Chapter Text
Chapter 1
♪♫ Easier to Run ♪♫
The soft brush of Marinette’s fingertips on the nape of his neck should have been relaxing, but Adrien was still on edge. It was a losing battle really. Laying against her chest on the couch, while she played with his hair, warm and safe. Last summer, Adrien would have considered it bliss and fallen right asleep, but he didn’t want to close his eyes, a fact that became increasingly frustrating the sleepier he felt. He could tell her to stop, but after 3 months apart, the last thing he wanted was to let go of her, even if the steady rise and fall of her chest only made his eyelids heavier.
A laugh track played from the sitcom on the living room TV Adrien had stopped watching, a heavy fog descending over him. His eyelids drooped, his vision clouding over. He took a sharp breath to wake himself up again, but the effect lasted less than a second. It had been a long day—leaving the mental hospital, saying goodbye to his mother, Nathalie, and Master Fu. Plus, M. and Mme. Dupain-Cheng cooked him a feast worthy of a king to celebrate his homecoming. He really shouldn’t have eaten that extra slice of cake. The sugar-high he’d been riding was about to run out, and he was crashing fast. He cursed himself when Marinette nuzzled closer, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, and his exhaustion took control.
The blackness was nice at first, but purple light filled his mind, flashes of deep grey eyes glaring up at him. His eyes flew open with a jolt, and he let out a sigh.
“You okay?” Marinette asked.
She was as perceptive as ever. It was one of the things he loved about her, but it made it hard to maintain the mask.
“I’m fine.” He assured her.
“Are you ready to go to bed?” She shifted to look him in the eye.
He smiled up at her and shook his head. “I don’t want to get up just yet. Let’s just stay like this a while longer, please?”
Marinette searched his expression, blue eyes filled with worry. She laid back down after a moment, seemingly appeased, and Adrien’s battle against his eyelids resumed. When he was in the hospital, he could pace in the privacy of his room or call in a nurse if his nerves became too much to bear, and although he knew the Dupain-Cheng’s would be supportive, he couldn’t bring himself to tell them about the nightmares. He was already burdening them enough.
A couple minutes passed—or maybe it was twenty—and Marinette clicked off the TV. Adrien sat up, stifling a yawn as Marinette stretched. His phone read midnight, the start of a new day. The second longest day of his life was officially over, but the sleep haze only brought with it flashes of things he’d rather not think about.
“We should go to bed,” Marinette said, her voice low and gravelly.
“Or we could stay up and play video games.” Adrien flashed her a grin, but she wasn’t biting.
“I’m exhausted, aren’t you?” She stood up.
“Oh, come on. It’s been months since you’ve kicked my butt. Just one round.” He took her hand, tugging her back to the couch, but she stood her ground.
“I’ll kick your butt tomorrow,” she said around a yawn. She stooped to give him a quick kiss, smoothing her thumb over his lips. “Good night.”
Adrien sighed as she headed for the stairs, jumping up to chase after her. “Wait, give me a real kiss good night.”
She paused on the bottom step with a moan, and Adrien flashed her a pleading look. A coy smile curled on her lips as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He pulled her in, kissing her long and deep, but as his lips parted to invite his tongue into the equation, she pulled back with a giggle.
“I love you so much, but I’m way too tired for that. I’m falling asleep on my feet,” she said.
“Five more minutes.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “I’ve missed you.”
With a relenting sigh, she leaned in again, running her fingers through his hair. He held her close, memorizing how her body felt against his. It wasn’t completely deceptive. He had missed her, achingly so, but her pity only lasted another minute.
“Go to bed, minou.” She squished his cheeks together. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Oh, come on. We used to stay up later than this talking on the phone.” He teased. “You’ve gotten soft.”
“Bold talk coming from M. Bloodshot-Eyebags.” Marinette cocked a hip. “Why do you want to stay up so bad? Do you not like your room?”
“No!” He insisted. “No, it’s perfect. I just… You’re right. It’s late. We should go to bed.”
Marinette quirked a brow, so he leaned in to kiss her.
“Good night, mon ange.” He flashed her a smile that faded the moment she turned around and headed up the stairs.
Rubbing his hands on his soft pajama pants, he stared down the dark void at the bottom of the stairs that led to his room. Stony eyes flashed in the abyss, and Adrien averted his gaze with a huff. Squeezing his eyes shut, he mentally sifted the image from his brain. He couldn’t stay awake forever. Shaking himself to relieve the tension in his shoulders, he made his way down the stairs, making a pit stop to the bathroom, but he could only scrub his teeth for so long before he ran out of toothpaste on the brush.
Reluctantly, he found his way into his room, but unable to bring himself to get in bed, he opted to pace instead. It got old quick—4 paces from the door to the wall, 5 paces length-wise. For the first time, he missed the massive room of his childhood. He could pace for hours there. With a defeated grunt, he flopped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The bed was comfortable, and although his muscles were screaming to melt into its embrace, he couldn’t give in.
The old building creaked, and the thin walls did little to drown out M. Dupain-Cheng’s snoring. Adrien drummed his fingers on his chest, curling and uncurling his toes before jumping up and resuming his pacing. 4 paces across, 5 paces deep. 4 across, 5 deep. The walls were too close. Adrien swore they got closer with each lap, and the air in the room seemed almost too thick to breathe. He needed to get out.
Stepping with the balls of his feet, he quietly crept back upstairs to the living room. He took deep breaths, running his hands down his thighs, and paused at the base of the stairs leading to Marinette’s room. M. and Mme. Dupain-Cheng would be upset if they caught him up there, and the last thing he wanted was to make them think he was taking advantage of their hospitality. But he just needed to be near someone.
Just one more kiss good night. That was all he needed. A hug and a kiss… a really, really long hug.
His feet found each step with haste, but when his hand curled around the trap door handle, they locked into place on the final steps. Hands clenched tightly and feet glued to the stairs, Adrien stood frozen like a statue in a museum. His breath hitched, a trembling hand shooting up to catch it. His shoulders shook, and for a moment, he worried he might be sick. Creeping back down the stairs as quietly as he could, he scrambled for the kitchen sink, breaths rapid and shallow. He flicked on the faucet in anticipation, but the sensation passed after a few moments. He sat up, turning the water off, and ran his hands over his face.
It was selfish… He was being selfish, always running to Marinette with his problems. And she’d always do her best to fix them because that’s the kind of person she was—always looking out for those she loves. But he couldn’t expect her to fix everything. Even still, his restlessness showed no signs of ebbing. He needed fresh air to clear his head. Just for a minute.
He found a black Marinette branded hoodie in the closet in his room and pulled it on, then laced up his sneakers. Locking the front door behind him with the key M. Dupain-Cheng gave him earlier, he headed down the stairs and out into the night. The brisk cold almost sent him right back inside, but the air was so much clearer. He blew warm breath over his hands and rubbed them together. Summer was a distant memory in the mid-December frost.
Tucking his hands under his arms to keep them warm, he paced the sidewalk in front of the bakery, hoping the movement would warm his muscles. Just one minute, then he’d go back inside. A breeze blew past, cutting right through Adrien’s hoodie, and he ground his teeth together to keep them from chattering. He needed to move faster to stay warm. A quick run would do the trick, just around the block. Then he’d go back inside.
He picked up the pace, venturing down the pavement with increasing speed. The dreary streets were empty as Adrien ran, street parked cars that had long gone cold as their owners fled indoors. He ran past Francois-Dupont, flashes of his time there playing in his mind. He remembered his first day, how nervous and excited he’d been to meet people his age. To have a normal life. A life he’d still never quite managed… but he’d met Marinette there and Nino. And Plagg… The day Ivan was akumatized.
Adrien’s mind filled with gray, and he shook his head to clear it, pushing his legs to run faster as if he could put physical distance between him and the memory. He rounded the next corner and pressed on, cold air burning his lungs, but he couldn’t stop. Not when he passed Nino’s block or his old Chinese tutor’s house, not even when he passed the street corner he and Ladybug used to meet up at. The corner he and Marinette would meet at.
Marinette… Ladybug. His partner. His girlfriend. He wanted to see her, but it was too late. She’d be asleep by now, and he shouldn’t disturb her. Even if she’d understand and listen. Even if she’d hold him and comfort him. Even if she loved him. She’d always love him. So, why couldn’t he tell her he was struggling?
The rubber soles of his shoes skittered on a patch of ice, losing their traction, and Adrien hit the cold, hard pavement with a yelp. Pain shot up his leg as his knee collided with the concrete. He rolled onto his back, chest heaving with each breath as he stared up at the towering buildings blocking the night sky.
What was wrong with him? Why was normal so hard for him? Normal people were at home asleep at this hour, and Adrien Agreste was outside, lying in the middle of the sidewalk because he was too anxious to close his eyes. Everyone kept asking him how he was doing, and most days he told them he was getting better because that’s what they wanted to hear. But was he? Some days he felt like he was, but others… They all wanted him to be fine. He wanted to be fine. He coveted their normalcy, but it always hovered just above his grasp.
He wanted to go to school and make friends, but his father forbade him from seeing them most days while plastering his image on every billboard in town. He gained fans and wealth, while other kids played games at the park. He became a superhero with a double-life, fighting bad-guys between fencing lessons and modeling gigs. Other kids ate dinner with their families. He filmed movies that normal kids went to see, posed in clothing ads that normal people bought. His father spent the majority of Adrien’s life making sure he stood out from all the rest — making sure he’d never fit in. He became a supervillain that threatened the city, just to ensure Adrien would always be talked about. To ensure that he’d never be normal.
Everyone put him on a pedestal, but he’d trade everything to be the one looking up from the crowd. To not have to feel the way he felt. To be home in bed with pleasant dreams instead of lying haunted in the middle of the sidewalk, staring up at his ghosts in the rooftops.
He missed Plagg.
“Having trouble sleeping?”
Adrien shot up, blinking at the arms crossed in a bright pink coat. Clouds of steaming breath billowed from her mouth with each heave of her shoulders, cheeks flushed from the cold. Fuzzy pink pajamas were stuffed haphazardly into winter boots, and the blue eyes looking down at him were creased with concern.
When Adrien remained quiet, Marinette shifted her weight. “Me too.”
Adrien balled his hands into fists at his sides. “How did you find me?”
“I heard you downstairs, and I got worried. When I came out of my room, you were heading out the door, so I followed you. It’s a lot harder keeping up with you without superpowers, but I’m kind of an expert at following you.” She crouched beside him, brushing his hair out of his face as she cupped his cheek. “You okay?”
He leaned into her touch, a hot tear slicing down his cheek. He couldn’t tell if he was relieved or embarrassed to have been found out. Mostly, he just loved that she cared enough to chase after him. At the shake of his head, Marinette pulled him into her arms, and he locked his arms around her waist, his quiet sobs muffled by her thick coat. He savored her warmth, a shiver creeping up his spine.
“No one expects you to heal all at once, Adrien,” she murmured in his ear. “I will always be here for you, and so will Maman and Papa and all of our friends. We all love you, and we’ll be with you every step of the way through all of the good and the bad. You don’t have to run and hide.”
“I’m sorry.” His voice shook. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m-”
“It’s okay.” She squeezed him tighter. “I’ve got you. Always.”
Always.
Marinette pulled back, taking his hands in hers. “Come on, let’s go home. It’s freezing out.”
“Yeah…” Adrien let her help him to his feet, wincing against the pain in his knee. He did his best not to limp on the way back to the bakery, keeping a tight grip on her hand.
Marinette shook herself when they were back inside. “The good thing about living above a bakery is the brick ovens keep the building warm in the winter.”
“I’m partial to the lingering smell of fresh croissants,” he said.
“That’s another plus.” She flashed him a smile, and he felt one tugging at the corners of his own lips. “Come on, let’s get you in dry clothes.”
She toted him up to the apartment, only letting go of his hand when he needed to change, but her fingers trailed up his bare back as she helped him out of his shirt. He shivered, goose bumps dotting his skin while she helped him into fresh pajamas. Her hands were small and dainty, but they kept him grounded enough to crawl into bed. Marinette laid beside him on the edge, running her fingers through his hair. He really had missed her touch.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked.
“Anything,” she said.
“What are your nightmares about?”
She paused mid-stroke, her fingers warm on his scalp. Shifting to look him in the eye, she pursed her lips. “It’s always that same day. You’re there crying on the ground, but I can’t ever reach you. No matter how hard I try, you’re always just out of reach.”
“For me, it’s my father. The moment that purple light fades, and all I see are his eyes glaring up at me with hatred and anger. I see those eyes everywhere, like he’s still looming over me. It feels like I’ll never be free of him.” Adrien squeezed her hand.
“We’ve been through too much,” Marinette said. “But we survived. Miraculously.”
“Barely.” Adrien grunted. “Is it weird that I miss how things used to be? For the longest time, all I wanted was to defeat Hawkmoth with you. To ride off into the sunset when the day was saved. It sounds selfish, and maybe it is, but now, I wish things could go back to the way they were. Fighting by your side, both in and out of the mask. I’d never been happier.”
“I know what you mean.” Marinette resumed playing with his hair, and after his stint out in the cold, he was grateful for her warmth. “For the longest time, I always thought that Hawkmoth was our biggest enemy, and that once we defeated him, things would go back to normal. We could be happy and free, but everything has been way more complicated on the other side of things. Those days seem so simple now.”
“Nothing’s simple anymore.” He sighed. “Do you think it ever will be?”
“Mmm.” She hummed. “I hope so. I think you and I more than deserve it.”
“Yeah…” He stifled a yawn.
“You should get some sleep. It’s been a long day,” she said.
“Will you stay with me?” he asked.
Marinette leaned to kiss his forehead and laid her head beside his on the pillow. “Of course, chaton. I’m here.”
Reluctant, but too exhausted to fight it any longer, Adrien closed his eyes. His body ached from his fall, but the bed was soft and warm. The steady brush of Marinette’s fingertips on the back of his neck helped ease the tension in his muscles, and he finally drifted off to sleep.
His nightmare began as it always did, but instead of shying away from his father’s piercing gaze, Adrien reached for Ladybug’s hand. When he turned to face her, her mask vanished in a flash of pink light, and Marinette smiled back at him. He wrapped himself in her embrace while she stroked his hair, warm and safe.
“I’m here, kitty. I’ve got you. Always.”
