summary: Four years years ago, Marinette left Paris. Four years ago, Marinette left Ladybug behind. Four years ago, Marinette didn't say goodbye. And now she's going to pay the price. angstish ladynoir and marichat. au. older!marinette&adrien.

pairings: all the variations of marinette and adrien.

sidenote: this was originally supposed to be a secret santa gift but i felt bad so imma post it here pls tell me i suck

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"Mom," her voice croaked out, her hands reached forward to touch her mother's face, afraid that she would fade into the pale sheets of the hospital bed if she waited even a second longer.

"My daughter," her mother gave her a watery, weak smile. "I've missed you."

"Me too," Marinette gasped, seeing her strong mother in such an ardent state of weakness set her eyes ablaze, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair - "I didn't mean to leave so suddenly, I'm sorry-"

"Shhh," her mother consoled, lightly sliding her hand across her daughter's silky, long hair, now dipping to her lower back versus the way it used to sweep across her shoulders before she left Paris. "You were chasing your dream, Marinette. I understand. I'm so - so proud-" her mother stopped speaking in order to cough violently, the sides of the bed shaking with her tremors. Tears shrouded Marinette's vision and she frantically tried to swallow the harsh lump in her throat - she had to be strong, she had to be strong for her mother, and for her father, too.

"Mom, don't worry - I'm gonna be here, right by your side," she inhaled erratically between each word, struggling to maintain equilibrium in tone as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

Her mother's hand lingered on her cheek and she gave her a grateful look. They could do it - together they could.

"Thank you, Marinette." Her father told her after they had been excused from her mother's room due to her exhaustion. His voice was whispery and hoarse. He'd been crying, too. "Thank you so much for coming, I know you're busy, and I know you're living your dream, but-"

"Dad," Marinette interrupted him hastily, "it's fine, I had to be here. I can work from Paris for the next few months, it's fine, Miss Lenden approved it."

Her dad smiled nostalgically. "Maybe I shouldn't keep you then, I heard you'd rented an apartment? Are you sure you don't want to stay at home? We can get your room ready-"

"It's fine, I'll be working late most nights anyways." Marinette reassured him. It was true - it was hard enough getting an actual break from Miss Marina Lenden, world renowned fashion designer and diva - but after months and months of interning and pandering and holding her tongue, Marinette had climbed the ranks high enough to hold her position even in adversity. She'd survive - she always did.

"Goodnight, dad." she told him tightly, wrapping her thin arms around his broad shoulders and pressing a loving kiss to his cheek. That was what she was here for. Support.

As she walked home from the hospital, streets lulled to sleep by the stars and eyes soaking up the sights of what she used to call her home, she watched the buildings pass with a lonely, longing regard. She'd missed Paris. She'd missed the sights, the smells, the feeling of the roofs under her feet as she'd swing from building to building - not a care to be spotted.

Back when she was Ladybug - so much more than plain, aspiring Marinette Dupain-Cheng, she seemed to hold the world in her hands back then, when she could be more focused on winning the heart of a simple boy than winning the trust of her employer.

Her life had been forever derailed since that day – four years ago. She had only been eighteen, but she knew. Paris couldn't confine her, she needed to leave.

…And so, she did.

With spirited goodbyes that lasted as long as sugar tasted, she took the first train out of Paris, to Milan Italy, where she began working for her dream – to become a world famous fashion designer.

Of course, with four years in and nothing to show for it, that sailed her ship off course, but now that she was working under and closely with Marina Lenden…it was only a matter of time.

She just needed to wait for it.

Shadows danced across the windows of the buildings she passed, shapely, like they were moving on their own instead of with her.

And…she could've sworn, that just in the corner of her eye, a black cat patrolled the city – watching&protecting its claim. Now that brought back memories. Memories of the boy she never got to say goodbye to.

She glanced downward and sighed. That didn't matter now. All she needed was her mother's recovery, and enough time to make her mark on the world.

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"Marinette," Tikki warned, eyes hazy from the lack of sleep. "It's 3 am – why are you still awake?"

Marinette blinked at the clock, surely she was mistaken.

The numbers glared brightly in contrast to the plain atmosphere of the apartment. 3:18.

"I…just need to finish this last document for Miss Lenden, then I can sleep." She told her. Tikki sighed.

"You've been working so hard, you're clearly stressed out. You should take a break and relax tomorrow." Tikki advised her. Marinette gave her a small nod.

"That sounds amazing, but…" she trailed off, staring at the piles of papers spread thin across her desk. "I don't know if I'll be able to…"

Tikki jumped onto her shoulder and pressed her head up against Marinette's neck. She sighed and patted her kwami on the head before yawning. The glaring streetlight had been itching at her eyes for the past hour, and she was aching to go to sleep, even though she still had a few more papers to sign off on…just a few more…

Her gaze flickered to her bed. But then again, just a few papers could wait until morning, right?

Deciding to heed Tikki's advice, she stood up and stretched her weary limbs, before moving over to the shades to close them. Her hair, still curling from her shower (where she had cried for twenty minutes straight – seeing her mother so physically drained took a toll on her, too) swept across her shoulders and smelt like jasmine. At least she felt clean.

Her hand grazed the shades and she was about to pull them down before she stopped dramatically, staring up at the opposite building in awe.

A shadow stood at the top, standing tall and luminous, like a statue of grace.

-it was him.

It was him, it was him, it was him – so he was still here, he stayed, he stayed to protect Paris.

He did what she failed to do.

It was him.

But he was different than she remembered.

Chat Noir – in her memories, at least – was still a bit fuzzy, like a smile, or a smell from your past that you can't quite recall, but you still recognize it when it resurfaces.

She remembered Chat Noir to stand tall, cocky, confident, but this Chat Noir was different. Still tall, but more powerful – towering, almost, like Paris was his city – and it was his only job to keep it safe from harm. His hair was longer, too. He was powerful, and fierce – he was a lion.

She felt herself smile a little bit – he had grown up. He was strong, and he didn't need her anymore.

Her smile faltered.

She wondered if he had forgiven her for what she'd done.

His stance changed and he leapt off the building, strong and graceful, before melting in with the shadows, dark as the sky itself.

She felt a sudden longing to chase after him – of all the things she'd left, he might've been her biggest regret. He'd trusted her – with his life, his heart – and yet, she'd had no trouble discarding that trust and leaving for Italy without so much as a wave goodbye.

She shut the windows tightly and choked on a dry sob, suddenly torn apart by regret.

She was so selfish – she was Ladybug – Miraculous Ladybug, who now used her miraculous as no more than a decoration on her wall. She was a fraud. A failure. She'd failed her parents, her career, her friends, and she'd failed Chat Noir – who'd loyally stand by her side at anything.

Before leaving for Milan all those years ago – following the broken trail to a dream she'd never reach – she promised herself she'd never cry herself to sleep again.

She supposed that most promises were made to be broken, anyways.

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By the time she had woken up the next day – she was already stressed out. She'd managed to finish signing all of the papers, but since she was still technically working – she already had an assignment. Luckily, it was only about as stressful as a final exam that would ultimately decide whether you live or die. Excellent.

Paris fashion. She had to take photos of civilians. Sounds easy, right? Wrong.

Turns out, people in Paris aren't really keen on letting strange girls take their picture! And even when she tells them not to worry, and that it's for Marina Lenden of the Lenden Fashion Corporation, she only received scoffs and laughter.

Not to mention, taking pictures of people who were always on the move was really hard.

Luckily – she found her solace in the park. One she recognized from teenage years, watching, sitting, waiting for boys to walk by and fawn over them, she remembered every bit of it.

Well – maybe the plural of boys wasn't really all that appropriate – she was really waiting for was a certain boy.

Ah yes – Adrien Agreste. Despite herself, she had to laugh. How silly was it to be obsessed with a boy for so long you forget your own name?

Being much older now – 22 years, to be exact – allowed her the ability to laugh at herself, but she remembered loving him so clearly she could swear that she'd fall right back in love with him if she ever saw him again.

That would never happen, though. Adrien was smart, attractive, successful. He would be out of Paris, or, if he was in Paris, he wouldn't be caught dead in a simple square like this. He ought to be surrounded by opulence and beautiful women. That was just the way it went.

Marinette snapped a quick picture of a group of kids playing by the fountain, and blinked heavily, still tired from the night before, all those tears had really taken her out of it.

"Marinette," she heard Tikki whisper from her purse, "do you see that over there?"

Marinette's eyes shifted to where Tikki was looking, over by the path heading straight towards the main street. Standing there were two people, walking closer to the center of the park, hand-in-hand. She was about to smile and take a picture, but she hesitated at the last second.

"That looks…like…"

"Alya." Tikki spoke for her. "And Nino. Do you think…?"

Marinette had already taken off towards the unlikely couple, bubbled with excitement and feverish nervousness. Would they recognize her? She looked more mature, older, and her hair was longer, but still, they had to! They had to-

"Alya!" She said, the words dripping with excitement. Said woman turned to the sound of her name being called – and then, she completely froze.

Marinette continued to move towards them rapidly, what was she standing there for? Did she not recognize her?

"Alya," she repeated when she was close enough to see her facial expression, and the way the reddish tips of her hair glinted in the sun. "It's me! Mari-"

"Marinette." Alya finished for her, tucking a spare strand of hair behind her ear in a reserved manner. "You're in Paris…."

"Yeah! I'm-" Marinette blinked quickly. Why did Alya look so…weird?

"It's been a while." Nino concluded. Alya nodded in agreement.

"I didn't think you were going to come back." Alya admitted, a hint of bitterness escaping into her words. Marinette felt all of the color drain out of her face instantly.

How could she have been so naïve? Alya didn't want to talk to her – she probably never wanted to see her again! Marinette had left, with only a few words of goodbye, and never even called. So blinded by her own selfishness – Marinette had just walked into a room that no one wished her to be in.

"Alya." She spoke, voice as tight as her fake smile. "I've missed you."

"Have you?" Alya asked, voice and eyebrows raised in suspicion. "You sure didn't act like it. You know, a letter would've been nice."

Marinette bit her lip to keep it from quivering. She'd never felt so guilty in her entire life. Here she was – a full grown woman, feeling once again like a small child being reprimanded for stealing the last cookie.

"I'm…" she lost her own words for a second, overwhelmingly nervous. "…so sorry, Alya. I wanted to, I just…I didn't know who I was, or what I wanted anymore. I needed to escape."

Alya scoffed, sinking a knife deep into Marinette's heart. "Is that so? Well in that case, if you needed to escape so bad, why the hell did you come back?"

Marinette's senses shut down.

"My mother." She said sharply, eyes averted to the ground. "She's dying." She heard Alya's breath intake. At this point – she was having a lot of trouble swallowing that annoyingly familiar lump in her throat. What had she done?

"God, Marinette, I'm-" Alya swallowed, lowering her hand that had begun to raise, almost as if she wanted to pull Marinette into a tearful hug. "…I'm sorry. I really am."

Marinette said nothing. At this point, seeing all the broken ties she'd left in Paris, all she'd been feeling was regret, dead-set and heavy, ready to crush her in its wake at any given moment.

"We should go." Nino whispered, and Marinette felt her heart shatter.

"We'll see you around," Alya said in a less-than-convincing voice. Marinette, hugging her arms to her sides tightly, nodded without making eye contact. She listened to the sounds of their fading footsteps before she allowed the first tear to fall.

Her camera bounced on her hip as she made her way out of the park, forgetting about work or any of her responsibilities. Her only focus was getting some place where she could break down in peace. Away from prying eyes – away from Paris – away from her problems, all she did was run, run, run-

She caught herself off guard while she wasn't paying attention, accidentally smashing into a large man with a red cap. In fear of his wrath, she quickly stuttered an apology and moved on as fast as she could. She just had to get away, that's all she needed…

"Marinette, slow down!" Tikki whispered frantically as she crossed a busy street unwisely. Marinette was silent, wallowing in the mistakes of her past as she moved like a glacier – steady, forward, unyielding. She lost track of time and place, it was just move, move, move – doesn't mater how fast or how soon, just go-

"Marinette!" Tikki shrieked, oddly loud, considering she was supposed to stay hidden. "You have to stop – where are we?"

Marinette wiped a few stray tears from her eyes and looked up, squinting at the light of the already fading sun. She had no memory of this place, just blank buildings, blank street signs, blank faces.

Feeling suddenly panicked, she turned around, trying to remember which way she had come from. Left, right, straight?

Quick breath in, quick breath out. It's fine, she'd be fine, she just needed to remember-

Her head jerked up. When did it get so quiet?

The streets were close to empty – like at the sound of her distress, they had scattered. The sun was far down enough that only small rays of light graced the sidewalks, and it was a deep, saturated yellow in color. This wasn't the Paris she remembered.

She looked out at the people she did see – a family across the street, hurrying to their car, a man in a red cap, a couple of teenagers exiting a coffee shop, but other than that…she was alone.

She shut her eyes, absorbing the remaining sounds in the atmosphere and calmly breathing in and out, over and over again.

When she opened her eyes, there was a surprise waiting for them.

There, across the street and looming above the apartment building complex by the candle shop, was Chat Noir.

….And he was looking right at her.

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fuck me i quit how did i get here

so if I do end up continuing this, my plan is more fluff for marichat and adrinette, but more angst for ladynoir and ladrien, ya feel

also i do nothate marinette i just like making her suffer bye