sure there was nothing watching and then letting the power up fade. Chat Noir stretched lazily and made his way onto the nearest rooftop. A quick google search on his baton revealed that none of the heroes had been spotted out and about. Adrien frowned. He would have much preferred they be active in Paris so he was sure of where they were, but at least they hadn’t been spotted in Rouen.

He made his way across the roofs, enjoying the feeling of the wind on his face. His week inside had been agony after finally transforming again. There was nothing that could compare to the freedom of being Chat Noir, to the relief a simple jog across the rooftops could provide. Chat Noir closed his eyes and sucked in a lungful of cold night air, relishing in the way it stung his nose.

A gasp from below caught his attention and Chat whipped around to the sound. A pair of boys were looking up at him, phones in hand. Chat sprung away from the edge of the roof. He hadn’t intended to put his plan into play so soon, but he supposed there wasn’t any harm in it.

He checked his baton again. If he headed back now, he would have an hour to make sure he covered his tracks carefully. Chat Noir tucked his baton onto his back and dropped into a crouch, preparing to leap back into the park.

The air tingled around him and Chat Noir’s hair stood on end, his feline senses going into overdrive. His eyes widened and he threw himself backward on instinct as a burst of lightning struck the rooftop where he’d been standing. Chat Noir yelped, scrambling back. A figure emerged from the lightning, sword drawn and Chat Noir’s heart sank.

“Hello Chat Noir,” Ryuko said evenly. “I ask that you surrender now.”

There was a grunt from somewhere behind him, then a crash as Minotaurox landed heavily on the roof, glowering down at him.

Chat Noir whistled as he stood, hoping he sounded more casual than he felt. “Ladybug brought out the big guns today.”

Ryuko levelled her sword at him. “You were foolish to come out of hiding Chat Noir. Surrender and return with us or we will make you.”

Plagg’s warning echoed in his ears. Running was probably his best bet.

But.

Ryuko had only used lightning dragon. Her wind dragon form was very much capable of catching up with him, which made running fairly pointless. But, if he could just get her to use it… Chat glanced around. “Should I expect more of you?”

Ryuko pulled her earpiece from the hilt of her blade.

“Guess that answers that question,” he muttered. Ryuko ignored him and Chat Noir grabbed his baton and aimed it at her hand.

“Go long!”

The baton exploded forward, spearing Ryuko’s hand and knocking the earpiece off into the night. Ryuko’s eyes widened and she turned to face Chat Noir, a snarl on her lips.

“Good luck finding that without night vision!” Chat Noir crowed.

“Minotaurox,” Ryuko growled, “contact the team. I will occupy the cat.”

They moved at the same time, Minotaurox backing off and reaching for his hammer while Ryuko leapt at Chat Noir, her sword cleaving down in a vicious slash that he barely blocked. Sparks flew as Ryuko transitioned into the cleanest moulinette he’d ever seen and Chat barely parried it away with a wild swipe that would have made his fencing instructors wince in disappointment. Behind him, he could hear Minotaurox fumbling with the comm.

Chat Noir made a split-second decision and backflipped away from Ryuko, swiping at Minotaurox as he sprang over his head. The larger hero stumbled and Chat kept the hero’s body between his own and Ryuko, drawing him directly into the fight to keep him from calling for help.

“Coward,” Ryuko snarled as she darted around Minotaurox, but Chat was already backing away and hammering at Minotaurox with his baton, who was trying in vain to block the hits with his hammer.

“Strategist,’ Chat Noir corrected, ducking a wild swipe with the hammer. “Gotta even this two on one somehow.” For all his efforts, Minotaurox’s earpiece was still in his hammer and it was becoming apparent that for all his size and strength, he did not have the skill to compete with the more experienced heroes. Ryuko sprung over Minotaurox’s head and slashed at Chat Noir, who brought his baton around in a sweeping parry before putting the pressure back onto Minotaurox. His plan was working, but already his arms were growing sore. Fighting Ryuko on his best days was a herculean task. Trying to do so while keeping someone else from having enough time to press two buttons? It was taking everything he had.

Chat Noir grimaced as Ryuko manoeuvred around Minotaurox again. The big hero reacted on instinct, the hammer arcing up and over, crashing into the roof beside her.

“Watch it,” she snapped, and Chat took advantage of the momentary distraction to grab the head of the hammer and wrench it from the ox hero’s hands. Chat hefted the weapon, testing the weight. It wasn’t as finely balanced as his baton, but with his increased strength, it would do.

Minotaurox lowered his head and charged him, just like his namesake. Chat Noir grinned. “Batter up!” The hammer spun in his hands and Chat threw all his weight into the hit. The blow caught Minotaurox in the ribs and launched him clean off the roof. Chat Noir whistled. “Four?”

Ryuko’s blade flashed towards him. Without the cover the larger hero provided, Chat Noir was out in the open. He just managed to bring the hammer up to block the overhead strike, but was forced to dodge the following thrust. The hammer might have been powerful, but against Ryuko’s speed it was weighing him down. Chat drove Ryuko back with a series of swing that she dodged gracefully and turned, hurling the hammer in the opposite direction Minotaurox had flown. His baton was in his hand instantly, blocking the strike to his back on instinct.

“Oh that’s so much better,” Chat Noir said, easily parrying the next three hits. Ryuko’s eyes narrowed and her speed practically doubled, driving Chat Noir back across the rooftop. “Oh come on,” he complained breathlessly. “That’s not fair!”

Despite her speed, Chat Noir wasn’t out of the game yet. Sparks flew as his own strikes grew to match hers in power and ferocity. A nearby chimney was cloven in half by a swing Chat ducked, and the concrete roof shattered under an overhead blow from his staff. Still, Ryuko pushed him back, her strikes as precise as they were fast. Each hit she threw was calculated, and balanced enough to pose a threat without revealing her openings.

It was like fighting a wall. A wall armed with a very sharp sword and intent on turning him into a feline fillet.

“Stay...still!” Ryuko grunted, launching a lightning-fast upward slash that Chat Noir backflipped away from. The tip of her blade grazed his shoulder as it flashed past him.

“Not on your life,” Chat Noir panted, extending his baton mid-flip and stabbing down at her. “Cats do not make good sushi meat!”

Ryuko swiped his baton aside and thrust up at him as he fell. Chat just managed to kick it away, the steel toes on his boots catching the flat of her blade as he landed in a crouch. Undeterred, Ryuko brought her blade around in a brutal, two-handed diagonal cut that could have cleaved through concrete.

Chat Noir rolled out of the way and handsprung to his feet, his reflexes bringing the baton up before he even saw the next hit coming. The ringing of steel told him everything he needed to know and he launched a devastating series of attacks, careful not to overextended himself.

Not one of them got through as Ryuko weaved a web of metal around herself, completely untouchable behind her phenomenal bladework. The difference between his brief battle against Rena Rouge a week earlier and this one could not have been more apparent. Where Rena Rouge used her newfound speed and strength to make up for her lack of skill, Ryuko used it to enhance her own, which at the very least rivalled his own.

Ryuko pivoted on her heel and slashed at him, her blade a blur of light that would have taken his head off had he not ducked under it. He disengaged quickly, dashing backward and extending his baton rapidly enough to send the tip spearing toward her front leg. Ryuko cut down in a diagonal parry, her sword catching his baton and driving it off-course and into the ground.

They were both panting now, eyeing each other warily as they circled, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

Anger glittered in Ryuko’s eyes. Her life had been devoted to mastering the blade. To find herself unable to best Chat Noir in her own arena? Her fingers tightened around her sword. It rankled. Even worse was the fact that he seemed to possess legitimate skill- enough to contend with hers. If he had been untrained, she could have told herself it was simply the difference in the power of their miraculous. But there was more to the black cat than that.

Ryuko growled. His guard was purposefully open, cocky and full of holes she knew instinctively were lies. Every time her blade came close to him it would be diverted by that ridiculous baton or hiss though open air. Each time she had him dead to rights, found an opening that would have led to a hit on any other foe, she connected with nothing but black mist. He was fast, to the point of absurdity. Perhaps if it were Kagami against whomever lay under his mask she could be confident in her victory. But Chat Noir had years of experience and a miraculous that was, quite frankly, in a whole league above hers. Ryuko eyed his baton. Maybe it was time to try something different.

She surged forward with breathtaking speed, her sword sliding up the length of his staff and toward his fingers. Chat Noir yelped and split his baton in half. The bind lost, Ryuko cut down at his leg and Chat Noir twisted, throwing himself sideways as her blade passed right through where his leg had been. His back hit the ground and Chat rolled backwards, snagged the other half of his baton, fitted them together and pole-vaulted away from her, landing on his feet in one swift move.

Ryuko stared at him and cocked her head to the side as if considering something.

Then she dashed forward again, throwing caution to the wind and launching strike after strike at him. Gone were the precise hits, the carefully balanced blows. Ryuko wanted him down and she wanted it now. Chat Noir stumbled back, throwing everything he had into keeping her blade away. There were openings in her form now, but they appeared and disappeared so fast he barely saw them, let alone had the opportunity to capitalise on them.

Chat Noir deflected a blow aimed at his arm. Ryuko wound back and Chat saw the hit to his leg coming before she threw it. His baton flashed out and caught her across the ribs with a dull crack. Chat Noir watched as shock and disbelief flashed across her face.

“How!?” she hissed. She was out of breath now, maybe even more than he was. Her hair was plastered across her forehead, soaked with sweat.

Chat shrugged, grateful for the reprieve. “Maybe I’m just better than you.”

Ryuko roared, her blade whirling out to meet his baton. They clashed again, faster and fiercer than before. But the tides had shifted. Now it was Chat Noir who pressed forward, battering Ryuko with a strength and swiftness he had not possessed moments ago.

Chat Noir found himself grinning widely as he advanced, his movements as graceful as they were audacious. An overhead strike turned into a thrust which flowed into a coupe; each one was barely turned away by an increasingly flustered Ryuko. There was a grunt from behind him and Chat Noir knew Minotaurox had found his way back to the fight.

The ox hero made to tackle him from behind Chat leapt over him at the last minute, watching as Ryuko was bowled over by the charge. He was on them as soon as they were on their feet, alternating hits between the two. To her credit, Ryuko took it upon herself to deflect the hits he aimed at Minotaurox too, the ox hero having failed to recover his hammer.

They were fighting a loosing battle. Chat Noir kept the pressure up, his breathing steady, even as he pushed them towards the edge of the building. Minotaurox lunged and Chat Noir laughed as he slipped through his fingers like smoke, catching Ryuko’s wrist and kicking her legs out from under her. Ryuko twisted, a desperate attempt at a thrust that Chat sidestepped with ease. Ryuko’s eyes widened-

Minotaurox gasped from somewhere behind him.

-as her blade sank deep into his abdomen. Minotaurox stood behind Chat, arms outstretched and ready to grab him as he stared at the weapon protruding from his midsection.

Chat Noir froze.

Ryuko released her sword immediately, tumbling to the ground.

"Uh oh." Minotaurox paled as he touched a finger to the handle. Chat Noir watched in horror as he sank to his knees.

“Don’t touch it!” Ryuko was on her feet again, batting his hand away and keeping him steady. “We need to call Ladybug!”

Moving on autopilot, Chat Noir split his baton in half and handed her the end with the phone. “Here.”

Ryuko’s face flashed between fury and indignation. She swiped the baton from his hand wordlessly, already dialling Ladybug. She picked up immediately.

“Chat?” Ladybug’s voice was tinny over the speaker.

“It’s Ryuko,” Ryuko said. “We need an emergency portal now. Minotaurox is injured. Badly.”

The massive hero let out a pained groan and Chat Noir stood unmoving, watching in horrid fascination as the blade lodged in Minotaurox’s midsection wobbled. Ryuko was talking, her words too fast and incoherent for him to make out. Something was buzzing in his ears. The air was cold in his lungs. Too cold. Chat Noir coughed, eyes never leaving the sword as drops of red slowly ebbed down the silver blade and leaked onto the roof.

Kid, move!

Plagg’s urge shocked him into action and Chat Noir turned tail and ran. He ran as fast as he could without a care for the direction he went as long as it was away. Away from Ryuko and away from Minotaurox and away from that horrible sword slowly dripping crimson onto the cracked concrete rooftop.

Chapter Text

Beep...

Beep...

Beep...

The pulse monitor chimed continuously as the three girls watched Ivan’s chest rise and fall beneath a white blanket. An IV drip hung from a stand, the tube curving gently into his wrist. Doctors had worked tirelessly to get him stable, but it would be some time before he woke, if he did at all.

“We’re going to have to tell his family something soon.” It was Alya who broke the silence first. “We can’t put it off it for much longer.”

“Yeah,” Marinette replied, her eyes still fixed on Ivan’s sleeping form. Her tears had already fallen and the empty, hollow feeling that occupied her chest now was somehow even worse. The ever-present smell of antiseptic and cleaning agents did nothing to calm the roiling of her stomach.

“Sooo...?” Alya trailed off and sighed when Marinette failed to respond. “What are we going with?”

Marinette finally looked up at her best friend, whose amber eyes were wide with worry. This was not something either of them had ever imagined. The enormity of their situation pressed down on Marinette’s shoulders. She was going to have to tell Ivan’s family that their son was hurt. And even if she didn’t say why, she would know the truth. Ivan was hurt because of her. Because of her orders. She was going to have to look Meylene in the eye and tell her that her boyfriend might die because of instruction Marinette gave.

Marinette blanched and lurched for the trashcan, just making it before the contents of her stomach made a sudden and violent reappearance.

Why is it always carrots?

Alya was beside her instantly, one hand on her back and the other keeping her hair out of her face.

“There there, you’re alright,” she comforted. “Thank goodness for the pigtails,” Alya chuckled. “Makes this so much easier.”

“Thank...you,” Marinette croaked. “How are you so calm?”

Alya blinked, and then shrugged. “I’m not,” she admitted. “But between you, me and Kagami,” she cast a glance at the Japanese girl, who hadn’t moved since since she’d arrived. She sat completely still, huddled atop one of the guest chairs with knees drawn up to her chest as she stared unblinkingly at Ivan. Longg was nowhere to be seen. Alya watched her sadly.

“Someone needs to be.”

“Do I tell them?” Marinette muttered, her voice a hoarse whisper.

“Tell who what?”

“His parents,” Marinette said, pushing the bin away when it became apparent that nothing else was coming up. “Should I tell them that he’s a- a hero?”

“No.” Alya shook her head. “Too many questions come from that. And if it gets out that Minotaurox was injured in a fight with Chat Noir...there will be chaos. It’s bad enough that everyone knows that Chat Noir’s gone solo after the interview, the last thing we need is a story getting out that it’s actually come to blows.”

Marinette’s fists clenched involuntarily at the mention of Chat Noir. How could it have come to this? Her Chat Noir, drawing the blood of a fellow hero. Had the fight with Hawkmoth really changed him that much? Just a year ago they had been closer than ever, training the new heroes and readying for the day Hawkmoth slipped up. Now, it was like she barely knew him. He was a ghost on the wind, capable of throwing around her teams’ heaviest hitters and willing to fight them with everything he had; now he’d nearly killed one of them. What could have possibly driven him to this?

“Why?” she asked helplessly, sagging against Alya.

Her best friend caught her and pulled her into a tight, one-armed hug. “I don’t know,” Alya said. “Maybe he’s sending a message, warning us to stay away.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

Kagami’s shaky voice cut through the air with only a hint of its usual sharpness.

The girls turned to face her. Kagami’s eyes were red. “It was mine.”

“Kagami-”

“No.” Kagami cut Alya off with a glare. “It was my hand on the sword. I pushed too hard. I let my desire to defeat Chat Noir override my control. All Chat Noir did was dodge and I-” Kagami stared down at her hands. “I wasn’t paying attention to where Minotaurox was,” she whispered.

“You were fighting Chat Noir,” Alya said. “You couldn’t have been paying attention to everything else around you.”

“Of course I should have,” Kagami snapped. “I was trained from birth to master the sword.” She quietened. “I knew Minotaurox was too inexperienced to fight Chat Noir; I gave him an order to stay back and call for backup so I could handle Chat Noir alone.” She clenched her fists. “Chat Noir used him as a living shield- forced him to fight so he couldn’t call for help! I should have given the order to withdraw as soon as I saw that. But I was sure I could beat him. I spent most of the fight a breath away from cutting him down,” she said angrily. “I don’t understand how he managed to turn the tide on me so easily.”

It was at this moment that Tikki chose to appear, poking her head out of Marinette’s purse. “Plagg is the god of destruction, one half of absolute power,” she said, her voice serious. “And Chat Noir has had years to grow into his powers. His victory is not a proper reflection of your skill.”

“It is true Lady Kagami,” Longg said, bowing his head respectfully as he emerged from Kagami’s pocket. “I could never hope to beat Plagg in terms of raw power. It would take all the kwami of the zodiac to match either Tikki or Plagg in a head-to-head confrontation.”

“Are we allowed to come out now?” Trixx asked, peering out of Alya’s shirt, who flicked one of his ears.

“No.”

Trixx harrumphed and disappeared again.

Marinette looked at Tikki nervously. “Is that true?”

Tikki shrugged. “More or less. The tiers of the miracle box stack imperfectly. Together, the twelve zodiacs are comparable to the five elementals and likewise, the zodiac and elementals together are similar to Plagg and I.”

“So there’s no point searching for Chat Noir then,” Marinette said glumly. “Even if we find him, unless I’m there he’ll just tear through everyone else.”

“Not necessarily,” Longg said. “That might be true for a fully trained, mature black cat, but Chat Noir is far from fully trained and hardly mature. The fact that my Lady Kagami put such pressure on him with only my humble miraculous is testament to that.”

“I wouldn’t be so eager to send more patrols after him though,” Tikki said hurriedly. “While it is true that you could catch him, the more pressure you place on him, the more likely it is that Plagg will accelerate his training. I haven’t seen him take to a wielder like he has to Chat Noir in a long time, and Plagg does not surrender those he loves easily.”

“So we just let him go?” Marinette asked incredulously. “Tikki, the miraculous are my responsibility, and now that Hawkmoth has been defeated it’s time for them to return to the miracle box. Master Fu made it very clear that secrecy is the best way to keep them safe, and it’s worked so far.”

“It worked against Hawkmoth,” Tikki corrected. “But if you had shared identities with Chat Noir like you did some of the other holders, you wouldn’t have this issue with him now.”

“Well, it would have made him easier to track down, that’s for sure,” Alya said.

“I-” Marinette sighed wearily. “Tikki, am I doing the right thing? Is the better solution just to let Chat Noir go and take the black cat miraculous with him?”

Tikki pursed her lips. “It’s certainly a solution,” she said carefully. “But as the guardian, only you can decide if it’s the right decision. Trust your judgement.”

“Oh right,” scoffed Marinette, “because my judgement has been great so far. I’ve managed to miss whatever turned Chat Noir rogue, drove him into hiding for a year and now it’s almost gotten one of my team members killed.”

Five sets of eyes returned to Ivan’s unconscious form.

“And we still need to sort out what we’re saying about him. To his parents, to Meylene.”

“I have an idea for that,” Alya said. “I can run a cover story about him helping me with a filming project and say he protected me from a mugger. Simple and hard to dispute.”

“What about Meylene?”

Alya sighed. “I think that’s a job for Ladybug. You’ll have to tell her the truth.”

Marinette swallowed. “I’ll visit her tomorrow.”

“I will go with you,” Kagami said, her tone booking no argument.

The relief of not having to do it alone did very little to dull the apprehension and fear at the thought of facing Meylene.

“Okay.”

Nino: Hey man, something came up with “work,” I can’t make it to dinner tonight

Adrien: No worries

Nino: Thanks dude, I’ll make it up to you

Adrien stared blankly down at his phone, physically seeing the words on the screen, even as his brain failed to read them. Despite the horrible, lurching guilt in his gut, he couldn’t help but feel a small bit of relief at Nino’s cancellation. The idea of going to eat a meal with his good-natured friend while Minotaurox fought for his life in a hospital made him sick to the stomach. As it was, he doubted he’d be eating anything for a while.

The floor swayed under him. Adrien leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. The white kitchen tiles were cold through his clothes and Adrien was glad for the sensation, pressing his palms flat against the floor and sucking in deep breaths.

Calm down!

His sight blurred and suddenly he was staring into Minotaurox’s eyes as his face paled and he dropped to his knees. The dull, wet snick as Ryuko’s sword buried itself in Minotaurox’s belly filled his ears and Adrien gagged.

“Easy kid,” Plagg’s face filled his vision, brilliant green eyes looking down at him with soft concern. “Listen to my voice. Focus on me.” His kwami hummed a jaunty tune that Adrien dimly recognised as the Ultimate Mecha Strike II theme. The sight of the little god humming the tune was so surreal Adrien couldn’t help but stare.

“What are you-? How do you know that song?”

“You played that game so much I’m never going to forget it,” Plagg said darkly. “You doing better?”

“Not really,” Adrien said weakly. “Minotaurox might be dead Plagg. I might have just killed someone- another hero.”

“He’s not dead,” Plagg said firmly. “Ryuko got the call out to Ladybug as soon as he was injured. Pegasus would have him transferred to a hospital instantly, and a stab wound to the gut is hardly the most devastating wound.”

“But I-”

“Kid, it was an accident. If anything, it’s Ryuko’s fault for going apeshit at the end there.”

“She wouldn’t have gone crazy if I hadn’t taunted her,” Chat Noir muttered.

“Eh, I think she’s a little crazy normally,” Plagg said. “All perfectionists are a bit insane, you don’t wind up chasing perfection without being a little nuts to begin with.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” said Adrien.

Plagg sighed. “The price of freedom has always been high. And if freedom is what you truly want, then I can give you the ability to destroy your cages. But nobody said it would be pretty. Or neat.” His kwami raised an eyebrow. “Huh. You just got a new message. From Ladybug.”

“Claws out,” Adrien murmured.

Green lightning flashed and Chat Noir was sitting on the kitchen floor. He flicked open his baton. Dozens of unread messages greeted him, dating all the way back to the night he’d left. Sighing, Chat Noir scrolled to the top.

28 June

9:46pm

Ladybug: Hey, what happened? You disappeared on me there, are you alright?

Adrien’s assumption that he couldn’t feel worse than he already did was immediately proven wrong as the bottom of his stomach dropped through the floor.

11:32pm

Ladybug: Well, good night kitty, we should get together and celebrate properly with the team some time.

29 June

10:03am

Ladybug: Hope you’re enjoying the victory parades. I’ll be on the Eiffel Tower at noon if you want to join me.

2:00pm

Ladybug: You’re missing out, there’s a massive plate of baked goods here. Rena, Carapace and I are getting free samples.

Ladybug: I’ll save some for you if you turn up.

2 July

4:48pm

Ladybug: Hey, nobody’s seen you for a few days. Are you okay?

3 July

Ladybug: Chat Noir if you’re going on holiday the least you can do is tell me.

4 July

Ladybug: Chat Noir where are you? It’s been a week.

6 July

Ladybug: Chat, I’m getting worried. You’ve never gone silent for this long.

11 July

Ladybug: Kitty answer me!

Ladybug: Are you alright?

Ladybug: @Chat Noir

Ladybug: @Chat Noir

Ladybug: @Chat Noir

Ladybug: @Chat Noir

Ladybug: @Chat Noir

Ladybug: Sorry for the spam.

Ladybug: Please respond!

Missed audio call: 2:52pm

Ladybug: Pick up please!

Ladybug: Kitty, you’re scaring me

Missed audio call: 2:58pm

Not inclined to make himself feel worse by reading the rest of them, he scrolled past the unanswered messages that grew increasingly desperate, ignoring the awful pit in his gut. Finally he hit the latest messages, the ones sent since he’d saved Caroline and been exposed. There was only one from this week.

26 September

Ladybug: He’s alive. Thought you should know.

The statement did nothing to make him feel better. Chat Noir snapped his baton shut.

Meylene Haprele stared down at her boyfriend’s unconscious figure lying in the hospital bed. The steady rise and fall of his enormous chest did nothing to quell the swirl of fear and anger churning in her chest. Despite his size, Ivan was the gentlest person she knew. It was one of the many reasons she loved him so much. When she was with him, in his presence or his arms, she was safe. To see him, his powerful figure lying prone, pierced by cold medical machines was wrong. It sent a shot of fear through her insides.

“Chat...Noir did this?” she asked shakily, swaying slightly as the strength in her legs deserted her.

“It was an accident, a mistake in the middle of battle,” Ryuko said. “The blame is just as much mine as it is Chat Noir’s.

Meylene glared at the dragon hero. Ryuko looked just as shaken as she felt, as though she expected Meylene to start shouting at her. The fear and anger in her gut bubbled up, eating away at her. Why? It made no sense. Chat Noir and Minotaurox were both heroes. They both fought to save Paris from Hawkmoth, and both followed Ladybug into battle without question. So why? What could have made Chat Noir do this to her Ivan?

Why?

A single thought pierced the noise in her head and she latched onto it.

“If- if Chat Noir had listened to Ladybug,” Meylene said, thinking through each word as she let it out, “Ivan wouldn’t be here, would he?” It made sense. It was logical. Meylene could do logical.

Ladybug flinched. “I don’t think it’s that simple,” she said slowly.

Ladybug’s hesitation was frightening. Did she not see that by disobeying the guardian, Chat Noir had caused this? “But it’s true,” Meylene said, her voice wobbling. “Ivan was just trying to help. To follow the instructions of the guardian, right?”

Ladybug placed a hand on her shoulder. “He was.”

“Then why is he here!” Meylene shouted, fury lighting in her veins like fire, raging at the injustice of it all. Tears splashed down her cheeks, hot and unbidden. “Why is Chat Noir still out there, free to do whatever he wants while Ivan is here!? After he almost- almost killed him!”

“Meylene, it’s not that simple,” Ladybug said gently. “Chat Noir didn’t do this on purpose!”

“What does that matter?” yelled Meylene, gripping the bed rails with shaking hands. “What does it matter when Ivan is here, in a hospital bed after he got a sword to the chest!?” She shoved down the urge to slump into a chair and cry, forcing herself to stand and hold out her hand.

“My miraculous,” she demanded, staring at Ladybug through teary eyes. If Ladybug wasn’t going to bring Chat Noir to justice, she was.

Ladybug and Ryuko stared at her, aghast.

“Absolutely not,” Ladybug said. “You’re not thinking straight-”

“Chat Noir needs to be brought to justice,” Meylene said fiercely. “If you won’t do it, I will!”

“Meylene,” Ladybug said gently, “the miraculous are not weapons of vengeance. You can’t be involved in this.”

“It’s not vengeance,” Meylene protested. “It’s justice! And I am involved now, whether you like it or not! I was involved the moment Ivan was.”

“Justice would be a verdict delivered by the guardian,” Ryuko said firmly, stepping close and placing a hand on Meylene’s arm. “Who, at this point, is Ladybug. And she has very clearly forbidden you from being involved.”

“No!” Meylene exclaimed, wrenching herself away. “I need to do something! Please,” she begged. “Give me my miraculous! Let me help!”

“You can help by remaining with Ivan,” Ladybug said gently. “Keep watch over him.”

Meylene’s flash of strength deserted her at the mention of Ivan. She bowed her head, tears leaking from her eyes as she gazed at his sleeping face.

“Ladybug,” she said, voice low. “One way or another, I will bring Chat Noir to justice. With or without my miraculous.”

Ladybug closed her eyes. “Keep watch over him,” she repeated. There was a rush of air behind Meylene and when she looked up again, the room was empty.

“I’ll bring him to justice,” Meylene promised, gripping Ivan’s massive hand. It was cold to the touch and sparked a deep fear in her that even the steady beeping of the monitors did nothing to assuage.

“I swear it.”

“Okay kid, one more time!”

Adrien lunged, the wooden dowel striking against the makeshift dummy he’d propped up in the living room. He dropped into a crouch and spun, the dowel cracking against the mock knee violently. With a growl, spun the dowel over his head in a hanging parry and shot to his feet, lashing out with a vicious overhead cut.

The dowel split in half with a mighty crack, the upper half rolling across the tiled floor to rest with the twelve other broken rods. Plagg nodded approvingly.

“That’s the stuff.” He drifted down to look at the mess of splinters on the floor. “Solid oak too. You’re getting good.”

Adrien snorted, wiping the sweat from his forehead and dropping the other half of the broke staff. “It’s not enough,” he said. “I can’t beat Ryuko with just technique. She’s better than me.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got more than that,” Plagg said mysteriously.

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “Are you finally going to tell me how I managed to pull off that rally against her after she spent the whole fight kicking my ass?”

“What’s there to tell?” Plagg said nonchalantly. “You’re just stronger than she is. That’s all there is to it.”

“We’re a bunch of teenagers wearing magical spandex,” Adrien deadpanned. “The concept of “who’s stronger than who” doesn’t mean much to us.”

“Eh, half right,” said Plagg, wiggling his hand noncommittally. “Your strength doesn’t matter much here at all. My strength however, matters a lot.”

“Right,” Adrien said, grabbing a towel from where it hung over the back of the couch. “You and Tikki are supposed to be the most powerful kwamis, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” Plagg said, preening. “As Tikki likes to put it, each of us are one half of absolute power. Which is a looot more than any of the other kwamis have.”

“So that’s it?” Adrien asked incredulously. “You’re more powerful than Ryuko’s kwami so I’m more powerful than her?”

“Well, there are nuances,” Plagg corrected. “Training is a big one, experience is another and there’s always the quality of the bond between me and my kitten, but all else equal, that’s about it.”

“Huh.”

“Pretty neat hey?” Plagg said smugly. “I am a premium-quality kwami.” He rubbed his belly, eyes glinting. “Which means I need premium-quality camembert.”

“Yeah yeah.” Adrien waved at the fridge. “I stocked up yesterday. Knock yourself out.” Plagg’s answer, while succinct and surprisingly straightforward, was also remarkably unsatisfying.

The little kwami let out a cackle and disappeared. Adrien wiped the towel through his hair and made his was over to the dining table. The space normally reserved for eating was a mess of boxes, wires and various other electrical components. Adrien hummed and examined his side project. All things considered, it was coming along nicely.

“I need to find some more magnesium,” he murmured thoughtfully.

He tossed the towel aside and made a couple of adjustments to the diagram next to the nest of wires. Potential for raw power wasn’t enough. Maybe if he had years to train and a mentor to help him, but what he needed right now was an edge.

“What is that?”

Adrien smelled Plagg before he heard him; the appearance of his kwami at his shoulder was barely a surprise.

“A bet,” he answered idly, fiddling with the wires. “Something that might help me deal with Viperion.”

“Right,” Plagg said, “him.”

“Beating him in a straight fight is a rough job,” Adrien said. “In the right hands, second chance is almost unbeatable.”

“Eh, not really,” Plagg said. “It’s powerful, sure, but Sass is better for coordinating, not direct confrontation. And if we’ve gotten to the stage where Sass is being used to plan out a fight, it’ll probably involve everyone and that means we’ve definitely messed up somewhere.”

“Uh huh,” Adrien said. “So you’re suggesting if he shows up on his own I can just out-fight him?”

“Pretty much.”

“I’d rather not take that chance,” Adrien said firmly. “Considering how much it took to beat Ryuko, I’m not going to pretend that I can take on Viperion with nothing more than my baton and some pluck. This should even the playing field a bit. If I time it right.”

“Wow,” Plagg whistled. “When did you get so cunning?”

Adrien shrugged. “I am my father’s son I guess.”

Plagg shot him a sidelong glance. “Are you okay kid?”

“Huh?” Adrien looked up from his tinkering briefly before it reclaimed his attention. “Yeah I’m fine.”

“Uh huh.” Plagg drifted down to block Adrien’s view of the table. “You’ve been out of it ever since the whole Minotaurox incident.” He flew down toward the table and Adrien cupped his hands for him to rest in. “C’mon kid, spill it.”

Adrien shook his head. “I promise, I’m fine Plagg. I just need to focus on training and getting these devices finished.”

“Adrien, when was the last time you talked to anyone?”

“I talk to you don’t I?”

Plagg folded his arms. “That’s not the same. Didn’t you promise to call Clementine every week? What about Nino? I’m sure he’d jump at the opportunity to hang out with you, considering he ditched you last time.”

“Because I caused an emergency,” Adrien said harshly. “I don’t want to talk to anyone or take a break. I need to finish my work here.”

“You always want to see your friends. You almost ran away from your father because you weren’t allowed to see them.”

“I just don’t,” Adrien snapped, hurling the towel in the direction of the laundry and stalking over to the door. “I don’t want to talk, I want to do things.” He grabbed his keys from the hook. “I’m going for a run.”

Plagg frowned and zipped into his wielder’s pocket. Maybe a run would do the kid good.

The run had done little to temper Adrien’s foul mood. A scowl had become permanently affixed to the boy’s face and Plagg had to admit it was a good look, despite being so out of place on his ordinarily cheerful face.

Not that anyone could see his face right now, under the hoodie and face mask combination he wore. With only his bright green eyes visible, Adrien Agreste could navigate the streets as unmolested as any other Parisian, a technique he’d been using more often recently.

The steady beating of Adrien’s feet broke and he came to a halt, panting as he leaned against a streetlight. There was a distinct lack of foot traffic this evening and Adrien shook his legs out, allowing himself a little pleasure at the dull ache of his muscles.

A flurry of movement in a nearby alley caught his attention and Adrien turned around curiously. A large, tattooed man in a tank top and jeans loomed in the shadows holding another man probably three weight classes below him against a wall. The smaller man was fumbling for his pockets with shaky hands and the rolling anger in Adrien’s gut flared. He didn’t even bother to find cover; the black leather and steel of Chat Noir washed over him in an instant.

The smaller man saw him first and his mouth dropped open in shock. His captor shook him and muttered something in a deep, guttural voice. Chat Noir didn’t care to listen, gripping the man’s shoulder tightly enough that he let out a surprisingly high-pitched yelp. His eyes widened the moment he saw Chat Noir glaring at him and he let his victim go immediately.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Chat Noir growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder and the bigger man nodded eagerly. He made a hasty exit, stammering his apologies as he went.

“Chat Noir,” the smaller man said, “You’re here! Thank you.”

“Yeah yeah, no problem,” Chat Noir said tiredly. “Do me a favour and don’t go prowling around alleys at night. Now get going.”

The man looked ready to throw more questions his way, but upon seeing Chat Noir’s tired expression, decided against it and simply nodded, backing away and disappearing into the night. Chat Noir sighed. His detransformation was on the tip of his tongue when he caught an unfamiliar scent on the wind.

“You can come on out,” he called. “I’m in a spectacularly bad mood tonight and if I have to drag you out, I will not be gentle.”

“Why did you do that?”

Chat Noir turned to see Purple Tigress crouched on a dumpster, watching him curiously through luminous orange eyes. Her tail flicked slide-to-side as she stared at him and her ears twitched as she picked up sounds from outside the alley.

Chat Noir raised an eyebrow. “Why did I what? Help him?”

“Yeah.” Purple Tigress slid off the dumpster and sauntered up to him. “I thought you went rogue.”

“I did,” Chat Noir said slowly, shifting on his feet and prowling forward. His footsteps were light as he circled her. Not to be outdone, she matched him step for step and the two cats sized each other up. “Technically.”

“There’s a lot of grey area in that technically.”

“I’m sure Ladybug’s told you everything you need to know,” Chat Noir said, drawing to a halt and folding his arms. “You going to try and bring me in?” He cocked his head sideways, watching though glittering green eyes as she considered her answer.

“That depends.” Purple Tigress put a hand on her hip, her own eyes narrowed as she stared up at him with quiet intensity. “Ladybug’s already told me everything she thinks I need to know-”

“Typical,” Chat Noir snorted.

“-But I’d like to hear everything you think I need to know before I make up my mind.”

Oh. Oh?

That was new. Ladybug’s team usually followed orders and asked questions later, if at all. Admittedly, Vesperia had also been an exception to that rule, but Chat Noir had chalked it up to her relative lack of experience compared to the others as a newer and (younger?) holder. Perhaps Ladybug’s authority was not as ironclad as he’d thought.

“Oh Ladybug’s not going to like that,” Chat Noir said, chuckling in spite of his mood. “I’m pretty sure you’re not even supposed to be talking to me.”

“Well,” Purple Tigress replied, her fangs glinting as she shot him a grin. “You know what they say about trying to get a cat to follow instructions.”

Cat humour too? “That I do,” Chat purred, feeling considerably more charitable than he had moments ago. “So I’ll do you one better. I’ll tell you everything that won’t compromise my secret identity, and then I’ll wait right here while you decide what to do.”

“Everything?”

“What can I say?” Chat Noir spread his arms and shot her the best grin he could currently muster. “I value honesty.”

“Hm.’ Purple Tigress pursed her lips. “Alright,” she said, “I’m listening.”

Chat Noir considered where to start. “The night we defeated Hawkmoth, I killed Gabriel Agreste.”

Whatever Purple Tigress was expecting him to say, it wasn’t that. Her eyes widened and her ears flattened sideways.

“What?”

“You saw. The black storm? That was me.”

Purple Tigress stepped back, eyes wide. “Why?”

“Around the same time I discovered Hawkmoth’s identity, I lost my only parent,” Chat Noir said, squatting and leaning against the brickwork. “I went into that final battle knowing that when I next detransformed, I would be an orphan and no miraculous cure could change it.” He chuckled darkly. “I suppose I was just overwhelmed.”

Chat Noir took a deep breath.

“So after the cure had been cast, and Gabriel was in custody, Ladybug and I met on the Eiffel Tower. And she asked me to give up Plagg. Give up being a hero. Give up the last member of my family I still had.”

Chat Noir looked up at Purple Tigress, anguish in his eyes. “I couldn’t do it.”

Purple Tigress stared down at him, pity in hers. “And then you disappeared.”

“Yep.” Chat picked at his claws. “A kind man took me in when I needed it, looked past my flaws and gave me a place to sleep and a place to work. Plagg and I have been there ever since.”

“So why risk it then?” Purple Tigress asked. “You got away. Nobody was coming after you. All you had to do was stay hidden.”

“Why indeed,” Chat Noir sighed remnants of his foul mood poking up. “I’ve asked myself that too.” He clenched his fists. “Whether I’m in hiding or not, I’m still Chat Noir. I help people who need a miracle. I don’t know how to explain it.” He looked up at her. “I heard a voice in the fire calling for help and I needed to help.”

“You’re a hero,” Purple Tigress said softly. She crouched down beside him.

“Yeah right,” Chat Noir said bitterly. “I haven’t been much of hero lately. Right now I’m just a fugitive orphan- and oh guess what, I almost killed someone again.”

“Again?” Purple Tigress asked, alarmed. “Who?-”

“You know, Minotaurox?”

“Minotaurox? What about him?”

Chat Noir looked up at her in surprise. “Ladybug hasn’t told you?” Then he scoffed. Same old Ladybug, same old habits. “Actually,” he said, “that doesn’t surprise me at all. You could fill a book with things Ladybug doesn’t tell her team.”

“I’m starting to see that,” Purple Tigress murmured. “So, Minotaurox?”

“Ryuko and Minotaurox ambushed me back in Rouen,” Chat Noir said heavily. “The fight got out of hand and I got him stabbed,” he said, pointing to his stomach. “Right here.”

Purple Tigress stared at him. Chat Noir’s tail flicked in agitation and he watched her with wide eyes, as if he expected her to judge him, to lash him with harsh words and threats. His shoulders were slumped and she was sure that under his mask, dark bags hung under his eyes. Chat Noir had clearly taken the accident hard. Despite his opposition to Ladybug, Chat Noir was still a hero. Purple Tigress tilted her head sideways. She needed more details.

“With your staff? The blunt one?”

“No,” Chat Noir said, taken aback. “With Ryuko’s sword!”

“Ryuko...stabbed Minotaurox?”

“Are you being thick on purpose?” Chat Noir hissed, glaring at her. His tail lashed violently, the belt buckle clinking against the brickwork.

Purple Tigress leaned back, raising her hands placatingly. “I’m just trying to figure out what happened.”

Chat Noir’s glare eased slightly. “I was fighting Ryuko, I tripped her and she fell onto Minotaurox.”

Purple Tigress nodded slowly. “That’s...unfortunate.”

“Well,” Chat Noir scoffed, “That’s my mojo. Black cat and all. I should have known Minotaurox was there, pushed Ryuko in a different direction. Maybe her lunge would have just missed instead.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely up to you,” Purple Tigress said gently. “And you said almost. Minotaurox is still alive right?”

“Yeah,” Chat Noir replied glumly.

“He’s in good care?”

“I assume so,” Chat Noir said dully. “Ladybug is nothing if not effective.”

“Then I don’t see what the big deal is,” Purple Tigress said.

Chat Noir’s glare returned full-force and Purple Tigress wilted slightly under its intensity. Quite frankly, she was surprised he hadn’t just glared Minotaurox and Ryuko into submission.

“I almost killed someone,” he said angrily. “Again. That’s a pretty big deal. In fact, that makes it twice that I’ve almost killed someone. Maybe I should just hand my miraculous back to Ladybug, before I turn into a proper villain!”

“Whoa, hold on,” Purple Tigress said, who was more than a little unprepared for the hero Chat Noir to be in such distress. “You haven’t actually killed anybody.”

“Yet,” he replied darkly.

“Look,” Purple Tigress said, “If you ask me it just seems like bad luck.”

“Yeah, and who’s the embodiment of bad luck?” Chat Noir asked, jabbing a thumb at his own chest. “This guy!”

Purple Tigress sighed. “I’m just saying that things could be much worse.”

“Worse how? I’m on the run from every hero in Paris. I spend every second looking over my shoulder, waiting for Ladybug to drop the sky on my head and take away the last member of my family.”

Purple Tigress winced. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’ve had an awful time.”

Chat Noir blinked furiously as tears welled unbidden his eyes. “Yeah.” He let out a watery chuckle. “So, that’s everything important up until right now. You going to try and drag me back to Ladybug?”

“No,” Purple Tigress replied, grinning wryly and relief surged through Chat Noir’s chest. “This is one cat fight I don’t think I’d win,” she continued.

“Probably not,” Chat Noir said, his own grin wobbly.

“I didn’t think much of Ladybug’s plan anyway,” Purple Tigress said, setting herself down properly properly and stretching her legs out. “You fought for just as long as she did, I don’t see why she gets to decide whether you keep your miraculous or not.”

“You and Plagg both,” Chat Noir replied. “Must be a cat thing.”

“Like our powers,” Purple Tigress laughed, holding up a fist. “Of course the cat heroes get the power to break stuff!”

Chat Noir frowned, then chuckled, then a full laugh burst from his chest, taking with it a small piece of weight. “You know, I actually never noticed how similar our powers are.”

Purple Tigress wiggled her hands, miming batting something off a table. “It’s definitely a cat thing.”

Chat Noir smiled. “Thanks,” he said after a moment.

“It’s just self-preservation,” Purple Tigress said with a shrug. “I’m not too keen on tangling with someone who can take on a tag team of Ryuko and Minotaurox, and still come out on top.”

“Thanks for listening,” Chat Noir clarified. “I- I haven’t had much of that lately.”

“Well,” Purple Tigress said, shooting him a smile. “I figured I should at least give you a chance to explain.” She held out her fist. “Cat to cat.”

Chat Noir grinned and tapped his own knuckles against hers. “Cat to cat.”

The sun was high in the Caribbean sky, casting its warmth down onto the little fishing boat and it’s sole occupant. Luka Couffaine lay on his back, shirt discarded and sunglasses on as he soaked in the sunlight. Beside him, Sass curled up lazily, enjoying the sun like the reptile he was.

This was the life.

Of course, there was still training with Su-Han later, but right now? Pure bliss.

Luka was startled from his almost-nap by the sound of his phone vibrating, ratting harshly against the metal of the control panel. Frowning, he sat up and made his way over to the cabin. Who on Earth could be calling him at this time? He swiped the green icon and held his phone up to his ear, not bothering to check the caller ID.

“Luka? I know it’s been a while.” Marinette’s voice filled his ear. “But I need your help.”