Chapter Text
Marinette stood in the alley way, just out of reach of the shadows behind her.
Night had fallen over Paris, leaving her shivering in her pajamas from both the cold and the fear.
This probably wasn’t her best idea, confronting her childhood friend/stalker that she couldn’t even entirely prove were the same person, or prove that he even really existed, but she was already here. She might as well see it through.
Plus, it’s not like she was alone. The girls were there, hiding in various places in the alley, staying out of sight unless she needed their help.
She saw Rose’s cast iron skillet, Kagami brought her sword for crying out loud, she’d be fine.
There was only one of him and 7 of them, herself included.
None of this eased her nerves.
He had been her best friend, from the ages 4 to 8 he was the best friend she could ever ask for. He was a quiet kid, she remembered that vividly, but she did enough talking for the both of them.
He disappeared the day after her 8th birthday. It was like he never even existed, the house he lived in was abandoned overnight, any and all traces of his existence disappeared. Except for the pictures in her scrapbook, the only evidence of her friend she had left.
He came back, 3 years later. Or at least, Marinette thought it was him.
She never saw him, couldn’t catch sight of him on any cameras, in any of the traps she set. It was like trying to catch smoke with your hands.
It scared her, at first.
When she would see a shadow behind her or out of the corner of her eye, when she could feel his eyes on her but no one else noticed.
It was terrifying, not being able to prove someone was there but knowing they were. It made her feel like she was crazy.
She didn’t stop being scared until her 12th birthday, when he left her a present on her skylight, only noticed when she laid down to go to sleep.
It was a rose.
A singular, blood red rose with its thorns still attached.
She wasn’t afraid after that. She knew who he was. Knew he would never hurt her.
Nothing really changed besides her feelings on the matter.
She still never saw him, any odd instance or evidence would be explained away as coincidence until she stopped bringing them up.
And she did stop, by the time she turned 13 she stopped ever mentioning him.
She still received his roses, the dried flowers decorating her room. Cherishing the gifts from the boy who used to steal her flowers out of people’s gardens, leaves and everything still attached.
When she could feel his eyes on her, it was no longer a suffocating feeling but more of a safety blanket, carefully draped over her shoulders.
His presence was comforting.
But what if she was wrong?
What if it wasn’t him? What if her stalker wasn’t her Shadow? What if he didn’t even exist and she had been imagining him this whole time?
Marinette’s anxieties started to build up, causing her hands to shake as her eyes darted around the alley way.
She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to block out the cold and hold herself together all at once.
A familiar weight settled over her, he was here. She knew he was.
He was here and he was watching and he was real.
She took a deep breath, looking over to Alya’s hiding spot and locking eyes with her.
She had her phone out, recording the entire thing because of course she would be, it was Alya she was talking about.
Alya looked away from her screen, meeting Marinette’s eyes and nodding.
A reassurance. A confirmation.
Now or never.
Marinette took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax as she lowered her arms and straightened her spine.
It was fine.
He would never hurt her.
“Shadow, I need you.” Marinette said evenly, taking slow, measured breaths.
She waited, trying not to hold her breath but helpless to stop it from catching in her lungs.
She couldn’t hear anything, not the scuff of shoes or the breathing of anyone behind her.
There was absolutely nothing.
Marinette sighed, disappointed, but with a small part of her relieved.
She felt safe with him watching her, but meeting him face to face was another story entirely.
Marinette turned slightly, moving to signal her friends out of hiding when Alya gasped.
Marinette turned back to face her, wondering what startled her when a gloved hand covered her eyes, pulling her flush against a much taller figure.
All the air left Marinette’s body as she tried to turn, wanting to catch sight of her captor.
They didn’t budge, holding her firmly, but not hard enough to hurt her.
She gave up fighting, her hands flying up to the hand covering her eyes to try and remove it.
She tugged uselessly, trying to remove the hand when her grip slipped. Sliding off of the hand and pricking herself on something sharp.
Marinette froze, feeling the blood start to trickle down her hand from the cut on her finger.
The one holding her shifted, removing the arm that was pinning her to them but leaving her eyes covered.
Their hand moved, gently gripping her injured hand and lifting it towards themself.
They stay like that for a moment, her too scared to move, worried that her captor may be holding a knife.
They release her hand and it falls uselessly to her side, trembling ever so slightly.
Marinette hears rustling and jumps when she feels the hand covering her eyes shift.
She can just make out cracks of light between their fingers when a piece of fabric slides across her eyes, blinding her once again.
They tie the blindfold in a knot behind her head before she can feel them take a step back, giving her some space.
Marinette immediately whirls around, holding her hands up in front of her like it might prevent them from doing anything.
They had moved so quietly, she hadn’t even heard them come up behind her. Hadn’t noticed their pretense until they had grabbed her.
Marinette opens her mouth to speak but stops almost immediately when her hand is grabbed again.
The glove isn’t there this time warm, bare skin replacing the smooth leather from before.
For a half second, Marinette is almost convinced there is more than one person there but shakes the thought off.
One of the girls would have alerted her somehow.
They only agreed to stay hidden until she gave the signal if there was only one person. All bets were off if it was more than one person.
Soft, cold fabric brushes against her hand followed by a sharp stinging sensation. Marinette wasn’t expecting it, hissing in pain and trying to jerk her hand away.
They hold fast, refusing to release her from their grip though they do stop touching her with the cloth.
They wait a moment before continuing, rubbing the stinging cloth on her cut again. Marinette blinks, trying to figure out if they are really doing what she thinks they are doing.
She stops fighting, holding still and trying to calm her breathing.
They adjust their grip on her hand, applying what she assumes to be a bandage to the cut.
Marinette’s eyes start to sting, on the verge of crying as he cleans her cut.
It’s him. ItshimItshimItshim.
It has to be him.
He lifts her hand slightly and Marinette feels warmth on the backs of her knuckles.
The tears start falling freely, wetting the blindfold.
It’s him. It’s really him. She knows its him because she taught him that. She taught him how to kiss pain away when they were kids.
It’s really him.
Marinette starts sobbing, grabbing onto his hand and using it to pull herself to him.
She wraps her arms around him, sobbing into his chest as his arms awkwardly come up around her.
He was never very good at giving hugs. Marinette thinks with a wet laugh, ignoring everything around her except for him.
“I missed you, Shadow.” She whispers, struggling to speak around the tears clogging her throat.
He squeezes her a bit tighter and she can feel him ducking his head down, putting his face in her hair as they cling to each other.
Marinette had been too scared to properly notice the cold before, but now, safe and warm in her Shadow’s arms? Its freezing outside.
Marinette shivers, pushing herself closer to him as a breeze blows through the alley, rustling her hair.
Shadow freezes, starting to pull away as Marinette clings to him stubbornly.
He doesn’t move far, doesn’t even leave the cage of her arms as he does something above her head.
Soon, something warm and heavy is being wrapped around her shoulders. He does the clasp at her neck for her, locking it in place as he pulls the hood up over her head.
Its too long to be a jacket, and it doesn’t feel like a trench coat. Her best guess is some kind of cloak or cape.
Marinette almost laughs as the absurdity, certain that Adrien would make some kind of pun about him being cloaked in shadows later. Maybe that’s why I could never find him. She thought amusedly.
Neither of them moved for a while after that, opting to hold each other for the first time in 10 long years. His hand moved up and down her back slowly, like he was subconsciously warming and comforting her.
A scuff comes from her left, a spot she recognizes to be Alix’s hiding place.
He doesn’t let on that he notices, barely flinching from the sudden noise as he pulls back, his hands on her shoulders.
Marinette, doesn’t let him get far. Trailing one hand up his arm and over his shoulder, she doesn’t stop until she reaches his face, gently cupping his cheek in her palm.
She doesn’t let herself map out his face like she so desperately wants to, she’s here on a mission.
“I need your help, Shadow.” She says stroking her thumb across his cheek.
His hand comes up, gently gripping her wrist as he leans his face into her palm.
“What do you need?” He askes in a low tone.