Chapter Text
Wonder Bug knew Chat Noire wouldn't just let him go. It had been a few weeks since she'd scent marked him, and their relationship was much the same as it had always been.
(Nino had asked why Adrien seemed so glum as their teacher explained what regression to the mean was. Adrien pretended not to hear.)
One thing had changed. Wonder Bug couldn't decide whether or not he regretted saying to his partner: "I'm good at masks." On the one hand, she was paying a lot more attention to him in an effort to see past his façades.
On the other hand, she was paying a lot more attention to him in an effort to see past his façades.
No one in his life knew him nearly as well as Chat Noire did. He basked in her attention, and cherished every time she remembered something about him. In a way, he even loved that she could see right through him. He loved being known.
But it also scared him. She knew when he was hurting, and she expected him to share his burdens with her, because they were partners. But wasn't it easier to suffer alone?
So when she cornered him after an akuma attack, he knew what was coming.
"Bug," Chat Noire said, resting a clawed hand on his arm, "are you all right?"
He aimed for a carefree smile. "Sure, why wouldn't I be?"
Her expression told him she wasn't fooled. "You've seemed...off these past few weeks. You look exhausted, you're jumpy, and you're not making as many obnoxious puns as usual."
The last point made him smile - genuinely, this time. "Can't hide anything from you, can I?"
"No," she said, moving closer, "you can't. So?"
Bug sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just haven't been sleeping well, that's all."
Her bright blue eyes fixed on him with a determination that was free of judgment. That scared him, too. "That's all?"
"Mmhmm." He tried smiling again, but she just kept looking at him, as though willing him to elaborate. Eventually, the silence was too much. Letting out a dramatic sigh, he said, "Fine. I'm having nightmares. Are you happy now?"
"Thrilled," Chat deadpanned. Her expression shifted to something gentler. "Is it something we should talk about?"
Chat Noire had given up on asking him, do you want to talk about it?, because his answer was always, no thanks, I'll be fine!. Instead, she framed it like a team discussion, so he'd be more inclined to give her the details. He even knew she was doing it, but it worked every time.
He scuffed a foot against the concrete. "Yeah, it probably is."
"Find us a seat and I'll get the ice cream?" she asked. He nodded, and she squeezed his arm before vaulting away.
That was another habit Chat Noire had picked up: getting him a sugary treat whenever they had to talk about something difficult. He couldn't tell if it was her way of bribing him into being honest or her trying to make the experience a little less painful. Or both.
A few minutes later, Wonder Bug had a rooftop picked out and Chat Noire returned with two ice cream cones. She settled beside him, handed him one of the cones, and waited.
"You die sometimes," he started, and she almost dropped her ice cream. "I don't know how much you remember about certain akumas, but...I mean, you always get hurt. You usually get hurt badly. And sometimes you blink out of existence or die."
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her watching him, dessert forgotten. "And I know what you're going to say, that it's all part of the job, and that it doesn't really matter because the miraculous cure can always bring you back - because I can always bring you back-" his voice cracked.
Chat moved closer, taking his free hand in hers. He looked at their entwined fingers through tears. "I can remember every single one."
Her hand was soft, and her voice was softer. "Is that what your nightmares are about?"
Wonder Bug nodded. "Tikki always wakes me up, and she tries to help, but - it's bad."
She squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, Bug."
"Thanks." He squeezed her hand back, and then released it so they could eat their ice cream. They sat in silence for a few minutes.
"What if I could be there when you woke up?"
He looked at her. "What?"
She pursed her lips, thinking. "Do you think it would help? If you could see me when you woke up. See that I"m alive and okay."
Images of waking up to his partner's face flooded through his mind. Her braided hair would be messy, her eyes heavy with sleep, freckles just visible on her soft skin in the morning light...yes, please. "I guess," he said. "But it's not like we could have a sleepover or something."
"Why not?"
Bug raised his eyebrows. "Here I thought you were the one keeping us from revealing our identities to each other," he said, nudging her with his elbow.
"That's not what I'm saying," she said, giving him a Look. "Just - would anyone notice if you didn't come home tonight?"
He didn't even have to think about it. "Nope."
"Then meet me here at eleven." Chat shoved the last of her cone into her mouth, standing. "I have an idea."
Wonder Bug looked curious when he met her later that night, but she didn't explain right away. Instead, Chat led him to an abandoned building across town.
"Here we are," she said, leaping through the window. "Home, sweet home."
It wasn't much, but Chat Noire was proud of how she'd furnished the room in just a few hours. The only real furniture was a pull-out couch and a coffee table, both from a local charity shop. She'd also managed to find a colorful rug that wasn't too worn, and a handful of battery-powered lanterns, which were hung from the ceiling and bathed the room in an electric glow.
The expression on Wonder Bug's face as he took it all in was something like awe. "It's not fancy, or anything," Chat said, feeling self-conscious, "but I thought it would be good for us to have some kind of safe house. Just in case."
"A secret hideout," Bug said, grinning.
"A secret hideout," she agreed, relaxing. "And - you don't have to, obviously, if you'd rather not - it's a place where we can both sleep. You know, to see if having me nearby will help with your nightmares."
Before she knew what was happening, Wonder Bug pulled her into a hug. "Thank you," he said into her hair.
Chat leaned into his warmth, wrapping her arms around him. "What are partners for?"
The pull-out couch seemed brilliant when she bought it - less expensive and less trouble to move than two separate beds - but looking at it now, she was worried sharing a bed might be too intimate, even for them. But Wonder Bug didn't seem bothered by it at all; he just claimed a side, cracked a few jokes, and settled under the sheets.
A week ago, if anyone had told Chat Noire she'd be sharing a bed with her partner, she would have scoffed (and blushed. Just a little). But sliding under a set of charity shop sheets and resting her head on an old pillow next to him felt like the most natural thing in the world. The lanterns were all turned off, moonlight streamed in through the window, and soon both heroes dozed off.
Chat Noire woke to a strangled yell. Disoriented and a little scared, it took a moment for her to recognize her partner sitting up on his side of the bed.
"Bug?"
He didn't seem to hear her over the sound of his own labored breathing. It was dark enough that she could just make out his form, hunched over and shaking.
Chat sat up, reaching for him. "Bug, it's me," she whispered, setting a hand on his back. His muscles were drawn too tight, quivering under her fingers. "I'm here. I'm okay."
She shifted around to see his face. The light of the moon illuminated tear tracks on his cheeks, and his eyes were screwed shut. "Look at me," she whispered, cupping his face and brushing his tears away with her thumb. "I'm right here, look at me."
It took a little more coaxing, but Wonder Bug opened his eyes. Chat's heart lurched at the frightened look he gave her. "It was just a dream," she soothed. "I'm all right."
His hands - which had been gripping the sheets tight enough to rip them - moved to hold her face. She let him examine her, chest still heaving, body still trembling. After a moment, he looped and arm around her waist and pulled her against him.
Chat moved with him, rubbing slow circles on his back, murmuring reassurances into his shoulder. They stayed that way until his breathing slowed down.
His muscles seemed to relax all at once. Wonder Bug fell back on the mattress, pulling Chat with him. She squeaked in surprise, landing on top of him, his arms still tight around her.
"I'm sorry," Bug whispered, voice hoarse.
"There's nothing to be sorry for," Chat said into his pillow.
She readjusted so she was laying across his chest, one hand curled around his shoulder while the other carded through his hair. In turn, he kept one arm snug around her waist and scratched her head with the other.
It wasn't long before Chat Noire started purring; on instinct, she knew this purr wasn't out of happiness. It was for comfort.
Chat had no idea how long they stayed that way. Wonder Bug was warm and comfortable, and she could still smell traces of her own scent on him. She nuzzled into his neck, and he rested his cheek on her head. She could feel the rhythm of his breathing, hear the beating of his heart, and in that moment nothing else existed. Just the weight of his arm around her, the sleepy warmth of his body, and the sound of his steady breathing.
She was jolted out of sleep again by the sound of the battery-powered alarm clock. Delightfully warm and unwilling to get up, Chat grabbed her pillow and smacked the clock until it stopped beeping.
It was then that she realized the two heroes were still wrapped around each other. "I guess that's our cue," Chat said quietly as Bug stirred, turning away so he wouldn't see her flushed cheeks. "Our families will notice if we're gone much longer."
Wonder Bug's arms tightened around her. "Just another minute," he said, his voice low and raspy. "Please."
Chat found she really didn't have it in her to argue. So she just snuggled closer to her partner and closed her eyes.