18. Ribbons Part I

“I can’t believe you almost confessed to Ladybug when you were concussed!”

Adrien pressed his palms into his eyes with a whine, leaning his forehead on his hospital room window. “Wow, Plagg. This is, what, the eight millionth time you reminded me? Maybe give it another million and it will sink in. Ow!”

Plagg pulled back, poking his tongue out from between his little fangs. Fangs which had just nipped Adrien’s finger. “Don’t sass me! If it weren’t for my army of cats, Ladybug would never have spotted the trail of skid marks Derek’s car left behind. AND you would be in an even deeper mess right now if you actually admitted your identity to Ladybug.”

That much was true, but Adrien didn’t want to think too much about the implications of it all. The idea of confessing when in such a state sent shivers down his spine. 

He was tired. He wanted to go home.

Turning around, Adrien hobbled towards the bed and flopped face-first onto it with a sigh. He’d already gotten dressed into normal clothes, so lying back down felt weird. Flipping over and sitting on top of the bedsheets (which he’d tried and failed to remake as tight as they had been originally), he stared out of the window again. The morning sky stared back at him, pale blue and maddeningly normal. His parents had left the hospital an hour ago, along with the police, who’d asked him a few questions. They’d gone to make a joint statement to the media, as word had broken that he’d been kidnapped by another model and there was now a complete frenzy around the situation.

At least the media was now so focused on his kidnapping, the news about his and Marinette’s fake relationship had died down. Adrien hoped she wouldn’t be subjected to any harassment about it anymore.

When his parents left, the security guards outside his room had stayed, and he hated it. It made him feel like a cat in a cage. He wished Ladybug was there instead, but she’d left after the paramedics had taken him away.

According to the doctors, he’d gotten a lot more beat up than he’d realised. The ankle he’d landed on awkwardly was sprained and would need at least two weeks rest. He’d been kept in the hospital all of yesterday and overnight to make sure his concussion didn’t worsen. They’d also conducted some scans to make sure his brain wasn’t damaged.

Adrien had the feeling that, in any other situation, once his scans had come back clear he would have been let go. But with the ongoing investigation, coupled with his parents overprotectiveness, it seemed like he wasn’t going anywhere for the day at least.

“When we go home,” Adrien said, scratching under Plagg’s chin, “I’ll buy you the biggest, smelliest cheese wheel I can find.”

It was a thank you in the language Plagg could understand most, if the toothy grin was anything of an indication.

Before Plagg could properly respond, a disturbance outside startled them both. Adrien tensed on instinct, and Plagg hid away.

“I don’t care if you’re the freaking DGSI, my buddy is in there and IT’S VISITING HOURS!”

“Nino?” Adrien called, mouth agape.

“Adrien?” Nino called back.

“Nino!” Adrien sat up. His whole body felt brighter at his voice.

There was the sound of scuffling and a nurse admonishing them all, before the door burst open and Nino hurried in. “BRO!”

Genuinely tearing up, Adrien beamed at his friend. “Bro!”

In a feat of acrobatics Adrien hadn’t seen outside of a superhero costume, Nino launched himself halfway across the room into Adrien’s arms. “YOU’RE SAFE! YOU’RE OK!” he cried, pulling away and patting Adrien’s head gently. “At least I think you’re ok? You look ok, a little roughed up but ok.”

“I mean, if he can withstand the blunt-force bro-ness, I’m sure he’s fine,” Alya announced herself with her usual flair, settling into one of the chairs by his bed and smiling at Adrien. Her whole face softened when seeing him. “Hey hon, how you holding up?”

“With a lot of painkillers,” Adrien chuckled as Nino stopped patting him and sat in the chair next to Alya, still looking on the verge of bursting into tears at a moment's notice. This had the unfortunate side effect of making Adrien want to cry too. They had a habit of setting each other off. “It’s good to see you both.”

“Both?” Alya sat up looking around with a scowl, fingers digging into the worn wooden arms of the chair. Her head swivelled back towards Adrien like a mother owl and she grinned sharply. “Excuse me,” she hissed between her teeth.

In the blink of an eye, she’d disappeared out of the room. Both Adrien and Nino watched the open door with varying degrees of curiosity.

Another scuffle, Alya’s voice rising in speed and pitch, another nurse chastising them. The next moment, Alya returned.

And following behind her was Marinette.

Adrien’s heart plummeted to the floor at the sight of her. If it weren’t for the air being knocked out of his lungs, he would have launched himself out of the bed and pulled her in his arms, would have kissed her like a man returning from war. Lucky for them, his ankle probably couldn’t withstand that much action.

It had been an eternity since he’d seen her and so much had happened. The world thought they were dating, an idiot threatened his life and proceeded to threaten hers, and all the while he hadn’t been able to so much as call her.

He’d missed her so much and, now that she was here, the urge to hold her again was unbearable.

But he couldn’t. Not like this.

His fingers tightened on the bed sheets as she walked further into the room, not looking at him, staring at the floor. Her shoulders were up by her ears and her eyes were watery. It was almost the most vulnerable he’d ever seen her and he wanted to make it ok. A brief memory flashed of Marinette saying that she hated hospitals.

If he couldn’t embrace her the way he wanted, he could certainly make her feel better.

“H-Hey Adrien,” Marinette whispered, nervously tucking a stray hair behind her ear. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t been allowed to see her but she looked different somehow. Still lovely, of course, but different. “I hope you’re ok?”

“I’m ok,” he replied, scooching up in the bed. The sheets were now officially a lost cause. “Fit as a fiddle!”

“We ran into your mum downstairs and she said you had a concussion and a sprained ankle?” Alya replied. “Have you had scans yet? And what about the scar on your head? Did you need stitches?”

“No stitches and the scan came back clear,” Adrien placated with a wave of the hand. It looked like Alya was five seconds from mother henning all over the place. “Anyway, I thought you’d be more interested in the scoop? I did just have a mini adventure with Ladybug after all.”

A squeak interrupted the conversation and their heads turned to Marinette, who was now staring at the outside window.

“Sorry!” she gasped, smiling awkwardly. “There was a bird. Big bird! Spooked me!”

In her embarrassment, she glanced up, accidentally meeting Adrien’s eyes.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and shiny. She’d been crying.

Adrien added a gut-punch to his list of ailments. Why? Why had she been crying? Was it because of him? Had she been crying...because she was worried about Adrien? 

Or worse, because she was worried about Chat Noir? He’d up and left her in the middle of a media storm with no support, and no way of knowing where he was or if he was ok. The thought made the gut punch turn into a painful twist.

As if she sensed him reading her, Marinette took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself and staring out the window again. She stood in the furthest corner from his bed.

It hurt. It was like she didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

“So a model kidnapping another model eh?” Nino said, perhaps a little louder than normal, like he’d sensed the strange tension in the air. “I admit, I just thought he was kind of dick. Didn’t think he’d actually threaten and kidnap you.”

“He actually threatened more than me,” Adrien mumbled, staring at Marinette.

The others followed suit. Alya was the first to realise what he meant, and her mouth dropped open. “Oh hell no,” she shook her head, jumping to her feet. “He threatened Mari, too?”

“That’s low,” Nino growled.

“So your rich-boy lawyers are going to nail his ass to the wall, right? He should be in prison for the rest of his life!” Alya hurried over to Marinette, who was taken aback by the news but nowhere near the level of scared or shocked by it. They linked arms and Alya rested a chin on her shoulder.

Adrien never thought he’d be jealous of his reporter friend, but here they were. How pathetic.

He distracted himself from the clawing need to reach out to Marinette himself by thinking of Derek’s fate. A wicked grin crossed his face. “Oh trust me,” he said. “He’s going to rue the day he threatened Marinette.”

“You mean threatened yourself?” Marinette replied.

Adrien shook his head, deadly serious. “Nope. I was prepared to forgive him for being a competitive, desperate idiot for kidnapping me. But nobody threatens you. Ever.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. Heat flooded to her face and she turned to stare out of the window with the tiniest eep .

Cursing inwardly, Adrien bit down on the inside of his cheek. He’d showed his hand too much, let out too much Chat Noir and made her uncomfortable.

“That’s right!” Nino whooped from his side, offering up a fist for Adrien to bump. “Let’s get this clown and then go out for dinner to celebrate. I’ve missed you! I know it’s been, like, a few days but it feels like a lifetime!”

“Dinner sounds great. I’ve missed seeing everyone,” Adrien smiled, trying desperately not to stare at Marinette anymore, to varying degrees of success.

“Well you sure did have some great company in Ladybug,” Alya chuckled, jostling Marinette playfully. Marinette turned, offering Alya the briefest of scowls. Huh. That was weird. “We heard that she was helping the investigation.”

Marinette cleared her throat, and Ayla stopped talking immediately.

“Did you want to get out your recorder?” Adrien asked, trying to make sense of everything, and coming up blank. He hadn’t realised people knew about Ladybug’s involvement.

Alya, too, gave him a blank look. “Heh?”

“To record my interview for the Ladyblog?”

The wheels clicked into place and Alya got off of Marinette with an indignant splutter. “I’m not that kind of reporter!”

“We’re not here for a story about Ladybug, Adrien,” Nino added kindly, patting Adrien on the shoulder- a touch so gentle Adrien might have missed it if he hadn’t been looking.

“The Ladyblog can wait,” Alya said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. But it wasn’t. Not to someone like Adrien, who’d been so lonely most of his life. “We’re here because we love you and wanted to check if you were ok.”

Adrien stared down at his lap. A warm glow filled his chest. Sometimes he forgot he had friends.

“How do you feel, anyway?” Marinette asked, stepping closer to his bed and clasping her hands together. “It can’t have been easy, going through all of that.”

“Honestly?” Adrien sighed. “I just want to go home and put it all behind me now. Aside from making sure Derek faces justice-” 

Nino made a strangled noise. “Excuse me, his real name is DEREK?” he was quickly silenced by Alya’s elbow lightly ribbing him. Settling back in his chair sheepishly, Nino covered his mouth to hide his smile. But Adrien could tell he was planning a great deal of jokes about it. He couldn’t wait to hear them.

“Anyways,” Adrien continued. “Aside from Derek facing justice, all I want is to go back home. And not to my parents’ place. My own bed.”

“You miss it?” Marinette was closer to him now. Liquid heat pulsed through his skin at the sight of her and he’d realised he was lying. To go home was not all he wanted.

What was going home worth if she wasn’t there with him? She was home to him. More than any apartment could ever be.

“Yeah,” He sighed, lounging back on the pillows and staring at her with a small smile. “You should come there too.”

There was a pause.

Adrien lurched upwards, beetroot red. “I mean come to my apartment! Not my bed! Not that you should come in- I mean- TO my bed! I MEAN, umm, you should visit my apartment because you’ve never been.”

“No, no, I got what you meant, it's fine!” Marinette squeaked back, possibly turning redder than he was.

It made Adrien pause. That… was new.

He’d lost count of the amount of times he’d made a fool of himself around her, but he’d never seen her act like this. Was it guilt making her more embarrassed by his verbal blunders?

And WHAT was it that was different about her, besides her behaviour? It was really starting to nag at him.

They stayed for a bit longer, talking and making jokes. Once Nino found out Adrien hadn’t had access to his phone for a while, he immediately showed him some new memes that Adrien had missed out on. They’d all had a good laugh, and any awkwardness had melted away.

As Adrien’s parents were returning soon, they decided it was best to give him and his family some space.

“You let us know if you need anything though,” Alya said, giving Adrien a quick hug.

“I will do,” Adrien replied earnestly as Alya stepped away and Nino swooped in for a hug too.

Patting Nino on the back, Adrien turned to Marinette, who’d paused awkwardly in front of him.

He was about to say that it was ok, she didn’t have to hug him if she didn’t want to, but was cut off as she threw his arms around him.

Adrien could help but give a light gasp as she tightened her hold on him. Almost like she didn’t want to let go. For some reason, he wanted to cry. It was as if he’d been carrying this burden of panic, of stress and tension, the worry about her and the threats made towards her, and it melted away the second she was in his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into her shoulder.

“Stay safe, ok?” she whispered and her voice sounded different somehow. “Don’t get any more trouble because of me.”

“I won’t,” he lied. He’d always get in trouble if it meant keeping her safe. The scent of her shampoo filled his nose and he tried not to deliberately inhale like a creep. It made him feel a calmness he hadn’t experienced since all of this had begun.

The feeling was woefully short lived.

As Marinette pulled back, Adrien figured out what was different about her, and the calmness was replaced with an all-consuming dread.

She wasn’t wearing her green ribbons.

“So that went better than expected, right?” Alya declared, shutting the front door behind her. Having said goodbye to Nino, she and Marinette headed back to the bakery. Grabbing a few pastries, they traipsed up to the empty apartment. 

Marinette had been brave. She had managed to keep up a semi-strong front. But the second she heard the click of her apartment door close, she fell apart.

Bursting into tears, she covered her face with her hands and doubled over. 

“Oh. Oh hun come here,” Alya’s voice permeated her sadness. She was by her side in an instant, wrapping her arms around Marinette and pulling her close. For some reason, the comfort made Marinette cry harder, and she buried her face into Alya’s shoulder.

“Snotty t-shirt,” she warned Alya through her sobs.

Alya scoffed, rubbing her back. “I think you and I have both seen enough of each others snot to last a lifetime.” When Marinette gave a half-choked sob-laugh in response, Alya lifted up her chin and began to stoke her hair. “There we go, you know I’m right. Come on.”

She led Marinette to the kitchen table, where Marinette collapsed into a chair and stared out into space. After the initial burst, her tears subsided into a more pitiful stream.

Tikki floated up, nuzzling her cheek softly. “It’s ok Marinette,” she said through a yawn. “Everything will be alright.”

Marinette frowned at the little kwami, giving her a quick kiss. Tikki looked as tired as Marinette felt. She’d stayed up by Marinette’s side all night as Marinette had cried, tossed and turned, been unable to rest through the mental images of Adrien diving in front of her, the nauseating moment where she thought he’d actually been shot.

“Tikki why don’t you get some sleep?” Marinette suggested, trying to mask her guilt with kindness.

Tikki made a sound of protest and, seeming to read her mind, Alya turned from her spot at the counter. “Don’t worry,” she told her. “I’m here. Marinette won’t be on her own.”

Although Tikki still looked wary, her yawning intensified and she pressed a paw against her mouth. After the yawns subsided, she conceded. “Okay, but I’ll be right upstairs so wake me if you need me.”

When she left, the remaining pair lapsed into a brief silence. As Alya pottered about the kitchen for some wine and glasses (knowing Marinette’s kitchen well enough by this point to help herself), Marinette wondered how she’d gotten to this point. Images of Adrien plagued her mind. Adrien diving in front of a bullet for her, Adrien being strangely affectionate during his concussion, Adrien being so protective at the hospital, Adrien…

...Adrien telling her that he loved her.

The clink of a glass, the unmistakable sound of liquid pouring, and Alya was nudging some wine her way.

“You know wine really shouldn’t solve my emotional distress,” Marinette sighed, wiping her eyes and taking a large gulp.

“Sip it you heathen,” Alya chastised before pouring her a bit more to top her up. The act of being told off for not treating her wine right made Marinette feel instantly better. Seriously, how did Alya always know what to say?

When Marinette commented as such, Alya shrugged. “Well, duh, of course I know how to make you feel better. We’ve been friends for a bajillion years.” She sat down in a chair opposite to Marinette, placing the plate of pastries between them and picking up her own glass.

They munched and sipped in silence, Alya giving Marinette some much needed time to calm her tide of tears. She was grateful for that.

After a few minutes, Marinette placed down her glass and put her heels on her chair, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Adrien told me he loves me.”

At Alya’s sounds of distress, her head snapped up. Just in time to see her friend choking on a bit of pastry. Alarmed, Marinette’s only thought was to lurch forward and offer Alya more wine. But Alya held up a finger and she waited for the coughing to subside instead.

“Warn me next time!” Alya cried, her voice raspy, and poured herself another glass.

Marinette settled back into place on her chair, offering apologies.

“So, how did he tell you? I’ve had a feeling he’s crazy about you, but I never wanted to say anything. It’s his business to tell you, you know?” Alya replied, another reminder of her personal growth. Back when they’d been kids, the second anyone revealed their crush on Marinette, Alya had instantly told her. “Plus you have your thing with Chat Noir.”

Marinette winced.

“Ok WHAT was that?” Alya put her glass down, lips pressed thin in her scrutiny. “Has something happened? Did you two break up?”

The words ‘break up’ hit Marinette like a… well like a bullet. Between seeing Adrien, the thing with Chat, and the stress of visiting a hospital, it all became too much. A fresh wave of tears fell from her eyes and she curled in on herself.

“I don’t know,” she admitted in a trembling voice. It was a horrible, terrible truth. A strange sort of limbo. “I don’t know and it’s killing me. I haven’t seen him since the social media storm over mine and Adrien’s fake relationship. I don’t know if he’s angry with me, if he’s off somewhere heartbroken, or worse.” She trailed off, staring at her wine glass. Alya filled it without hesitation. “What scares me the most is that he didn’t show up to any of the bodyguard meetings. He wasn’t there to help me protect Adrien, he wasn’t there to help when Adrien got kidnapped and almost shot. And why? Is it because he’s in trouble or is he just being petty? He always tells me when he’s going out of town, as Ladybug I mean. That’s why I’m scared.”

“And then there’s Adrien,” Marinette trailed off staring into her wine glass. “When I was watching him as Ladybug, he told me he’s in love with me. Me-me, not Ladybug me. He was all ‘I’m in love with Marinette’ and I was like ‘WHAT’ even though I had to stay quiet. But now so much of his behaviour makes sense, and Alya? Alya, he dove in front of me to protect me from a bullet. That’s how he got a concussion! After I rescued him, I went home and saw he’d sent a text before he got kidnapped. He was warning me that I’d been threatened too, and I think he got kidnapped on his way to check I was ok. And where was Chat through all of this? I have no idea. I’m just so confused.”

There was silence. Alya slumped back in her seat, exhaling a large puff of air, her eyes wide.

“We’re through the bottle,” she said, looking at the now empty wine bottle.

They stared at each other. A silent conversation.

Marinette stood up and grabbed a new bottle.

“A terrible, excellent decision,” Alya nodded in approval.

They were a little ways through the second bottle, Marinette feeling a warm buzz in her mind and heart, when Alya turned to her. “So what are you going to do? About Chat? When he comes back around again.”

“If he comes back you mean,” Marinette sulked. The warm feeling dissipated and she stared at the table morosely.

Alya scoffed. “Of course he’s going to come back. He loves you. Even if the reason he’d kept away is because he thinks you’re in a relationship with Adrien, he’ll come back. He’ll want answers.”

The idea that he wanted answers, as if Marinette had done something wrong and she needed to prove her innocence, made something inside her snap. 

Her shoulders raised and she slammed down her wine glass, a few drops splashed onto the table. “He’s the one who needs to give me answers! He needs to tell me why he abandoned me! ADRIEN COULD HAVE DIED because Chat wasn’t there to back me up! But you know what? Maybe I don’t want to hear it! Maybe I’m tired of being in a relationship full of half-truths. It’s not a real relationship is it? How can we really love each other like this? If one of us can ghost the other so easily! That’s not a relationship, that’s not real love! It’s a fantasy!”

Picking up her wine glass again, Marinette finished the last few sips. The more she sipped, the angrier she became. Wine fuelled her rage, where it usually served to mellow her out.

She stumbled up to her room, with Alya on her heels. When she got there, Marinette pulled out her stationary and began writing.

“What are you doing?” Alya asked, curious more than accusatory.

“I need a break,” Marinette said as she scribbled away. “I need a breather from all of it. This has been… a lot.” A gentle hand pressed against her shoulder and she sighed. “I just… need a break. I need some time to sort out my feelings, my head is all messed up.”

Once she finished the note she stared at it, before staring up at the door to her balcony.

“I really need a break.”

Alya read the note over her shoulder. “You sound like you’ve made up your mind, and if you need a break then I know the perfect thing. Come on.” She grabbed Marinette’s hand. “Sleepover?”

Marinette paused. Although the idea of a drunken sleepover with her best friend was heaven right now, she needed to do one last thing.

Placing her note in a little envelope, she put it in a protective plastic wallet (in case it rained) and climbed up to her balcony.

Pausing for a moment, she stared out at the railings. That was where her and Chat had kissed for the first time…

Her heart cracked but the wine flowed through her body, urging her on.

Taping the note down, Marinette went back inside and locked the door behind her.

The sound of Hawkmoths’ return, wreaking havoc and destruction on the city of Paris, roused Marinette from her sofa-bound slumber and she groaned.

At least, that was what it sounded like to her hungover ears. In reality, her father had just turned the coffee machine on.

“Pa- pa ,” she croaked, trying to sound disapproving but letting out a pathetic whine instead. “Please.”

“Morning Mademoiselle Drunkinette!” Tom chirped and Marinette cringed. Sitting upright, she ran a hand over her face.

Everything hurt.

“Coffee? I hear coffee,” Alya sat up beside her, mumbling. The back of her short hair was sticking up in funny angles and her glasses were knocked askew. 

They’d spent the night in the living room, drinking more wine and watching a strange mix of cheesy romance films and even cheesier action movies until they’d fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of streaming Die Hard 18: Die Hardest at the Dying Death or something. Marinette lost track of what they’d actually watched.

Alya slid off the sofa in a way that reminded Marinette of a very sleepy snake, before zombie-walking over to the kitchen where Tom was in the process of making cups of coffee.

“So did you girls have fun last night?” Tom’s voice boomed, and Marinette dragged the blankets back over her head with a groan. “I’ll take that as a yes. Though I’m offended you watched Bridesmaids without me, so I’m going to grind some coffee beans now! Make a fresh batch!”

“NO!” Marinette and Alya both cried. The idea of the coffee grinder, screeching in all its glory, made them both want to be sick.

Tom laughed, grabbing his fresh cup and heading out the door, stopping to press a gentle kiss to Marinette’s forehead. “I brewed a fresh mug for you. It’s on the table. Feel better soon.”

Marinette thanked him, but only braved getting to her feet when he’d left, just in case Troll Dad returned with a vengeance.

“Why are wine hangovers the worst?” Alya grumbled, sipping at her coffee and checking her phone. “I never feel this way when I have cocktails.”

“Because we’re French. We abused the wine by not savouring enough. The French wine gods. They punish us for our crimes,” Marinette replied, shuffling into the kitchen and grabbing the mug her father had left for her, taking her first glorious sip of coffee for the day. She leaned against the kitchen counter and tilted her chin back with a sigh.

Alya chuckled, then pressed her hand to her forehead and sank down to the kitchen table. “Oh don’t make me laugh, it’s too early,” she whined. Then her eyes lit up and she smiled. “Good news! Nino messaged to say Adrien got let out of the hospital yesterday. He’s totally clear and ready to go home.”

But Marinette hadn’t heard a word beyond ‘Adrien.’ His name triggered a wave of memories, the anger, the confusion, the hurt she’d felt yesterday… all of it coming to a head as she’d written a note to Chat Noir- telling him to leave her alone for a while.

“I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want Adrien to be released from hospital?” Alya frowned.

Marinette glanced down at her coffee and sighed, deflated and hung over. “What? No, I mean the note I wrote to Chat last night? Ugh what was I thinking! Of course I don’t want him to give me space. At least not before we’ve had a chance to discuss things first. I mean, I do need some space because he’s hurt me a lot. But I should at least talk to him and tell him why. Before all of this, I wanted to tell him my identity, and I still want to do that. I guess I should just sit down and properly discuss it with him first, and then we can go from there. We’ve been through so much together, as Ladybug and Chat Noir I mean. He deserves more than a stupid note like we’re teenagers! God!”

“I mean you were pretty drunk at that point,” Alya shrugged. “You know I’m here to support you whatever you decide. And, to play devil's advocate, it’s perfectly reasonable to leave him a note when he’s ghosted both you and LB.”

“Yes but two wrongs don’t make a right, in this instance,” Marinette put her coffee mug down and made her way upstairs. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“I’ll be here, praying for death,” Alya replied, waving a hand before pressing her head to the table with a dramatic moan.

Marinette sighed again. As she semi-crawled her way up to her room, her body screamed at her to get some rest, collapse onto her bed and simply forget everything.

Tikki flew down to her, worrying at her lip. “Marinette there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Hold on Tikki, I have to get the note I left Chat Noir last night,” Marinette interrupted, opening the latch and climbing up onto the balcony. “Owwww,” she hissed, covering her eyes as the sun assaulted them.

Tikki followed her out onto the balcony. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I think Chat Noir was here last night.”

Marinette’s blood went cold.

No.

No it wasn’t possible.

Without another word she slammed the top of the balcony door down, only to confirm, with absolute horror, what Tikki had said.

It was true.

Chat Noir had been there.

The note was gone.