We'll Be Ok, You And I

The Immediate Aftermath

His breath came out in short rasps. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears.

Chat Noir landed heavy on the rooftop. The building was derelict, on the outskirts of the city and far away from everything he'd run from. Far away from the battle. Far away from the horrible, awful truth.

Far away from her.

It's ok, it's ok, it's ok. The mantra played over and over in his mind, the only thing keeping him from falling to pieces.

He felt sick. Could he be physically sick in his superhero state? And was it even possible to be physically ill from anguish? It was a question he'd never had to answer before. But, as his stomach rolled and he knelt to the ground, fists clenched on his thighs, he found himself barely holding it together.

His stomach lurched and he swayed forwards, one hand slamming onto the rooftop as he gagged. Whichever one of his powers was causing this, super strength or super fortitude, he wasn't sure. All he knew is that power was keeping him in limbo. His whole body shuddered but his super strength kept him just at the brink, not allowing him to succumb to the shock coursing through his system.

It was a long time before his breathing returned to normal. Every breath felt like gulping down water, and he was drowning; drowning in fear, in shame, in guilt.

He hadn't meant her to see him. But she had.

Ladybug had seen him detransform.

It was all over now.

For so long Chat had dreamed of revealing his identity to Ladybug. For so long he'd dreamed of dropping the invisible barrier between them, crossing that line. It was always romantic. Always a fantasy, always in the happiest of circumstances with the most blissful of resolutions. A coming together, not a tearing apart.

But as always, reality never collided with fantasy in a harmonious manner. More like a cacophony of bad notes and nightmarish chords, grating nails on a chalkboard.

She couldn't know him as Adrien Agreste, son of famous fashion designer Gabriel Agreste. She'd never know him in such an innocent manner. There wasn't any innocence left. Not now.

Pain gripped his chest, twisted its knife and refused to let him bleed it out.

"Chat!"

His eyes widened. On instinct he rose, ready to flee. He knew he'd need to face her eventually. He knew that. But not now. Please. Not now.

"Wait! Please!"

Ladybug's yo-yo wrapped around his knees and he tumbled to the ground. As much as he wanted to struggle, to run and keep running, Chat was tired. The Final Fight had been long and hard, and the exhaustion, mingled with the echoes of adrenaline, wrought havoc on his weary mind.

She wouldn't let him run from this. He should have known that from the start. And yet he had still tried.

"My Lady," he hated the way his voice warbled. "I know that this looks bad. I promise I wasn't complicit. I promise I never knew Hawkmoth was my father. You have to believe me."

To even say the words out loud. Hawkmoth is his father. They discovered that he was Gabriel Agreste, and came to know his horrific intentions, why he did such awful things...

His mother hadn't been missing. His mother had been right below him this whole time, trapped in a coma, unable to get treatment because his deranged father thought that the only cure was to use the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous. No matter what the cost, no matter what he'd needed to sacrifice in exchange.

How many nights had Adrien spent wandering his bedroom, locked away, when meters below him his own mother had been trapped in her own prison- one so horrible it made Chat want to be sick all over again? How could he ever reconcile that in his mind? How could he live with the guilt? He couldn't. It was unbearable.