10. Cross my Heart

"Okay, breathe in and calm down." Master Fu said a few drops should do it. "

Adrien raised a trembling hand to his mouth, tipping the edge of the vial Plagg had brought for him over his lips. After he felt the fifth drop of sickenly sweet potion fall from the bottle and slide down his throat, he swallowed thickly, lowered the bottle, and corked it again. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the potion take effect and feeling the last remnants of pain slowly ebb away from his chest, relief spreading down his limbs. With a sigh, he opened his eyes again.

He sat on the bathroom floor, back against the closet. He released a shaky breath, his eyes unfocused as he stared at the tiling on the floor, pointedly avoiding looking at the toilet in front of him. His skin was still ghost-white, save for the dark circles under his eyes, rivulets of sweat sliding down his temples. He sat with his legs drawn up, flexing and straightening his fingers on his knees, his shoulders tense.

"Breathe, kid…" Plagg coaxed, "Getting stressed about it will only make it worse."

"It's already worse!" Adrien cried, hiding his face in his knees and taking his hands to his disheveled hair. He sniffled, his frame trembling. Emotion dispelled any attempt at composing himself, so he let his feelings run their course, every part of him shuddering with his silent sobbing.

He was terrified.

He was bleeding. On the inside. And the pain. Oh god, the pain. The moment the potion from last night had finished flushing through his system was the moment that his pain mounted so badly that it had even bled into his dreams. It was bad enough that it woke him up, but it was even worse when he had barely managed to stand up to stumble to the bathroom.

The pain had been almost bad enough that he couldn't move.

How had it come to this? Was that really the power of the Akuma? Was it powerful enough that it could mask Adrien's terrible pain and make him oblivious to it? Had his neglect been so bad that it allowed the damage to escalate, or had he always been that hurt inside?

Was he...dying?

He choked on a sob, bringing his hands down to grip at his knees, fisting the material of his pants in his hands.

"Look, I…" Plagg started hesitantly, "I know you are scared, but it will be okay, y'know? I'm sure they'll fix ya…"

He knew Plagg was struggling with being encouraging. Tikki was the positive one; Plagg only knew how to be sarcastic and cynical. So Adrien knew he was trying really hard to be there for him, and although it did nothing to assuage his fear, he appreciated it. Adrien raised his head, offering him a weak smile, but it wavered and fell almost immediately. Warm tears escaped silently down his cheeks, his body shivering with sickness-induced cold. He brought his arms around his legs, trying in vain to warm himself.

"What am I going to do?" Adrien asked him, and his voice was so low and broken that it took everything out of Plagg not to break with him.

"They'll fix you, you'll see," Plagg repeated, awkwardly patting Adrien's head.

"Only Ladybug can get rid of the Akuma…" Adrien said softly, "What if it takes over me again?"

"Master Fu restrained the Akuma so you should be okay for now, but we do need to get you help so your body can heal." Plagg replied, resting on Adrien's shoulder comfortingly. "That way you'll be able to punch the Akuma in the face if it rears its ugly head again!"

"What if I don't get better, though? What if I can't fight anymore?" Adrien asked, his eyes glassy and his voice quivering, "What if… What if I d-di… " he couldn't finish. Another wave of fear gripped him and his eyes widened, body shuddering with the realization of what he was about to say.

"Hey, listen to me," Plagg said sternly, sensing Adrien's anxiety and flying off his shoulder to pull on his hair till he raised his head. "Stop talking like that. You're not gonna die, okay? I'm not letting you die, ever. You are stuck with me, and that's that. Understand?"

Adrien gave a watery chuckle, "Is that a promise?"

"Yeah, yeah, cross my heart," Plagg said, crossing a paw over his chest, "But only if you promise to do your best to get better and not do anything dumb and reckless that will probably make Tikki yell at us, got it?"

Adrien found it in himself to laugh. "Got it…"

"Nuh-uh, cross your heart, too." Plagg insisted, floating in front of him and crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly.

Adrien smiled, bringing up a hand to shakily brush his index finger against his chest in an x shape. "Cross my heart."

"So are we going, or what? Are you feeling well enough to walk?" Plagg asked.

"Going where?"

"Hospital, stupid!" Plagg said, knocking on Adrien's hand with a paw, "You told Master Fu you'd do it, and you just entered an extremely cheesy and extremely emotional binding contract with me so you are screwed, boy. I don't go sappy for anyone. We're doing this!"

Adrien smiled slightly, "Yes, I get it. Just… Give me some time?"

"Time is something we don't have a lot of, kid…" Plagg frowned.

Adrien looked dubiously at his arm. He grabbed the edge of his pajama sleeve and pulled it back past his elbow, revealing the ugly white scar on his right forearm.

How would he explain this? Or the burnt organs?

He traced a finger over a white tendril on his wrist.

"Look, just let me figure out what I'm going to say." Adrien pleaded, "If I go alone, they will just call my father or Nathalie and I just… Give me a day to figure it out?"

"A day. No more. And even if your dad, aka, Mr. Control Freak, finds out, you're not backing out, okay?" Plagg said, pointing accusingly, "You have me. You won't lose anything while I'm around, got that?"

"Right," said Adrien, and although he was still afraid of the possibility of losing his coveted freedom, his fear over losing his life won out. The dead could not love the living, after all, and if Adrien ever hoped to love Marinette as she deserved, and be loved back in return, he needed to be alive for that. And he had promised the Ladybug in his dreams that he'd live and wait for her.

Even though he knew she was just part of a dream, she felt real to him. Regardless if it was a just a promise to a figment of his imagination, it held unbelievable weight for him, and he would uphold that promise.

His lips began tingling as he finally gave himself the chance to recall his dream, fingers brushing tenderly against his mouth. Ladybug's sweet kiss had been utter paradise, and he longed for the day he could experience it for real, if he was allowed. For now, his dreams would do, and he'd look forward to every night to dream with her again, even if he had to down another vial to knock himself out. These dreams had become the only respite from his torment.

Adrien struggled to his feet, using the wall for balance.

"What're you gonna do now? It's Sunday, so you don't have any dumb appointments or photoshoots. It's fair game." Plagg pointed out as Adrien trudged back to his bed, back hunched.

Adrien sat down on the mattress with a sigh, grabbing his cell phone from the bedside table with one hand, and pulling the drawer open with the other. He stashed the vial inside the potion bag he kept inside, idly noticing something sparkly and green in the dark recesses of the drawer just behind the bag. Curious, he reached in blindly.

"I don't know. I think I need some air, maybe patrol a bit…" Adrien trailed off, flicking through his phone for any messages or reports from the Ladyblog, though he wasn't really paying attention. When the fingers on his other hand closed on the object he sought, he retracted his hand, pulling out something light and stringy. He turned his hand over, finding an odd but familiar charm on his palm. It was a bracelet made with red string. A big, green stone sat in the middle, decorated with pink and yellow beads on either side.

'Well, why don't you try playing with it?' The memory filtered into his mind, unbidden.

Marinette's Lucky Charm.

Adrien's heart squeezed painfully.

"I don't know if patrol is a good idea right now," Plagg said after Adrien had gone silent. "You can barely stand…"

Adrien's features softened, his fingers closing on the charm as he pressed it to his chest.

Something stirred in him, something warm but aching. He felt a craving for something, something that could soothe the longing in his chest. Something that could soften the vice around his heart. Something that could ease the sadness in his spirit.

"No… You're right…" Adrien said in a tight voice, quickly flicking up the contact list on his phone, and dialing a familiar number. "I need something else…"

She was up there again.

She sat on a metal beam, high, high above the ground, on the last deck on the Eiffel Tower, overlooking the scenery around her. She wore nothing but a light pink dress decorated with white flowers. She was completely barefoot, and her hair lay loose over her shoulders.

The cool breeze blew gently, tousling her midnight hair, her blue eyes set on the horizon. The city of Paris was gone. It was only the Eiffel Tower, standing proud in the middle of a flower field that extended eternal in every direction, the grass a bright and vibrant green.

She heard whispers in the breeze, unintelligible, but soft and familiar. She had no idea where she was, but the voices kept her at peace. At times, when she felt cold, someone would grab her hand. She would turn and look at the person, but a shadow covered their face, their features lost to her. They had a male voice. It was young, soothing, and gentle. It set her heart a flutter.

She would stand to greet him then. Although this boy was a stranger, she trusted him with her life. He'd whisper something kind, then bow to kiss her hand. She would blush as a warm feeling flooded her. He would then pull her over the edge of the Tower, gently floating down with her.

They would touch down on the grass, soft and lush.

"Princess..." was the only word she could discern in his garbled speech, the rest of the words flowing in the air with a strange echo, sounding foreign as he faded with the wind.

More voices would flow in then, and although she could not understand the words, she got their meaning. The strange thing was that smells and feelings usually accompanied these voices, and it was for this alone that she could recognize them.

When she smelled cookies and dough and felt the softness of flour under her toes, she knew it was her papa. Big and strong, but soft, like a big teddy bear. Her precious papa. She loved him so. She'd feel the warmth of his embrace, even if his arms were not really around her, but she'd feel it, and she'd smile, happy, content, and protected.

Then, when she smelled lavender and cinnamon, and felt the softness of petals from the most beautiful peach trees against her legs, she knew the voice to be her maman. She felt the sweet caress of her gentle hand against her face, and felt her warm fingers thread through her hair, although she could not see them. She would snuggle to the wind, feeling as the breeze pulled in around her as if she was but a babe again, carried in the arms of her beautiful mother, her voice like a lullaby in her ears, lulling her into dreams of being loved, cherished, and safe.

But there were other voices, some of which she couldn't place, but their scents and feelings where there, buried deep within her.

There would be a female voice. Happy, headstrong. She'd feel the tickle of dandelions on her feet, and catch the scent of hibiscus in the air. She'd feel a surge of energy, feel the brush of an arm around her shoulders, and catch the sweetness of her laugh in her ears. She would laugh alongside the voice, feeling adventurous, like she could do anything in the world. She couldn't place a face with this voice, but it felt familiar, and she trusted her.

Her voice would often be accompanied by one other, one that felt like electricity, mixed with the smell of orange and body cream. She would feel like laughing when she heard this voice, wanting to dance to a soundless tune while she felt the smoothness of a dance floor under her bare feet. A strange voice for sure, but welcome, and also familiar. Hibiscus and orange mixed in tandem in a splash of floral smells and she was happy, feeling alive and energized.

But then, there was this other voice. The voice of the boy that would float her down and root her to the grassy plain; the voice who would call her princess and kiss her hand with as much reverence as one would a Queen. When this voice permeated the wind, she felt the sweet caress of sunlight, bathing her skin in its all enveloping warmth. Sometimes, rare times, he smelled creamy, like cheese, but most times, he carried with him a scent of cleanliness, like a body fresh out of a shower, with a subtle mix of sweet vanilla and honey that flowed into her like steam wafting up from a warm cup of milk in a rainy day.

She would breath in this scent, slow and deep, feeling as though she was lying against a warm chest, the feel of fresh, soft clothing under her fingers, and the weight of warm arms flowing around her frame. She'd feel a subtle press against her cheek, and feel the waves of warmth that it would send spreading through her.

She wished she could see his face, but feeling him, smelling him, was enough. She would feel like lying on the soft grass under the spring sun that reminded her of him, surrounded in a cocoon of gentleness, feeling loved, wanted, missed...

Alya flicked through her phone with a pensive frown, scrolling down all the attack reports filtering through the Ladyblog as the bus drove down Gotlib street.

The new system she was using to file reports was proving to be extremely effective. Not only were the reports now categorized by type (Akuma attack, Burglary, Robbery, Fire, etc), but they could also be sorted by urgency (one yellow flame was less urgent, 5 red flames, extremely urgent). If the user had Location services turned on, they could even put a pin on the blog's map to locate their emergency, making it easy to track them down and allowing anyone to filter the pins on the map by type. She was pretty proud of it actually, having finished the framework in one night.

But now, she frowned not at her work, or at the quantity of situations being reported (which were more than usual now that people had gotten a hang of her site), but at the nature of some of them.

Apparently, a bunch of mysterious fires had sprouted across the city around the 17th and 18th arrondissement since early morning, their source unknown. All users could report was that a roaring sound like thunder would usually break the silence before someplace nearby burst into flames for seemingly no reason.

Such reports had continued throughout the day, making the firefighters frantically drive to and fro across the city to control the fires. But despite the dire situation, that wasn't what worried her, no. What was most preoccupying for her was the blatant absence of Chat Noir. He hadn't shown up to stop any regular crime, or at least investigate the fires. Not a peep had been heard from the black-clad hero all day and Alya was perplexed.

She could imagine the past few days had been long and trying for him after Ladybug's passing, but last week he had shown up, tired and beaten as he was, but never missing a beat. But today, it was already five in the afternoon and there hadn't been a single sighting all day.

She wondered if he was okay.

She felt it on the night of the memorial, after she had seen him break down in the arms of Marinette's mother. Something like a deeply buried instinct.

She wanted to help him; Protect him, even.

Ever since the accident, she had noticed the drastic change in his demeanor. Chat Noir used to gloat and show off in front of the cameras; social, friendly, and approachable, but now, he had become as elusive as a shadow, fleeing the scene as soon as he was done and before he could be approached by any type of media. He had isolated himself from the world, and despite his bold and encouraging words two nights ago, Alya had begun to fear they were losing him as well.

He was the one hero they had left, and she felt a fierce determination to be of utmost help to him, not only to honor Ladybug's memory, but to help out someone she thought was a lonely boy dealing with his grief alone. She wished she could talk to him, to ask him how he was doing, ask if he needed anything. Did he have any family? Any friends? Was there anyone he could talk to about what scared him? About how difficult fighting was? What Ladybug's absence felt like? It pained her to think he was completely alone.

"Give me a sign…" she muttered under her breath, scrolling past another fire report.

Her phone suddenly vibrated as a notification popped on the top of her screen.

5:12 PM Adrien : I'm here.

She quickly typed a response.

5:12 PM Alya: Ok going around the corner, be right there.

Talking about strange demeanors, Chat Noir had not been the only one acting up lately. Alya noticed Adrien had also begun to behave strangely, but she kind of had an idea why. Alya knew Adrien cared about Marinette, but she never could've guessed his feelings ran so deep to the point he had been affected both emotionally and physically by her condition. What else could it be? He had only began to exhibit signs of being unwell after they were told Marinette was in a coma. The timing was too much of a coincidence to be anything else.

Did Adrien feel something for her best friend? Her journalist heart had been prodding at her to find out, but like Chat Noir, Adrien had proven to be as elusive, rejecting any invitations to hang out, ignoring texts, and spending minimal time with them during school. He wouldn't even have lunch with them, preferring to sleep in the classroom or go home. He was not being himself at all.

So imagine her surprise when earlier in the day she got a short, vague text from one Adrien Agreste, asking if they could meet up to talk at the park beside Marinette's house. Of course Alya had agreed immediately, telling him she'd let Nino know, only to be promptly messaged back and told to come alone.

She had been taken aback, suspicious even, but when she asked if he was okay, Adrien had stopped responding. She felt a cold wave of worry ripple through her, but not matter how many times she prodded him for an answer, he would not reply, her messages stuck in seen limbo.

Well, if that was the best she was going to get, she'd bite, but he was crazy if he didn't think she'd question him all the way to next week.

That's not how Alya Césaire worked.

The bus slowed to a stop and Alya stood up, getting off at the corner around the bakery. As the bus drove away, she adjusted the purple scarf around her neck, tightening her brown jacket around her as she walked around the bend to the park. The chilly, rainy days of the last weeks of October were creeping just around the corner, prompting the switch to warmer clothes.

She looked around the park for a familiar face. She spotted him a few meters away, hiding under the shadow of the tree he was leaning against, checking his phone. Seeing Adrien be so… sneaky set off all kind of alarms in her head but she decided to ignore it for now. Approaching him amicably was better to gain his trust than outright barraging him with questions, she supposed.

"Hey!" she called, waving at him.

She saw him jump and snap his head around to look at her, eyes fearful. He only seemed to relax after recognizing her, his shoulders sagging as he let out the breath he was holding.

Damn… Alya thought.

Nino was not kidding when he said Adrien was jumpy lately. And she had to note that for a model, he looked terrible.

Despite the sheepish smile he gave her for getting startled, Alya could see that Adrien was far from okay. He was pale, and she noticed that he had tried to hide the bags under his eyes with concealer. She had to hand it to him, he was good with makeup, but Alya was even better with observation. His eyes looked droopy and tired, and his slouching stance was noticeable even with the thick black trench coat he wore.

He waved weakly at her.

"Hey, thanks for coming." His voice was so low and breathy she had barely heard it as she approached. He looked beyond exhausted.

"Yeah, no problem, um… Do you want to sit?" She said, pointing at the bench behind him.

"I'd rather walk for a bit," he said nodding towards the road around the fountain, "If you don't mind that is. I've just been sitting all day so I thought I'd walk around a little; get some air, you know?"

Get some air? You need an oxygen tank, Alya thought with a raised brow, noticing how Adrien breathed very deeply every time he spoke, as if it was a great effort.

"Are you sure? You look… tired."

"Positive."

"Alright then, lead the way." she said, shrugging and joining him at his side as he began walking down the road.

They walked in complete silence for a bit. He was looking straight ahead, lost in his thoughts, but Alya's attention was entirely on him as she observed him from the corner of her eye. She could see the occasional falter in his step, and the way he kept his lips slightly parted to breathe through his mouth.

"Nino is really worried about you, you know?" Alya said, breaking the silence, "He thinks you're still upset at him for the Akuma comment. You won't answer his calls or texts since then."

Adrien sighed, "It's nothing like that I just… I haven't been myself lately and I just thought it'd be better if-"

"You isolated yourself from everyone? I can see that's working out for you." Alya cut in, a bit harsher than she intended. She saw Adrien wince and she almost regretted it. Almost. Her desire for answers was stronger than her desire to apologize.

"I'm sorry, Alya… to both of you," Adrien said, avoiding her gaze and fumbling nervously with his trench coat pocket, which didn't go unnoticed by Alya "I've just…I …"

"Hey, it's okay," Alya said, laying a hand on his shoulder as she saw his lower lip quiver, "We're just worried about you. We wanna know what's going on."

"I've...been sick…" Adrien hesitated, and Alya didn't miss the flash of pain that crossed his features for a split second. He fumbled in his pocket a bit more desperately. "Cold, I-I guess…"

"Yeah, except it doesn't look like a cold. I'm not Nathalie, I can see right through you, you know? What's really going on, Adrien?" Alya pressed. Adrien didn't immediately respond, his breathing getting laborious and beads of sweat forming at his brow the further they walked.

Alya stopped dead in her tracks. "Hey, you okay?" she asked.

"F-Fine," Adrien said as he finally removed his gloved hand from his pocket and brought something to his mouth. He quickly took a swig from what appeared to be a glass vial and promptly hid it back in his pocket. His features relaxed considerably, his mouth parting in a sigh.

Now Alya was really concerned.

"Okay, sit." She said finally.

"No, it's fine, rea-oof!" Adrien was not allowed to finish as Alya grabbed him from an arm and dragged him off stumbling to a bench, seating him down forcefully. She sat herself down beside him, crossing her arms.

"Nino is upset you won't talk to him, and I'm upset that he is upset. Now, you texted me saying you wanted to talk, so I won't accept you getting cold feet on me," Alya said, pressing an accusing finger to his chest. "And you look like a car ran you over, by the way, so I don't think a cold is all that's been going on. Start talking, I'm listening."

Adrien blinked at her, his mouth opening and closing. "I, uh…"

"How eloquent." Alya said with an unimpressed frown, "You didn't think this through, did you?"

"No," Adrien admitted, looking down at his feet. Alya's eyes softened and she lay a hand on his shoulder again.

"Look… you know you can trust us, right? Nino and I?" Alya said gently, "You can talk to us. We're here for you, that's what friends are for. We're your friends, Adrien."

"I kn-know," Adrien whispered, fingering his blue scarf nervously. "It's just... I don't even know where to begin…"

Adrien grimaced, trying to stifle a sudden cough with his arm. He lowered a trembling hand to his pocket, taking out the vial again and giving it another, longer drink. When he was done, he let a breath out, shaking his head and blinking rapidly, trying to regain focus.

"What is that?" Alya asked him as he shakily put the bottle away.

"M-Medicine…" He said, but something in his quivering voice told Alya that wasn't completely true.

"You want to know where to start? Well, you can start by admitting you are not fine. You aren't fine, are you?"

Adrien trained his eyes on the ground, blinking hard, then, he slowly shook his head. "N-No…"

"That's why you called me?"

He nodded his head.

"Why not Nino?" Alya said gently, "He's your best friend. He has begun to think he is not good enough since you keep pushing him away. He's been really down about it."

Adrien snapped his head back to look at her with eyes wide, "No, no no… it's not him it's.. I'm just… ah…" Adrien suddenly swayed in his place.

"Hey," she grabbed both his shoulders to steady him. "What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing, I'm just really, really tired…" Adrien said, patting her arm appreciatively and straightening himself on the bench. "N-Nasty bug..."

"If you say so…" Alya said dubiously, but despite her concern, she let Adrien's odd behavior slide in favor of hearing what he had to say.

Adrien cleared his throat. "The r-reason I didn't call Nino…well, uh…"

"Yeah?" Alya coaxed.

"It's stupid and… A-and…" Adrien tugged at his scarf nervously. "This was a mistake…"

"Well, I'm here already and I'm not leaving," Alya said stubbornly, "So out with it."

"I miss her."

Alya paused, taken aback by how suddenly he said it and by how much his voice cracked. He squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly curling into himself, his hand fisting in his scarf. "I really miss her…"

He sounded so lost and forlorn, his posture hunched and defeated. Her eyes softened, her lips pulling into a small smile.

"Is this what all this has been about? You shut yourself away because you miss Marinette?"

He nodded, opening his eyes again.

"Among other… things," Adrien said quietly, avoiding her gaze, "But for the most part, yes…"

Alya nodded in understanding, coaxing him to continue by placing a hand on his back. "Alright, I'm all ears."

"It's… It's been really hard to deal with. And...I needed to talk to someone that would understand…" Adrien continued softly, his voice surprisingly steady even though he still looked beyond ill, "Nino is fantastic. He's the best friend I've ever had and he is super supportive but… I think you're the only one who would know how it feels. How do you do it?"

He turned to look at her expectantly, his eyes glassy. Alya's smile turned sad and she raised a hand, gently patting his hair. Adrien shivered, not because he was uncomfortable, but because of how warm and comforting it felt.

"I just feel she wouldn't want me to let go," Alya said, "And you have no idea how badly I miss her, too. She was my first friend. There's not a day when I don't wish she was around. In fact," Alya chuckled suddenly,"It's really dumb, but there's this thing I've been doing…"

"What?" Adrien asked, his head cocked in curiosity.

"I text her."

"You… text her?"

"I never expect a reply of course, but every day, I text her what I did throughout the day. Everything that has happened, what we've been learning at school, the movies I've watched, all the scoops I've gotten, you know, how we used to do..."

"But… why?" Adrien asked, perplexed.

"It helps to cope. Plus, when she wakes - and she will wake," Alya said confidently, "I want her to read them and see that she was thought about every day. I want her to realize how much she is appreciated and how it doesn't matter what happens, she will always be my best friend. I want her to wake up knowing she was surrounded by people who loved her while she was away."

Adrien's lips formed a little "o" and he nodded in understanding, a smile playing on his lips at Alya's heartfelt gesture. "That's actually pretty nice."

"Thanks," Alya said with a smirk, "She needs to be told often. Marinette can be quite oblivious, like someone else I know..." she looked pointedly at him.

Adrien shrunk under her gaze, "Uh, what do you mean?"

"You know, I've been wondering," Alya said quietly, putting an arm around his shoulder to prevent him from moving further away, "Do you like Marinette?"

The question surprised him and his eyes widened slightly. "L-Like her?"

"I mean, you've been acting all weird ever since the accident so I got suspicious and I was meaning to ask you that." she leaned closer to him, looking him straight in the eye with a grin, "Well, do you?"

"Alya, you are doing the journalist thing," Adrien tried to edge away, feeling like a deer in headlights under Alya's inquisitive stare.

"And if you don't want me to go full journalist, you will answer the question," Alya said, nudging his side insistently, "Well?"

Adrien took a deep breath, fingers curling anxiously around the edge of the bench. Well, this was as good time as any to get it out.

"I… I do love her," Adrien whispered shyly, tearing his eyes away from Alya's and rubbing his arm sheepishly. While it flustered him greatly, for some reason he found that getting the confession out hadn't been as hard as he expected, probably because his desperation to have someone to talk to had made him crack.

He heard Alya take a sharp intake of breath in surprise. They sat in silence for a moment; her processing the information, him waiting for her reaction.

"Those are some big words," Alya chuckled finally, giving a little impressed whistle.

"Hey, I mean it," Adrien said, his voice slightly hurt. He had finally managed to get out his confession to someone else other than Plagg and she made fun of him?

"Hey, calm down," Alya said, holding her hands up defensively, "It's not that I don't believe you, it's just that I pictured Marinette hearing that, and it was the funniest thing."

Adrien raised an eyebrow "How so?"

Alya hesitated for a bit, scratching her cheek contemplatively. She then sighed decisively.

"Well, screw it. She can kill me when she wakes up. I'll write my obituary tonight," Alya said, shrugging, "So, she's kinda head over heels for you."

Adrien felt his cheeks warm up and his ears tingle. Sure, he had heard it from Tikki first, but hearing confirmation from Alya sent a new wave of heat travelling to his face and ears and caused his heart to start thumping hard against his chest.

"S-She is?"

"She wouldn't shut up about you," Alya commented with a grin, enjoying Adrien's quickly reddening face, "Seriously, she had this list of adjectives to describe you with… it would make the French teacher proud."

Adrien shifted in his seat awkwardly. He felt something inside him stirring, like the feeling of a child being told he was going to the amusement park for the first time. It caused his heart to swell and butterflies to flutter in his stomach. A bashful smile pulled on his lips. Was this elation? He wanted to know so much more! What did Marinette think of him? What had she told Alya? His curiosity was piqued and he wanted to prod her, but he was afraid of sounding desperate.

"What uh…" Adrien started awkwardly, rubbing his neck, "W-What did she say she liked about me?"

"You want the short list or the long?" Alya grinned. Adrien only blushed more and she laughed, "Okay, so she likes that you are talented, smart, sensible, intelligent, handsome… I think she used the term like a Greek god at some point..."

Adrien's eyes widened and he sputtered, choking on his own saliva. "G-greek god!?"

Alya laughed heartily as Adrien coughed, his face beet red, "Oh my gosh, your face is gold!"

"Alya!"

"This is absolutely hilarious! I wish I had recorded this, dang…"

"Alya, stop!" Adrien shrunk into himself in embarrassment, groaning into his hands.

"Are you still regretting calling me, though?"

"I wasn't before, but now I very much regret calling you."

Alya snorted, "Sure you do, Romeo."

Adrien could practically feel the steam blowing out of his ears.

"Point is, when she finds out you feel the same, she's gonna go crazy," Alya said with a nod and a conspiratorial wink. "In fact, I volunteer to organize your wedding."

"I think it's a bit too soon for that," Adrien chuckled, but then he trailed off, his face turning contemplative as his eyes looked at the ground.

"Do you think she would be happy with me?" Adrien asked quietly. His eyes, which had previously shone with mirth despite his embarrassment now seemed to fill with doubt. He turned to Alya for reassurance, looking in her eyes for further confirmation that yes, Marinette loved him, and when she woke, perhaps they would get a chance at being happy together.

Alya's mirth ebbed away, but her smile was still there. She surrounded Adrien with an arm again, pulling him into a warm hug. He stiffened momentarily, having not expected the gesture, but it didn't take long for him to relax into the embrace with a sigh, laying his head on her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her as well, squeezing back. He had needed this. This was what he craved.

Acceptance, reassurance, support...

"I've no doubt in my mind that you would make her really happy, Adrien," Alya said, patting the back of his head. "Marinette would be amazing to you, too. And trust me, I'm not just saying that because I'm her best friend."

Alya pulled back, laying her hands on his shoulders, "She thinks the world of you, and that girl has more love in her to give than everyone in Paris combined."

Adrien smiled, nodding his head. "I know."

"So then, you must also know that if you wrong her, I will end you." Alya said, her face impassive. Adrien cowered back

"Uh…"

Alya's face then lit up with a grin and she laughed, slapping him on the back. "Lighten up!"

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" Adrien mock-lamented, shooting her sad puppy-eyes but suppressing a smile. He was happy, elated even, that he had Alya's blessing.

"You're a good guy, Adrien," Alya said after her laughter had died down. "You should do that too, by the way."

"Do what?"

"Text her what you feel, or what you are doing... Whatever comes to your mind."

Adrien felt a shiver in his neck when he thought about texting Marinette; a shiver of anticipation almost, of nervousness.

"You think she won't mind?" he asked.

"Mind? Boy, she'd go nuts!"

Adrien smiled gratefully, "Alright, I'll give it a shot."

"Good going! Now, talking about making people happy, she probably wouldn't approve of me saying this but I think you should know who really gave you that scarf." She said, grabbing the edge of Adrien's blue scarf and running a thumb over it.

"I know it's Marinette's…" Adrien said with a smile.

"How did you find out?"

"She signs her work," Adrien said, turning the end of his scarf over and showing Alya the neat signature stitched into the fabric. "I figured it out after… you know..."

"Yeah, I get it." She said, arranging the scarf neatly around his neck. Her face then turned pensive. "Adrien, I was thinking…"

"Yes?"

"You mentioned among other things earlier," Alya looked pointedly at him, her face serious, "What did you mean with that? What else is going on?"

Adrien hesitated, his eyes widening as he pulled back a little. "Uh…"

Part of him, the part of him that was tired of being exhausted, alone, and in constant pain was screaming at him to blurt it all out. Itching to tell her the truth of what was going on so she could come with him to get help, or to advise him on what to do because heavens knew he was desperate and he needed the support badly. However, the other part of him was so afraid of what could happen, of all the suspicions it would raise, of his father finding out, and now… of Alya knowing his secret, and blaming him for Marinette's condition.

He cursed at himself. It seemed that every time he explored the possible consequences of getting help, a new fear sprung up. Fear of exposing Marinette's identity by needing to reveal his own, fear of losing his freedom to his father after finding out his precarious condition, Alya hating him for not being good enough to protect Marinette...

He knew Alya had previously expressed wanting to thank Chat Noir for saving Marinette, but guilt still ate at him to this day, filling his mind with doubt and feelings of inadequacy every time he was around Alya or Marinette's parents. His heart wanted to scream "I'm sorry!" every time they were around, but his mouth stayed shut, fearful of revealing his real identity, of them finding out that he was to blame for Marinette nearly dying because he didn't push her out of the way in time…

Because just how could he explain what he was going through without mentioning how he came to be in that condition to begin with? Without mentioning he was Chat Noir?

Adrien's frame trembled, hands fisting on his knees as he avoided Alya's gaze.

"You can trust me, Adrien," Alya said gently, laying a hand on his shoulder, "I promise I'll do what I can to help, if you let me. I won't judge."

Wouldn't she? If she knew who he was, would she accept both Chat Noir and Adrien as one? Would she forgive him for what happened to Marinette? Would she look beyond the scoop she could possibly get, care for him as a person and give him the necessary support to heal his broken mind?

Plagg had told him no one could know…

But he needed someone to trust and support him so badly…

"I… there's… something…" Adrien started, wringing his hands.

His mind was screaming Shut up, idiot! No one can find out! But his heart was reaching out in desperation, clinging to the prospect of having someone to rely on, someone that could understand the responsibility of being a superhero and the burdens it entailed.

There was only so much the Kwamis and Master Fu could do. Ladybug was gone. He couldn't rely on his family, and he couldn't rely on himself...

Please, please help me.

"Y-You were right. It's not a cold..." Adrien confessed, his eyes anywhere but on Alya. "I a-am hurt… badly.." He was getting nervous, feeling the cold touch of sweat behind his neck. His hands felt warm inside his gloves and the trench coat suddenly felt suffocating.

"What?" Alya's eyes widened in concern, her demeanor shifting from comfort to worry as she seemingly scanned him for injuries. "What do you mean you are hurt? What happened?"

"I got hurt d-during a fight, because I...I'm.. I am…" Adrien stuttered, and he could feel Plagg's disapproving probing inside his trench coat, urging him to stay quiet. But screw it, he needed someone to listen. "I'm... C-Ch…"

"Alya? Adrien? Is that you?"

Adrien's heart leapt in his chest, and he almost jumped from the bench in surprise. The voice came from behind him, and he looked over his shoulder in alarm.

Marinette's mother, Sabine, was hanging outside the Bakery just in front of the park, changing the sign on the store to Closed and looking at them through the bars of the park's fence.

"Hello, Madame Cheng!" Alya called back, turning around on the bench to greet her while Adrien tried to get his heart rate to go back to normal.

"Hello, sweetheart," Sabine said, "What are you doing around here? Didn't expect to see you today!"

"Just hanging out," Alya said amicably, though she shot Adrien a look that clearly said 'we are not done here' before turning back to Sabine "Are you closing already? I thought the bakery didn't close till 8!"

"We close at 6 on Sundays," she replied, "Are you two busy? Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Alya didn't hesitate. "We'd love to! Right, Adrien?" Alya turned on him, nudging him on the shoulder.

"I… I wouldn't want to impose…" Adrien stuttered, barely able to keep eye contact with Sabine as he rubbed his arm.

"Oh, please! You two could never impose! Come on, now!" Madame Cheng said happily, waving them in.

"I really don't-"

Alya nudged him hard on the ribs, earning a painful hiss from him, "Ah…!"

Alya pulled back and stared at him, perplexed at the sound of pain and the sudden grimace on his face, "I'm... I'm sorry, are you okay?" she hurried to apologize.

"I'm… It's fine, let's just go…" he croaked, avoiding her eyes as he slowly stood from the bench, a hand immediately digging in his pocket for his medicine. He walked away from her, rubbing at his side gingerly as he drank from the vial, his expression pained. Alya followed shyly behind him, her eyes trained on the back of his head, brows knitted together in a worried frown.

If a simple nudge was enough to hurt him, Alya could not longer shake the unsettling feeling that there was something way more serious going on with him than what he let on.

"Oh dear, are you alright?" Sabine asked Adrien in concern as she let them into the living room and she got a good look at his pale face.

"I'm fine, Madame, please don't worry…" Adrien said softly, a weak smile on his lips. "I just have a bit of a cold."

"Alright, but if you need us to call your driver or anything else, please do not hesitate to ask, okay?" Sabine told him, patting the back of his head gently.

"I appreciate it, Madame Cheng." he bowed his head respectfully.

"Hello, Adrien!" Tom greeted as he walked from the kitchen to the table, laying a steaming plate of quiche in the middle of a generous serving of croissants, veggies, and sauces. "You look a bit under the weather, son, but this should perk you right up!"

Adrien smiled a little bit wider, "I'm sure it will."

After they were all settled at the table, Sabine began pouring them drinks and serving their plates while Tom chatted with Alya amicably. Alya however, would keep stealing glances at Adrien when he was not looking. He mostly lay hunched over the table, his head hanging slightly and his eyes droopy, blinking slowly. He yawned occasionally, hand going up to try and hide it. He looked worse by the minute and she was almost tempted to excuse herself to take him home.

"Adrien, would you like some quiche?" Sabine offered, standing at his side with the plate of the pastry on her hand.

"Yes, please," Adrien said, lifting his plate up to take Sabine's offered slice.

"Marinette told us it was your favorite some time back," Tom commented. "You got lucky today, son!"

"Seems I have," Adrien said with a soft chuckle, "And it is my favorite. Best I've ever tried. Your bakery is truly the best in Paris, monsieur."

"Well, I'm honored," Tom said bashfully. "That means a lot, Adrien."

Adrien jumped when he felt a hand slide on his forehead.

"You are really warm," Sabine said, her eyes gentle as she looked into his unfocused eyes. "Are you sure you don't want us to call your driver to take you home? You look really tired, dear."

"Or I can walk you home if you prefer," Alya offered.

"I'll be alright, please don't worry," Adrien said, waving a hand dismissively, "Plus, I wouldn't want to miss out on your fantastic cooking."

"You are much too kind," Sabine said appreciatively, brushing his bangs away from his sweaty forehead and resting a hand on his cheek before moving away to serve Alya. Adrien found himself missing Sabine's motherly touch almost immediately, giving a soft disappointed sigh before moving to remove his gloves to eat.

"You okay there?" Tom asked, pointing at Adrien's bandaged right hand as it came into view.

"Yeah, just sprained my wrist." Adrien said, smiling sheepishly.

"I thought that was days ago." Alya said, raising an eyebrow. "Shouldn't it be better by now?"

"Hurts from time to time, so I keep it bandaged," Adrien said quickly.

"Is that Marinette's?" Sabine asked suddenly, pointing at Adrien's wrist as she finished up and sat herself beside Tom.

Adrien looked down at his hand, then pulled slightly on his sleeve, revealing a green, pink, and yellow charm tied around his wrist.

"Ah yes, she lent it to me during the Ultimate Mecha Strike III tournament and she let me keep it," Adrien said, smiling fondly at the memory, "I've had a tough week lately so I thought I'd borrow a bit of her luck again."

"Oh, Marinette," Sabine said, gently holding Adrien's offered hand to look at the charm, "She used to believe she had bad luck ever since she was a small child. I helped her make this good luck charm when she was around 5, so she would get more confidence in herself. My sweet Marinette." Sabine blinked, trying to keep tears at bay.

"I-I'm sorry," Adrien said, eyes downcast. "If you want it back-"

"Oh, no no, please keep it," Tom said as he surrounded Sabine with a comforting arm, "We are glad that it's been of use to you. I'm sure Marinette would be really happy to see you wear it."

"It keeps her close," Adrien said with a sad smile, brushing a finger over the green stone in the middle.

"Uh, I'm sorry to interrupt, but could I borrow your TV for a minute, Madame Cheng?" Alya said suddenly, her eyes pasted to her phone as she scrolled rapidly down her blog, "I just need to check something real quick."

"Of course, go ahead! Everything alright?"

"There's been another fire," Alya said as she moved to turn on the TV on the news.

"Another fire?" Adrien asked curiously. "What fire?"

"There's been some mysterious fires sprouting across Paris all day." Tom said gravely. "It's been happening in other arrondissements but we were worried it would spread to ours."

"What?" Adrien asked incredulously, "What's causing them?"

"No one knows, it just happens, they don't have a source," Alya said, scrolling down the channels to find a live broadcast. "There's a roar somewhere and boom some place bursts into flames for no reason. The blog has been exploding with reports all day. "

The blog? But he hadn't received any notifications at all…

He quickly took out his cellphone, pulling up his notification dashboard.

Not a message.

Blood pumping in his ears, Adrien opened the Ladyblog manually, his heart immediately constricting at the sight of the hundreds of messages he had missed flooding the main page.

What the hell…?

"There we go!" Alya said as she finally landed a good channel. Nadja Chamack appeared on screen. She was standing in front of a building that was up in flames, firefighters already at the scene trying to control the raging inferno consuming the restaurant behind her. "Damn…"

"What is it?" Sabine asked.

"This one happened pretty close to here. Chat Noir hasn't shown up in this one either…"

Adrien froze. "C-Chat Noir?"

"He's been missing all day." Alya explained, turning to him, "He hasn't shown up to help with any crime or investigate the fires. He's been pretty AWOL."

"Do you think he is okay?" Tom asked, his voice low.

"I dunno. I've been hoping to get a sighting report on the blog but none so far. No one has seen him." Alya said anxiously, checking her phone. "He's gone."

"Oh, poor boy…" Sabine lamented.

"H-has anyone died?" Adrien asked cautiously.

"No one so far. Several injured, though…" Alya replied, her eyes trained on the news stream again. "Mostly lots of property damage."

Sick. He was going to be sick.

He could already feel a sensation like ice-cold water being dumped on him, his heart pounding violently against his ribcage. There had been mysterious fires and crimes all day. People had reported them, expecting him to show up. He had been gone. He had been missing in action.

People had gotten hurt.

There was no mystery behind the fire, either. He knew exactly what was causing it.

He could feel his chest tightening with his rising panic, throat tickling with the upcoming threat of a coughing bout and causing his breathing to hitch.

"I-I need to go…" Adrien said suddenly, jumping off the chair clumsily and making his way to the door.

"Woah, wait, what? Why?" Alya asked him, eyes popping open in surprise.

"N-Nathalie w-will get… wo-worrie-" The violent coughing began. He doubled over and covered his mouth with a hand, the other flying to the doorknob as he stumbled to the door. He had drank so much potion that his reflexes were slow and his head swam as he leaned on the door to regain his balance.

"Adrien?" Tom asked.

The coughing subsided and Adrien wheezed, freezing as he looked at his hand and saw something dark on his palm. If it had been at all possible, his face went whiter, eyes blown wide.

"Adrien, are you alright?" Sabine said, standing up and walking to him, her brows furrowed in concern.

Adrien looked at her, and the fear Sabine saw in his eyes made her pause, taken aback.

"I'm so sorry…" Adrien whispered, his eyes glistening as he opened the door and he dashed down the stairs, all but crashing against the front door before he disappeared into the streets.

He ran and ran, never looking back, ignoring Alya's calls. He ran until he found a dark alleyway to hide in, slinking in and leaning his back against the brick wall before his knees gave out and he slid down to sit on the floor, panting. His heart was beating hard in his chest, lower lip quivering. He wiped at his lips with a sleeve desperately, trying to brush away the splatter of red on them.

Plagg came flying out of his trench coat, green eyes worried. "Wow, what was all that about? Why are you freaking out?"

"The fires... It… it's…"

"It's what?"

Adrien turned to look at Plagg, eyes wide and glassy, pupils shrunk in horror.

"It's an Akuma…"